I dropped down to Michaelis the other day and immediately found myself doing what all Michaelis students tend to do: lounging around drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes. Godamn doesn't anyone work in Cape Town! After an hour or so I pulled myself up off my ass, feeling vaguely like I had a lecture to go to or something, smoked a cigarette again, sat down, drank more coffee, and finally remembered I was here to see Angela Buckland's show at the Michaelis Gallery, Zip Zip My Brain Harts. It was quite a difficult show, torn between a feeling of obligation and distaste... kinda like the ugly bergie that wants to hug you after you give him your left over KFC. Don't really like the way it looks but it's someone who's hurt and miserable and disadvantaged. I struggled essentially to engage with the show, which was about Nikki, Buckland's disabled child, not because of it's subject matter, but because of it's use of imagery. I found the narrative obscured and illegible. It touched on edges of documentary, but without committing to that at all, not going down the to drooling gory stuff. Which is fine, because that would have been a bit of a spectacle, and not giving the subject the dignity it deserves. It also didn't quite make it as a more symbolic experience. I found the language difficult to interpret, and the images not quite powerful enough. I walked out feeling a little bit lost, looking for a bit more meat. Maybe though if I was a mother...