Q&A: Pinartbutta – Featured Designer of the month
When I read the word Pinartbutta for the first time I had one of those moments of nothing but fresh air passing through my brain, but after a second glace it appeared to me that it was my favorite midnight snack, brown, smooth and creamy- peanut butter! Or maybe not? Getting into the mind of the man behind the name will ensure that you keep your thinking cap on at all times because you never know what might be behind a simple illustration… Click here to see Represent’s designer of the month’s portfolio. Mzwandile Buthelezi is a designer slash illustrator slash street artist slash graffiti writer slash whatever you’d like to call a guy that spends mad hours with brushes, paint, ink, computers, toys…whatever people with these titles like to keep in their company. (He wrote that) He actually prefers to be called an artist because he believes that that’s what he really is. Represent commissioned Mzwandile to create the first 007 wallpaper (the fab picture you see as the backdrop of the site) and whilst he was busy with that, share with us some of the things that make a designer what he is. RR: Where did you grow up? MB: I grew up in Soweto, Johannesburg and that’s where I went to school as well. RR: What is pinartbutta? MB: Well, “butter” is actually a hip- hop term for something that looks good or when you all good, you’d say “I’m all butter”, I like making pretty pictures that make people feel good… RR: What is pinartbutta all about? MB: I developed a project back in college called pinartbutta where I used to make photocopies of my artwork with positive messages or just stupid stuff to make people’s days lighter and I’d pin them up on boards around college (they never stayed up for long though, I’d turn a corner and they’d be gone). I’m not sure how I got to call it pinartbutta… I guess I liked the sound of the name. RR: Do you like peanut butter? MB: Yes please, make the peanut butter thick with jam… RR: Why did you get into design? MB: I was a graffiti artist before I got into design; I still do graffiti; that’s where I developed my interest in typography. I studied Fine Arts for a while but it was boring and also a bit lame so when I found out about an exciting world where I could play with the alphabet and still draw…it sounded cool to me so I quit Fine Arts and enrolled for a course in Design. I also needed to take my art a step ahead…moving into...
Busy, buzzing Accra is the place to party!
Ghana is not always on the top of the list of African counties to visit, but more often these days I’m hearing really cool stuff about it. Lerato grooved her way into Accra (the capital city of Ghana) this past holiday and ladies the results on the status of the men in Ghana have been confirmed… so extra, extra, read all about it and eat your hearts out! Before visiting Accra, the thing I wanted to discover the most about the country was what made Rita Marley, the widow of reggae legend Bob Marley, and her family move to Ghana when she could have picked Jamaica or the US where she owns properties? But after spending only four days in Accra, I wonder how anyone could have a piece of the city and want to leave it behind. Now I see that my friends were spot-on. When they heard I was heading for the Ghanaian capital they all responded with a resounding, “Yoho! The men there are hot!” I wish they had not been reserved with the truth. Like most West African men, Ghanaian men are breathtakingly handsome and polite. Life’s good in Accra. By day, the city is a fast-paced haven for entrepreneurs. Even when driving far out of the city to the villages, there are few places where shops and stalls have not been set up. And, be warned, sellers will get the last dollar out of your pocket. My experience of the capital of Kofi Annan’s motherland by night was one of a city that never sleeps. I was in Accra to attend the Catwalk the World fashion show, a fundraising event organised by the United Nations World Food Programme. With the formalities of the trip over on my first night, I let loose, partying and shopping up a storm. My first stop on the city’s party scene was Boomerang nightclub. The parking lot accommodated all sorts of flashy cars. Their owners, no doubt, the sort of people who bling all the way to the bank. Hennessy cognac, Moët & Chandon champagne and Johnnie Walker whisky adorned the bar. And just in case you thought Boomerang was just like any other nightclub, the VIP lounge had a pole in the middle of the dance floor and everyone was welcome to bring it on, which one does in a city of friendly people. For the less racy explorer, which I am by day, Accra’s markets are worth visiting. Every corner is filled with street hawkers and shops. The people are smooth talking and adept at bargaining. Everyone sells something they convince you is a necessity – Lucky...
“New York, New York!”
I fell for New York from all the movies that I’ve seen, so I was soooooo jealous when Thapelo said he was going for the December break. I mean I’m still waiting for my I Love N.Y t-shirt, but hey it’s cool, no hard feelings ges! Thanks for Representing! See his NY photo’s here on our Flickr community. After saying goodbye to the family I was off to New York for the first time ever, all on my own! As daunting as it sounded I was excited and anticipating a great trip, so dollars in hand I began my journey to The Big Apple. First stop was a little town called Yonkers, where I rested after my thirteen hour flight- I stayed in a place called Tuckahoe Motel, where I had a view of yellow busses lined up outside my window and strange houses that looked like those doll houses for little girls. Big City Life! After getting rested I was ready to brave the big city- New York, finally! A trip to the heart of the city Manhattan, really felt like a scene from a movie, one minute I was walking down an ordinary looking street and the next I was slap bang in the middle of Times Square filled with billboards and lights and what seemed like millions and millions of people; I thought Johannesburg was fast – paced, but this was something else- a huge concrete jungle with people walking briskly with their ears plugged out of the rest of the world by iPods and other gadgets. When I packed a couple of sweaters thinking they would be sufficient for the cold New York weather I was clearly delirious because it was freezing cold, so one of my first purchases was one of those huge warm winter jackets. Next I did the tourist thing and got onto one of those double deck sightseeing buses which was conducted by an old woman who wore big glasses and was so cheerful she made it seem like a summer day in Durban- okay, but that still didn’t help because I was still freezing my ass off. What did help though, was the nips that me and a guy who was sitting next to me managed to get our hands on, one Hennessy, for me and a Jim Bean for him, let’s just say I felt…warmer! (Funny thing though, is how Hennessy is made to be such a big deal, but it comes in nip bottles!) Next was Harlem, the ghetto! We drove into Malcolm X Boulevard which has cultural and historical sites along the length of the Boulevard. I suddenly...
My Jo’burg Stay Away
When I heard that a group of guys I know actually spent the whole of the festive holiday playing Monopoly, I was really intrigued… I mean, yeah you’re home and have nothing to do, mara Molopoly? Anyway, turns out that it’s the new concrete jungle sport, these guys take their boards everywhere… Wierd, but true! Happy New Year! I sincerely hope that you’re happy to be in the New Year because ready or not you’re in it, whether you’re happy or not or you believe it or not. As for 2006 and all the memories good or bad “can we have amafluit bafwethu?” I hope that you’ve enjoyed yourselves and at least got to enjoy not going to work or to school for that matter and I hope you packed the stomach with all the food and drink that was on offer, which has become synonymous with the festive season. At least that’s what consoled the rest of us who stayed in Jo’burg on chill mode. With all the preparations that I’d made for the December holidays with my boys, my staying in Jo’burg over December was not the plan and it sort of reminded me of when I was still at school. The holidays begin and you have to look forward to staying at home. Broke, and in the dusty streets of Soweto, you knew that you were in for some major boredom, dust, alcoholics and watching chicks that spend their holidays in the front seat of some playas car. So come summer 2006, I’m older, more resourceful, more cash and single with an Audi A3 with an empty front seat (know what I mean), one kinda had the feeling that I had to live up to some playalistic expectations that have been made constitution by MTV HIP POP urban culture. After our Cape Town plans fell through due to spending R12 000 on getting the car ready, paying debts and sundries, it just became practical to spend the rest of the R3000 in Jo’burg instead of going to Cape Town to become a bergie in the name of sticking to plan A. Fair enough December started with a bang, last minute jobs that’ll pay in February, free parties, beautiful weather with afternoon rain. It’s amazing how people behave when December rolls around. It’s like we all behave like school kids who’ve finished their exams and they’re just waiting to GO. And that’s just what happened. People went. It was so evident. It’s actually scary. Jo’burg doesn’t look normal empty. Imagine driving on the M1 South from Woodmead to the CBD at 100km/h at 16H55 and getting there in ten...
Give me my holiday back!
Last year before we all went on a break I bumped into Zodwa in Sandton and when she said she was going to the South Coast on an affordable backpackers holiday, I thought she was going to have the time of her life… endless days of sun soaking and bonding with her friends, little did we both know that it would turn out to be a disaster of note, (I must say the story is quite funny, sorry Zo’)… Click here for our South Coast holiday snaps! I’m back at work and not very happy about it! Not because I hate my job but because I was robbed of my summer holiday! My first mistake was booking me and five friends into X backpackers in Port St Johns (unaffectionately known as PSJ). Store this piece of advice in your memory banks people: Don’t visit PSJ over the festive season. My second mistake was choosing to stay when they told me they had no record of my booking. Funny that. We had paid a hefty deposit! They definitely had record of that. After I threw my toys they put us up in a dingy granny (literally) flat situated about a kilometer from where we were originally ‘booked’ into. The place smelled and looked like it hadn’t been cleaned for months. And there were collage photos of someone’s family up on the bathroom and toilet walls. There were enlarged versions of the same photos pasted on the grimy kitchen floor. Tacky! It rained every time we had the vaguest inclination to take part in some adventure sports. And when it didn’t rain, we couldn’t get hold of anyone who was running the kayaking or the horse riding. *sigh*. On a more positive note – we did get to squeeze in two beach sessions when the weather held out. Some of PSJ is truly beautiful and serene (3rd beach), while other beaches (2nd beach) feels you’re on the Durban beachfront. There was not a fresh prawn to be had in the entire town either which was the most depressing part. You always hope that if you find yourself in a small shitty coastal town (like Ramsgate in Natal) at least you’ll be able to get some big cheap prawns! Well not in PSJ! Nevertheless one of my friends was determined to have prawns, so we had them at the last place where you’d expect to find anything fresh – at a local pub on the main road which shall remain nameless. Here we tucked in and tried to make the most of a rather dismal affair. I mean, how much worse could it get?...
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