Mandisa Buthelezi for Gibela by FEDE Arthouse
Mandisa Buthelezi, born in 1991 in KwaZulu-Natal, South Africa, is a Photographer and Cultural Producer from Umlazi, Durban. She began as a self-taught photographer, documenting rural and peri-urban life in KwaZulu-Natal. Her skills were refined at the Durban Centre for Photography, under the mentorship of renowned photographer Peter McKenzie.
Academically accomplished, Buthelezi holds a Postgraduate Diploma in Business Administration (2021) and is pursuing a Master’s in Cultural Policy and Management (2023–) at the University of Witwatersrand. She also earned an Advanced Project Management Certificate (2018) from the University of Cape Town and a National Diploma in Construction Management and Quantity Surveying (2011) from Durban University of Technology.
Her photography captures the essence of African culture, exploring themes of identity, spirituality, and tradition. By documenting and cataloguing cultural narratives, her work bridges the past and present, using both colour and black-and-white imagery to spark dialogue on cultural preservation and progression.
Your work focuses on themes of identity, spirituality, and tradition. Why do you feel connected to this and what is your intention with the work?
The biggest thing about my work is that it’s rooted in self-discovery and understanding my relationship with the environment and the world. People use different mediums to explore themselves some write, others create music or sing. For me, photography became the tool to facilitate a conversation between myself and the world.
I grew up in an urban environment, but my background is in the construction industry. Before entering the creative field, I worked in construction. It’s completely different from what I’m doing now, but it’s an interesting connection. In construction, most of the workers on the ground came from rural areas, leaving their homes to work in the city. Despite the urban setting, their concept of home remained very strong.
This sense of home was tied to elements like their cultural identity, family values, and traditions such as cattle rearing (‘imbuyo’). Those elements never left them, even when they were far from their rural roots. What fascinated me most was that these individuals carried this rich cultural life with them, even in the midst of urban living. It was different from what I experienced growing up. Many people in the city would go back to their rural homesteads during holidays, but I never had that connection.
My cultural exposure came through the stories I heard from these workers on-site. Their experiences and cultural nuances intrigued me and pulled me into exploring rural areas and traditions through my photography. Initially, it was just a hobby. I bought a camera and started photographing anything that caught my eye cattle, women grazing the land, or scenes of everyday life. These images spoke to a way of living that appeared so simple yet so rich and fulfilling compared to urban life.
As I delved deeper into my craft, photography became a way for me to understand myself culturally and spiritually. It allowed me to ask questions about who I am and what I value most. This process of self-discovery also intersects with spirituality, as it helps me locate myself in the world and understand my beliefs. My goal is for my work to inspire others to reflect on their own identities, whether culturally, spiritually, or politically. I hope it nudges people toward clarity about who they are and where they fit into the world.
How has your experience documenting rural and peri-urban life in KwaZulu-Natal influenced your approach to capturing cultural narratives?
I think I’ve covered it, but to expand further, my approach has always been about understanding the richness of rural life and connecting that back to broader themes of identity and spirituality. My photography doesn’t just document life as it is; it seeks to uncover the deeper cultural and spiritual layers that define who we are as individuals and as a society.
For example, working in the construction industry gave me an appreciation for the cultural resilience of people from rural areas. Even in challenging urban environments, they maintain a strong sense of identity and cultural pride. This has deeply influenced how I approach capturing cultural narratives in my photography.
Given the project’s setting in Cape Town, often described as “little Europe,” how do you think location influences the interpretation of your work?
Cape Town is a very complex space. It’s rich in history but also carries many layers of colonial influence that make it feel detached from the rest of South Africa. The city’s urban planning, economics, and even its cultural attitudes contribute to this sense of detachment. Presenting work in Cape Town, therefore, becomes a deliberate act of confrontation.
The work I’ll be exhibiting focuses on *amanazaretha* (members of the Nazareth Baptist Church), which is one of the largest African-based churches in South Africa. The church’s founder, Prophet Isaiah Shembe, created a faith that fused elements of Christianity with Zulu culture. This fusion is a direct challenge to colonial ideologies, as it reclaims and reframes borrowed narratives to honour African identity and spirituality.
By exhibiting this work in Cape Town, I’m placing it in a space that represents the beginning of colonial influence in South Africa. It’s almost like bringing the conversation back to where it started. The audience in Cape Town may find the work confrontational because it challenges deeply ingrained colonial structures and attitudes. At the same time, I hope it opens up conversations about cultural identity and the ways in which we relate to one another as South Africans.
The Gibela project emphasises the interplay between tradition and modernity. How does your work reflect or challenge this dialogue?
The older I grow in my craft, the more I value the idea of reflection. When someone looks at my work, I don’t want them to just admire the aesthetic. I want them to unpack what’s inside the frame. Culture, for me, is deeply tied to history. It’s impossible to explore culture without examining the past.
My work exists in a modern, contemporary space, but it’s deeply rooted in historical and cultural narratives. I often photograph in black and white because it creates a timeless quality. You’re left wondering: Is this from the 1800s, or is it contemporary? This blending of past and present is intentional because I want to highlight how history continues to shape who we are today.
Colonial systems dismantled so much of our cultural structures, like the family unit in rural homesteads. My work tries to nudge people to ask: Who were we before these systems disrupted us? How do we return to a sense of self, honouring our history while navigating the present?
Gibela seeks to subvert traditional gallery spaces. Why do you feel it is important to present your work within a reimagined exhibition framework?
exhibited in three areas, and I specifically exhibited in the community where the original work was created. This was important for accessibility and ethics. Too often, we extract from communities without giving back. It’s a capitalist approach that benefits the artist while the subjects remain unacknowledged.
Taking work back to the communities where it originates allows for meaningful engagement. It also breaks down barriers to art. Galleries in urban centres can be intimidating or inaccessible for many people. By reimagining exhibition spaces whether it’s a community hall, a traditional hut, or even a riverside we create environments where people feel comfortable engaging with the work.
In your opinion, how do you see photography interacting with these other forms of cultural production?
I absolutely believe in collaboration. Photography doesn’t have to exist in isolation. It can be complemented by other mediums, like sound, text, or even performance. For instance, there’s a Durban-based photographer, Unive, who recently combined her work with soundscapes. It added another layer of depth without overshadowing the images.
Collaboration opens up the work to new audiences and interpretations. It also allows for cross-disciplinary conversations. Ultimately, it enriches the work and creates a more dynamic cultural production. If done thoughtfully, it adds immense value.
