25 OCTOBER 2009 CITY PRESS 27 BOOKS T HE epic span of pho- tographer Alf Kum- alo’s life and career is contained in a new photographic memoir entitled Through My Lens. Paging through this 200-plus coffee-table collection of images taken by the legendary lens- man, one could be forgiven for thinking that wherever history hap- pened, there was Kumalo, camera in hand, ready to capture the moment. Kumalo, a self-taught photogra- pher, whose love affair with the camera began in the late 1940s and who worked for iconic publications such as Drum and Bantu World in the 1950s, is still a working snapper with no intention of ever retiring. Through My Lens is part biogra- phy and part pictorial memoir of a photographer’s journey through some of the most turbulent and de- fining moments of the 20th century. This collection offers just a sample of a much larger historical cata- logue Kumalo has amassed over the five decades he has worked as a photojournalist. Kumalo’s life story is told through pictures he took and through pic- tures taken of him. Unlike most pho- tojournalists, Kumalo is not shy of being in front of the camera. The col- lection begins with a prologue enti- tled The Life and Times of Alf Kuma- lo, and it could’ve been an alterna- tive title for the collection. Included in this section is a photo of Kumalo in his youth decked out in full Zulu regalia, hamming it up for the cam- era, and there’s another of the pho- tographer clad in a three-piece suit and hat, striking a pose for a Man about Town series for Drum. The most endearing image is one of his late wife, Jacqueline Poola Ku- malo, bathing their daughter Nom- fundo in an enamel bowl in 1963. The little girl is looking straight at the camera, covered in soap suds, her face a picture of sheer delight as her mother looks on dotingly. The biographical aspect of this collection also functions to under- score the brutality of the apartheid regime and includes an image taken by Harry Mashabela of Kumalo being roughed up by the cops at a boxing match at Wembley Stadium in Johannesburg in 1976. It is one of many images of police brutality and harassment endured by the tenacious cameraman and which worked, he says, only to cement his determination to document his world and its harsh realities. “I can’t count how many times during apartheid I was harassed by the police, beaten, arrested or just roughed up. The more often it hap- pened, the less I was afraid,” says Kumalo, whose skull got cracked in one particularly brutal encounter with the old South African police force. Kumalo is best known as one of South Africa’s most experienced photojournalists, but Through My Lens illustrates that he was also an international jet-setter whose pas- sion for images and people took him to where the action was. Even during times of severe and often arbitrary travel restrictions placed on politically active black South Africans. His early work quickly earned him a reputation as a political photographer and made him the focus of intense scrutiny and persecution by a system intent on preventing images of apartheid brutality seeing the light of day. Kumalo was arrested during the ’76 Soweto uprising and pistol- whipped by police. The case dragged on for a year and he was given a three year suspended sen- tence and told not to take pictures any more. He defied that and picked up his camera as soon as he walked out of court. He took many of the iconic images of Nelson Mandela and the Rivonia trialists, some of which are con- tained in this collection. Kumalo’s closeness to Winnie and Nelson Mandela meant he was perfectly placed to capture rare images of inti- macy and family life. His relation- ship with the Mandelas continued after Madiba was imprisoned and one close-up image of daughter Ze- nani as a little girl – with a single tear rolling down her cheek watch- ing her mother fly off to visit her fa- ther for the first time on Robben Is- land – bears testimony to the im- mense trauma suffered by this family. Kumalo dedicates an entire chapter to Winnie and includes images shot exclusively for her imprisoned husband. But this is also a book of love and laughter that charts our country’s history from the days of unimagina- ble darkness and despair to an era of hope and joy. The images that best capture the elation of freedom are a series taken at Mandela’s home in Soweto shortly after his release and depicts the reunion of Leah and Des- mond Tutu, Mandela and Walter Si- sulu. These close-ups of unbridled joy and hilarity are rendered poign- ant by the many preceding images of this group of stalwarts, who gave their best years to the fight against apartheid. Kumalo travelled extensively during his career. Travel is a unify- ing metaphor throughout this col- lection which charts his journey to many destinations including Lon- don, Kinshasa, Lesotho and the United States. He travelled to Zaire in 1974 for the fight between Muhammad Ali and George Fore- man, but nearly didn’t make it after getting arrested for three days in Zambia, being refused entry into Kenya, getting sent back to Zambia and then back to South Africa, where he had to start all over again. Kumalo eventually landed in Kin- shasa four hours before the Rumble in the Jungle began. Through My Lens includes a chapter on Ali, which documents not only his legendary prowess in the ring, but also the close friend- ship that developed between him and Kumalo after they met in Lon- don in the late 70s. In one photo- graph Ali strokes Kumalo’s head and in another Ali sits eating ice cream in his bedroom in Chicago. He dedicates an entire chapter to artists he photographed in exile such as Miriam Makeba, Hugh Masekela, Caiphus Semenya and Letta Mbulu. And also of Winston Mankunku Ngozi taking a break while recording Yakhalínkomo in 1968, of pianist Gideon Nxumalo with eyes closed, one hand holding a cigarette another playing the pi- ano, and of Kippie Moeketsi, Stan Getz and Alan Kwela rehearsing, as well as an image of lesser-known artists such as Alfred Maqubela, Sydney Khumalo and Ephrahim Ngatane on the streets of Pimville in the 70s. But it is an image right upfront, taken of artists Dumile Feni and Ju- lian Bahula in London, also in the early 70s, which is one of the most poignant images in the entire collec- tion. In the wide-angle shot, Feni sits on a mattress surrounded by vast canvases of his art, looking pen- sive and dishevelled, his face speaks volumes of the pain of exile and he seems almost oblivious to both Ba- hula and Kumalo. Feni left South Af- rica in 1968 and died in New York before South Africa was liberated. But Kumalo didn’t just chronicle the rich and famous, brutality and oppression, he also photographed ordinary people. And it is these im- ages that bring levity to a collection that could otherwise have been a se- rious buzz-kill. Photographs such as an Evaton man bowing down in prayer at the announcement of Man- dela’s release from prison, of a little girl with a dog on her back wrapped like a baby, of a beautiful group of women smiling and chatting out- side the Rivonia Trial and staff rid- ers on a train in the 70s, all illustrate the point that life went on in spite of oppression, hardship and pain. This collection of images, with text by journalist Tanya Farber, is a testimony to the long and success- ful career of a dogged photographer with an artist’s eye for light and shadows. It charts the tears and tri- umphs of a nation, the unbowed spirit of a defiant people, of inno- cence and optimism, of heroes and heroines both known and unknown. ) Through My Lens: A Photo- graphic Memoir is published by Tafelberg STILL GOING STRONG . . . Alf Kumalo at his Photographic Museum in Diepkloof Picture: Ruth Motau ARTISTRY AND EXILE . . . Dumile Feni and Julian Bahula in London FOR HIS EYES ONLY ... A picture of Winnie Mandela taken for Madiba in prison THE GREATEST ... Khumalo and Muhammad Ali before a fight at Madison Square Gardens in New York in 1977 ORDINARY PEOPLE . . . A couple at Newmarket Racecourse in Alberton in the 60s EYE ON THE PRIZE Veteran photojournalist Alf Kumalo’s new photographic memoir bears testimony to the long and successful career of a dogged photographer with an artist’s eye for light and shadows, writes GAIL SMITH