Eastern Cape

Photographic research, which includes the use of original photographic images, transcends disciplinary borders and combines fields of visual history, visual studies, visual anthropology and art history.

Herein lies an ethical responsibility – the avoidance of stereotypical or abusive representations of people portrayed in these images. Readers, of course, bring their own knowledge, emotions, and imagination, thus no author can fully control how their work is going to be interpreted (Gordon & Kurzwelly, 2018).

The reader of this article may therefore be inclined to criticise the approach due to its apparent racial compartmentalisation. In the South African context, it needs to be acknowledged that early South African photographic history remains inextricably entangled with the history of colonialism and a society that was divided along racial lines.

South African historical studio photographs, as nostalgic as they seem to be, hold limitations due to the seemingly gracious lives of the white section of the community in a large mythical colonial world.

The purpose of this article is therefore to uncover the neglected side of South African photographic history, namely Black families photographed in a both formal and informal studio settings.

Historical photographs, when uncovered, create new significance and meaning. There has however been a neglect in researching earlier photography in South Africa – specifically around black communities being photographed - not the tribal or ethnical aspect thereof, but the how the black population of South Africa presented themselves photographically in South African photographic studios. These early private and social photographs, meant for family...

Barville Park 1820 settler estate, located to the west of Port Alfred in the Eastern Cape, has a long tail to its history. It was one of the largest properties allocated to a settler in the region. A portion of it touched on Port Alfred itself. It included well known farms, obviously subdivided off now, however, these were all part of the original farm.

The farm known as Barville Park, comprised of Reed Fountain and Glendower. It was granted to General Campbell and his independent party of Settlers. Unfortunately the General died as a result of injuries sustained when falling off his horse in 1822 so was unable to enjoy the farm he had named. He left his second wife Mary and seven children. When the Seventh Frontier war broke out, fourteen families sought refuge at the farm. During the War of Umlangeni, 300 persons were sheltered at Barville Park farm. (The War of Umlangeni 1850-1852 centred around King William’s Town and into the eastern section of the colony)

Reed Fountain (before restoration)

Glendower farm buildings with beacon in the background

I must tell you, this farm and its buildings are utterly glorious. I would...

The demolition of Central Buildings has brought about a massive response from both citizens of Port Elizabeth, the wider national Heritage bodies and ex Port Elizabethans, internationally. The shock and sadness still continues.

I was devastated to witness this demolition as I have been fighting; for these buildings since 2005.

In 2005 I arrived as curator of No7 Castle Hill Museum. I was informed by an ex curator that this position also entailed being custodian of Castle Hill, which I understood fully, as this is an important historical precinct. I was in constant communication with the Anton Rupert Foundation, which later became Stellenbosch Heritage Houses, as the two cottages below The Summit , belong to this trust.

The offices of Mr Denton (owner of The Summit and Malbador) were contacted, almost on a weekly basis, and each contact recorded in the diary.

The Summit and Malbador were constantly under our watchful eyes. When I arrived at in 2005, these two buildings were quite habitable, in fact we considered moving into one of them.

The Summit (The Heritage Portal)

Whenever windows were broken, vagrants were discovered in the buildings, fires set alight, I would contact the owner. I had wonderful co-operation by the police force to begin...

We have now lost not one, but two buildings along our Donkin heritage trail in Port Elizabeth. A sad week for tourism in PE. These documents of the past are gone, especially when seen in relation to number 7 Castle Hill museum, a provincial heritage site.

Until last month, Castle Hill contained a core of original buildings dating from 1831 to the 1850’s; the parsonage of Rev Francis McCleland (No. 7 Castle Hill - 1831), Sterley Cottages (No’s 10 and 12) and Jarvis House (Malbador). “Malbador”, as it is now known, was built for Alfred Jarvis, a well-known businessman, around 1848/49. He came from Northampton, England, and was in Port Elizabeth by 1833 and in 1838 he married Sarah Smith in St. Mary’s Church and there were 5 children. He was in partnership with Benjamin Norden and a founder of the PE Bank.

Sketch of Jarvis House circa 1880

Jarvis purchased two pieces of land from Rev. Francis McCleland and transferred to him in July of 1847 one on which he built his house (no 9) and the other piece of land being the corner of the former Garrison Company’s garden in Bird Street, next to the vlei. Jarvis left the city in 1859 and died in 1869.

The house was very prominent at the top of Castle Hill. In that period it was...

Does anyone remember Pyott Biscuits? They were the makers of Salticrax, Romany Creams, Iced Zoo and many other SA favourites. Today they’re all branded under the Bakers label and the Pyott name has largely been forgotten.

John Pyott arrived in Port Elizabeth from Scotland in 1882 and opened up a grocery store and bakery in Princess Street, which at the time was a continuation of Main Street. He then moved his business to Elizabeth Street and married Annie Mahaffey in 1884. The main image is the earliest known photograph of his humble beginnings.

In his book “John Pyott: 1862 – 1947”, JS Bennie says that soon after Pyott married, the country was gripped by “gold fever” and he decided to go to the Witwatersrand to “see if there was any future for him there.” He travelled to Durban by boat and bought a horse to take him to the gold fields, and on the way he came across another traveller on a “Cape Cart” with a lame horse. He offered the Dutch gentleman the use of his horse in return for a ride in the cart, and “with alacrity this was accepted. John Pyott’s companion turned out to be none other than Paul Kruger!” But when Pyott saw how rough life was on the gold fields in Barberton and Johannesburg, he decided that it was no place for his wife and their small baby and he returned to Port Elizabeth.

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As a child my gran used to take me to walk through the gardens of the famed Old Word Concretes that have in existence since 1919. This place was my place of enchantment. The little fat cherubs and elves. I still have their pots in my garden. Well I had... I think my landscaper son has taken them away. He too is an artist and, how bizarre never having told him this story, his sculptures are in the category of outside art.

One of my lecturers many many years ago now (circa 1970s} told me that I belonged to the "uncharacterised few who bordered on the alternative" (I think he meant mad) as I revere the freedom of expression that very few people are able to conceptualize and carry forward, ignoring the rigid notion of art, or what is acceptable.

He challenged me to enter a competition and submit a thesis on art which I did and I won R200.00 (a fortune then). It paid for my 1955 Morris Minor car and two terms at tech, art school. I called it 'Outsider Art' - Helen Martens from the Owl House, Nieu Bethesda, being a prime example. Her renditions of people and animals are for me, perfect.

Helen Martens' ‘bottle lady (top) and others (Bev Young)...

There are not many South Africans who have been honoured by having a statue of themselves erected in London. Only two come readily to mind and they are Jan Smuts and Nelson Mandela, whose statues stand proudly in Parliament Square, Westminster. However, there is a lesser known South African who has a statue which stands outside Bank Station; he is James Henry Greathead (1844-1896), the grandson of an 1820 Settler of the same name. So why is it that a boy from Grahamstown should be so honoured and what was his achievement? To answer this you have to go back in time 160 years to the London of Charles Dickens, when the metropolis was becoming overcrowded and the streets congested with traffic. 

Statue of James Henry Greathead (The Heritage Portal)

James Greathead had come to a bustling London in 1859, as a fifteen year old boy, and he enrolled at the Westbourne Collegiate School (then part of Kings College London), having already completed his South African schooling at St Andrews, Grahamstown. In 1864 he would embark on a career in Engineering, becoming a member of the Institute of Civil Engineers. He would work closely with the eminent engineering consultants and brothers Peter Barlow...

In 1811 Joseph de Maistre wrote that every nation gets the government it deserves. By extension then, it also get the heritage it merits, and as building after building in our city centres continue to fall before the demolisher’s hammer, many South Africans have been left wondering exactly what they have done to warrant the destruction of so many of their memories.

To many, 1994 marked a turning point in our history, when we had the opportunity of leaving behind the horrors perpetuated by racism and Apartheid and embracing a bright new rainbow future, free from the guilt and recriminations of past events. Regrettably such an approach requires that many hard realities be put into abeyance, and it has not always been possible to ignore the bitter legacy that our ancestors have handed down to us. 

A South African flag is waved in front of the Chamber of Mines Building in Johannesburg (The Heritage Portal)

The metaphorical flow of history is linear and does not have sharp corners or U-turns. Instead it moves inexorably through time, and while the lies and dark secrets of our colonial past may lie hidden for a while, eventually history will open them to the light of critical examination and the fresh air of open debate. Then, like...

In a recent article published by the author (click here to view), reference was made to a modern photographic phenomenon, namely “found photographs”. In short: “Found photographs” are discarded vintage photographs typically found at charity stores, car boot sales, flea markets or antique fairs. As a single image, any “found” or the converse thereof, “lost” photograph, has sadly lost its original context when viewed by a total stranger who would have no context to the photograph. A different context can however be provided again when “lost” images are clustered together into a theme, such as the one presented in this article.

This article focuses solely on the pavement photographs taken on South African streets prior to the 1970s. At a recent antique fair, the author obtained a discarded photo album, containing several pavement photographs.

Two elegant ladies walking down a street in Durban. They can clearly be seen “courting” the camera.

Two young ladies walking down a street in Johannesburg. They both seem somewhat...

Below is Part 3 of Mel Baker's extraordinary account of being a Prisoner of War during World War II. Click here to read Part 2 and here to download the full account including detailed footnotes. The photo above shows the main gate of Stalag XVIII A (Prisoner of War Camp in Southern Austria).

Leaving Wernersdorf

Two weeks before Christmas 1944 we were informed that we were leaving Wernersdorf the next day. No indication as to where we were going. We were not at all happy about the fact of leaving and also the timing, as we had sorted out all our meals and drinks for Christmas. Lex had made beautiful menus for each of us with items like plum pudding a la (name of a farm). He had drawn army and naval crests at the top of the menu (although the naval one had a crown instead of ships). We even had a bottle of schnapps - that we drank the day of leaving.

The evening before leaving, I visited my girlfriend Paula for the last time to say goodbye.

On the day we were leaving I went to the Windischbauer and got him to let us use the horses and the wagon to take our kit to Wies. While making this arrangement, he gave me a farewell sample of schnapps.

We left with very mixed feelings. After three years in Wernersdorf, we had got ourselves very well organised and were probably in the best situation that a prisoner of...