Cape Town-based artist Geena Wilkinson on her sweet spot creating works of art that disarms the viewer while challenging societal norms.
Take us through your background and where your love for art began.
I began experimenting with ceramics in my early childhood, attending pottery classes before even starting primary school. Under the guidance of a teacher who always encouraged us to push boundaries, I crafted various objects during that time, including a sausage dog made from a roll of clay, an elephant designed solely to hold a single pencil, and a self-portrait with hair made from a garlic press.
Those classes were a space where not only anything was possible, but also plausible. After completing school, I pursued Fine Art at the University of Cape Town’s Michaelis School of Fine Art, focusing on painting. However, for my graduate exhibition, I opted to create a room filled with sculptures of spilled eggs the size of dinner plates. Returning to UCT a couple of years later, I pursued an additional Honours degree, this time in Curatorship, as my work had evolved into a collection of things.
During that year, I wrote a thesis on a Marie biscuit, exploring how objects can unlock our memories. Art has consistently been a place of solitude and reflection for me, providing my mind with a space to be quiet and simultaneously run wild. The use of resin opened up possibilities for translucent sculptures, initiating my journey into colour and form, starting with the Cherry Lips from Sweets from Heaven.
What aspects or paradigms are integral to the work you create?
My work is rooted in the practices of other artists, including Felix Gonzalez-Torres, Sarah Lucas, and Damien Hirst, among others. Replicating sweets initially served as a way to candy-coat topics that are challenging to engage with. Crafting biscuits as ornaments, I addressed the violent rape and murder of a young girl in the Western Cape, a case that made headlines a few years ago.
I made ten finger biscuits out of porcelain to symbolise her broken body. Her story haunted me as a woman in South Africa, living in the shadow of the gender- based violence pandemic.
Sugar-coating content diminishes hesitations to engage with heavier material. Similar to how a lollipop in a doctor’s office acts as a placebo for pain, distracting us from the reality of discomfort, the idea of sugar-coating these topics through this medium has motivated me to create more works of art.
Your recent exhibition in London was remarkable. Can you talk us through how this came about?
In October 2023, my work was exhibited at the Battersea Affordable Art Fair UK in London with Aity Gallery from South Africa. They are one of the galleries I am currently working with, and I look forward to showcasing work with them at some of the upcoming art fairs.
London was an incredible city to visit – it was my fi rst time there, and the only thing I ran out of was time. I missed my fair share of tubes and got lost in many boroughs, but the exhibitions I did manage to attend were incredible – Marina Abramovic at the Royal Academy, Sarah Lucas at the Tate Britain, Gabrielle Chanel’s Fashion Manifesto at the V&A Museum.
I even managed to see the last day of Frieze Masters and Frieze London, an art fair that only pops up once a year.
What advice would you give a young emerging diasporic artist trying to get their work recognised?
Establishing a strong digital presence is crucial; make it easy for people to fi nd you by creating a website, an Instagram page, or any preferred format with plenty of beautiful imagery. Document your work and write everything down. Don't hesitate to showcase your work, regardless of where you are in the process.
People enjoy seeing progress. If you wait until you feel ready, that feeling might never come. The best advice comes from the movie Finding Nemo. Dory's repeated words, 'Just keep swimming,' resonate – don't stand still.
Another piece of advice close to my heart is from the poet Thom Gunn: 'You're always closer by not standing still.' Before going anywhere, figure out where you want to go, and then determine how you're going to get there – many different roads lead to the same place.
