Painting from the heart ... that’s 85-year-old Esther Mahlangu’s secret to success

The world-renowned artist who recently celebrated her birthday is as passionate and productive as ever

Renowned African artist Esther Mahlangu was recently violently attacked in her home by a man she believes is known to her.
Renowned African artist Esther Mahlangu was recently violently attacked in her home by a man she believes is known to her. (Sebabatso Mosamo/Sunday Times)

Dr Esther Mahlangu embodies the Zulu proverb, Isinamuva liyabukwa, which loosely translates into, “the late bloomer is the one you look out for”.  

It’s a Tuesday afternoon, the eve of Mahlangu’s 85th birthday. The rain pounds relentlessly onto the street in Ga-Mapogo village in Siyabuswa, Mpumalanga, where two goats run past a wall painted in bright colours; the wall to Mahlangu's homestead.

We have to wait while she puts on her famous Ndebele outfit for the photo shoot. She finally ascends from the main house, draped in a brightly beaded blanket, pure leather apron and Isigolwani (beaded hoops worn on feet and neck).

At first glance, she appears frail and tired. She greets me with a smile, her withered hands adjusting her face mask so she can speak more easily. “I hate that it’s raining,” she sighs. “This will ruin my birthday.”

Is she planning to retire after her birthday? The sigh turns into a laugh. “I don’t know what the future holds for me, but I don’t plan to stop. Unless I am brittle and cannot walk or do anything.”

“People around me, including my family, never ask me to stop working, they love my work. When I paint, I become fully happy and satisfied with myself. I can’t pinpoint where I get the ideas. It's all spontaneous and comes from my heart,” said Mahlangu.  

She has spent more than seven decades practising her art form, travelling across the world to museums, galleries, curators, art fairs, celebrities and global brands. 

To celebrate her birthday, she launched Esther Mahlangu 85, an online solo exhibition curated by Ruzy Rusike. Due to Covid-19 restrictions, her birthday celebration was to be kept to a minimum — some close family members and a cake. 

This exhibition, she says, is possibly the largest that she has ever had. It involves a series of sculptures to be unveiled at Melrose Gallery in Johannesburg, as well as a series of bags she worked on with Carol Bouwer. And before the end of the month her murals will be open to the public at Southgate Mall.

Esther Mahlangu in November 2020, posing for a portrait in one of her colourful rondavels​ decorated with the Ndebele paintwork she's become famous for.
Esther Mahlangu in November 2020, posing for a portrait in one of her colourful rondavels​ decorated with the Ndebele paintwork she's become famous for. (Sebabatso Mosamo/Sunday Times)

Inside her guest house, on the same premises as her homestead — where there is a constant stream of visitors — there are neat and colourful rooms, all with name plates at the doors. 

On the right side is Mzangobe, Maphangela and Lombeni. “In the Ndebele culture, when you marry into a family, they give you a name that signifies your role in the family and what is expected of you. So, these are the names our people have given to their daughters-in-law. But in this guest house, they show that is where families or married people sleep — it’s not compulsory though, just a concept,” she explained.  

The side on the left has the names Ndlelehle and Nomuhlekhabo. These are maiden names; this section is meant for single and young people.  

“My in-laws named me Nyokane,” she says. 

She calls herself Umtrazana wo umrorho no umratha (a young woman whose food staple is green leafy vegetables and pap). “This is what keeps me young,” she says with a glint in her eye.

Her art studio is a hut. We wade through puddles and mud to get there, prompting another complaint from her about the rain.

 

But as she enters her studio, the rain is forgotten. Top of mind is how her art journey started. “I was a naughty girl, that’s how it began. My mother and grandmother used to paint our home every now and then. I would quickly take the feather and paint too when they took breaks. When they came back, they would be amused by my work and send me to the back of the hut where no one would see my work.  

“I improved with time, and they started inviting me to the front,” she said.

If my hands did it, I love it. I love all my work as long as the creativity was flowing from my heart.

—  Dr Esther Mahlangu

Ndebele women pride themselves on their homes’ exterior art, a tradition central to their identity. 

“In those days when a woman got married, she would distinguish her Iqhathane (rondavel house) by painting it charmingly. Basically, your in-laws used this as a measure of your womanhood. You would either be mocked or respected based on how well you painted your home. 

“When I got married, we lived in Middelburg at the farms, that was life back then. I wanted them to know I was raised well, so I painted my house so beautifully,” she said proudly.  

Mahlangu was well known in SA before she was invited to participate in Les Magiciens de la Terre in Paris in 1989. This was her first major international show after French researchers photographed her home art. But her work is not confined to the Ndebele culture and she rejects the notion that she was discovered by Europeans. In fact, when the French met her, she was doing artistic work at Botshabelo cultural village in Middelburg.  

Mahlangu is now working on her Retrospective Exhibition, set to launch in SA in early 2023 before it is moved to international museums. It involves research, interviews, historic photographs, a short documentary, a catalogue and an educational programme. 

Asked what her favourite art piece is, she replies: “If my hands did it, I love it. I love all my work as long as the creativity was flowing from my heart. Why wouldn’t I love it if I created it? Painting is my safe space. When your whole being is invested in something, there’s no way you can just decide to stop or not enjoy what you do,” she said. 

She glances up at the roof of her studio. It has started to leak. The rain again. 

There’s a pile of sand next to the wall. Mahlangu says she is planning to renovate the hut.

“I worry that it might fall down. I want it to return to its old glory, just a little bit. I was raised in this style of the house.

“I can’t let it go.”