Writing the intro to this interview was a little difficult for me because of multiple reasons. The first is: do I speak about the incredibly amazing work that Robyn is doing for young emerging creatives through Touch South Africa and have that be the encore of this piece, or maybe speak about the film? And why I truly believe that the body of work she offers through Seasons of Longing really feels like an encapsulation of love, perfect composition, and beautiful storytelling and she somehow made it feel like all those three aspects are in conversation with each other. Well, I guess there we have it. I managed to speak about both without even realising it.
As I reach the end of this paragraph, which was supposed to be about simply introducing Robyn, all I can say is: my favourite thing about her as a director and overall human being, even though I have limited context of her seems to be that she leads with emotion and care: for things, for projects, for people, and for finding solutions to things she cannot accept to sit as is. I really believe that that’s how we save ourselves and each other, by simply refusing to accept things as they are. I hope you enjoy our conversation.
How did your work at M&C Saatchi Abel Africa influence your approach to diversity and inclusion within the creative industry?
It feels like a lifetime ago. I guess at that time, I was on my own journey with mental health, particularly when I was at Ogilvy, before moving to M&C. I really struggled with how little importance the creative industry placed on mental health and on supporting people’s well-being in general. When I got to M&C, I wanted to prioritize that, along with my creative partner at the time. We both felt strongly that our leaders needed to acknowledge the importance of mental health as much as we did. So, we started a mental health community at M&C. Together, we encouraged our leaders to share their own mental health experiences and successfully secured a budget for initiatives like lunchtime meditations and breathing workshops.
It was all about sparking conversations around mental health, making it a more comfortable and integrated part of the workspace. We wanted people to feel supported and encouraged to reflect on their own mental health.
Another key aspect we noticed was the lack of language around mental health, especially in non-English-speaking communities in South Africa. English has a relatively advanced vocabulary for discussing these issues, but we felt that wasn’t the case for many other languages. So, we also began exploring ways to address that gap.
Can you share your experience leading the Creative Team at Touch South Africa and its mission to empower young African talent?
Yeah, that’s my baby. I’m still deeply involved with it, still very hands-on. We do a lot of work with The Loeries, and it allows us to focus on soft skills, things we never really learned but realized are crucial for people like us who struggle with them in the industry. It’s about skills like having difficult conversations, asking for a raise, selling yourself as a creative, turning fashion into profit, and developing your leadership abilities. These are things my partner, Jabalani, and I struggled with ourselves. But we were fortunate to have enough connections to bring industry leaders together with people like us. It’s all about bridging the gap between those who’ve already been successful and those of us who are just starting out, especially since soft skills like “talking the shop” aren’t something you learn at university. “Universities teach practical skills, sure, but they don’t prepare you for navigating these spaces or developing the softer, interpersonal skills that are essential for success.”
That’s the gap we wanted to address, and it’s been such a rewarding journey. It’s also a lot of work, it takes up so much of our time, energy, and even money but the payoff is incredible. Seeing people who’ve come through the Touch programs pop up in a Zoom meeting or booking a call with us is surreal. Three years later, they might be juniors at places like TBWA, and it’s amazing to witness their progress. Watching young people grow and move forward in their careers has been the greatest gift of all.
How has sitting on The Loeries Youth Committee shaped your perspective on emerging creative talent across Africa and the Middle East?
I think our industry is fascinating because it’s largely run by very senior people, yet the demand for relevance and authentic youth voices has become essential to everything being created. It’s not just about “talking the talk” but genuinely being part of the culture, connecting with people, and staying true to who we are.
That can be incredibly challenging in an environment that doesn’t always make space for you to bring your full identity into the room, whether you’re a woman, queer, or a person of color. You often find yourself working harder, constantly adapting, and asking, “Is this a safe space for me to bring my whole self?” Or do I need to “cosplay” in some way just to have my voice heard?
What’s been so inspiring about The Loeries Youth Committee and being connected to a wide range of creatives, especially through Touch South Africa, is seeing how we’ve expanded our reach. Moving online as a platform allowed us to connect with creatives across the continent, not just locally.
It’s been incredible to see people bring their full selves, their whole identities, creative and personal, into these spaces and own them unapologetically. Even more powerful is seeing those identities not just accepted but celebrated.
In your transition from commercial projects to personal film direction, what has been the most significant learning experience in bringing Seasons of Longing to life?
Yeah, that’s a crazy question but a good one. Now that I’ve gone through it and it’s done, it’s interesting to step back and reflect. At the time, I was really just following my intuition. I wasn’t entirely sure what I was doing, but I leaned on the people around me those who were already thriving in their work and trusted that, somehow, it would all make sense. I had faith in the process, in my intuition, and maybe even the gods.
When I came out as queer while still working in agency life, it was tough. I wasn’t sure who I was, what I was doing, or how to bring my full self into my work. Leaving agency life felt like a turning point, and I knew I needed to direct something, to make something. It wasn’t about winning awards or getting into festivals. I didn’t want to have conversations about accolades or prestige. The only prerequisite I set for myself when making Seasons of Longing was this: Will I want to be a director at the end of this?
Of course, there were broader goals for the archive and the work itself, but personally, all I wanted was to figure out if this was the path for me and what that transition would look like. During the process, there were a lot of emotional moments. I cried a lot while shooting. On day two, there was this particular moment where we were waiting for something to be set up. My DoP, Jason, suggested we just start filming what we had in the moment. Standing there, we hugged each other, and what we captured became such a pivotal part of the film.
When I saw that footage on screen, I broke down. I started bawling. It felt like this massive release, this realization that the idea in my head had come alive in its purest form. There was no outside input, just us being fully present and loving what we were creating together. It was the most honest, unfiltered creative expression I had ever experienced.
That was the biggest transition for me: being completely myself in my creativity, fully embracing my identity as a queer person, and witnessing my pure creative vision come alive. It was a level of authenticity I hadn’t reached before, and it changed everything for me.
Seasons of Longing explores emotional depth, what inspired the narrative, and how did you approach the storytelling in this film?
Yeah, I think it has a huge influence. There’s a lot of thought and narrative-building that comes into play, especially in advertising, where you often have just 60 seconds or even 20 or 30 seconds to tell a story. That narrative becomes incredibly important. What does it look like? How does it flow?
Many skills from art direction are highly transferable to directing. For example, there’s a deep consideration of framing, composition, aesthetics, and the finer details. The level of thought and precision that art directors put into their work translates seamlessly into direction.
What is a quote you live by?
It’s the idea that “the river is everywhere,” symbolizing constant change and impermanence. The quote suggests that pushing against the flow of change only leads to suffering, but by letting the river flow, we can find peace and fulfilment.
