The Falling Queen: Kgosigadi, the Village

Kgosigadi, the Village - an artwork by Gift Kgosierileng, can be defined as a reflection of an untold African story.

I was somewhat captured by a statement I overheard from a Burner. This was just a week after finding out that the man I thought was my father… wasn’t. In the midst of that turmoil, my morning runs through the vast, open, arid fields kept me sane.

Born in Upington, in the Northern Cape, I’ve always been fascinated by the relationship between wind and soil. The movement of fabric. Women squinting their eyes to keep the sand out, subconsciously gripping the hems of their skirts. I remember being fascinated by that!! By them. By the Karoo and its quiet relationship with the seasons. Seldom green, even then, it’s a grey-like green at its peak fading slowly as plants dry. Someone becoming one with the soil. The shy beiges, browns, and tans. That’s the beautiful Karoo. Amazing in isolation.

That has always described the expression of my own work: Underrated. Seldom glorified but always remembered. That’s the Karoo. It’s a feeling, not a look.

When I was awarded this opportunity to echo my imagination, I remember the excitement because I had imagined this. Long bus rides as a 12-year-old. I would imagine empty spaces filled with people. Because of boredom. The stillness of long hours in one position, as a child diagnosed with ADHD. I could only dance in my imagination. And now, 30 years later. I find myself realizing that dream.

Depicting the relationship between nature and textile was important. Throughout the process, I kept thinking about finding out that my biological father wasn’t mine, and what it meant to let go of everything I’d built my expression on: the preservation of Khoisan culture.

The process, with all of its challenges, felt like autumn to me. Dry. Beige. A silent Tuesday; a day often seen as insignificant. That’s what hession (burlap) is like. Never regarded as functional, but often used for the most important tasks: shelter, protection, and clothing. It was important to highlight its organic relationship with nature and the wind. That’s why we introduced movement.

And then, it fell...

I remember the deepest part of me felt validated when it fell. I knew I was right about something. I knew I was right about the conflicts during the planning phase. Something in me was affirmed. Trust the voices that move through you.

At times I would take walks and see burners look up at the piece & someone surrendering to their imagination, I guess. While I was wondering what was becoming of me. I had bared it all. Everything that existed as my truth is in this piece. It’s a reminder to our people of who we are. We come from nature. We are one with the soil. The abundance of energy, the Sun always carries us through.

As a first-time Burner. As an artist. As a 7-year-old boy who once imagined this... this process has been healing. It has carried me through, into my newly found family. I hope it means as much to others as it has to me.

For it never dies: Kgosigadi, the fallen queen who became one with nature.