Lady Skollie, from head to tail

As an artist known for addressing societal taboos through her artwork, Laura Windvogel-Molifi, better known as Lady Skollie, is no stranger to speaking her mind. Skollie spoke to MatieMedia’s Connor Cogill about her past, present and future.

The artist Laura Windvogel-Molifi, also known as Lady Skollie, photographed by Stuart Whipps in front of one of her artworks for her “Weakest Link” exhibition in 2019. “I’m from Retreat, but I do have a bit of a dirty Boland nooi vibe going,” says Skollie. PHOTO: Supplied/Lady Skollie

In 2011, a mid-20s Laura Windvogel-Molifi, better known as the award-winning feminist artist Lady Skollie, had never been overseas, and was determined to get there. So, she made a plan that many would view as unconventional.

“I sold my eggs to get overseas. I never thought I would go to Prague, but I went to Prague and I saw an exhibition of money,” she says. Part of the exhibition was coins and paper money, created by Alphonse Mucha, who she loves as an artist.

This formed part of a full circle moment, according to Skollie, as by the end of the decade, she had been commissioned to design the new R5 coin by the South African Mint.

“I remember being in this exhibition and being like ‘Damn, I’ve never thought of making money as an art form.’ I remember feeling some type of way about it, and life going on. And then I was linked up with a friend of mine and commissioned to design the new R5,” says Skollie.

Retreat-born Skollie now lives in Johannesburg. At the time of the Zoom call with MatieMedia she has just returned from a “rough trip” to Cape Town to see the exhibition of a night light she designed at Spier Wine Farm.

When interrupted by someone in the room, she turns to the side and mutters something incoherent, then apologizes in her own way: “Men are so annoying.”

Alternative futures

In Johannesburg, Skollie views even grocery shopping as a “fantastic, action-packed thing” that she dresses up for. Large platters of fruit are a frequent feature on her Instagram story – this next to her pool and garden, two rarities she feels lucky to have in the city. She says she is happy here, waking up as early as 6 am to write and ruminate before beginning her daily 2 to 3 hours of painting at about 2 pm.

When reminiscing about her former city, Cape Town, Skollie says she feels there is a glass ceiling in place for people of colour. “You could spend forever trapping against it, thinking you’re going somewhere. Cape Town is a place that likes to remind people of colour to be in their place,” says Skollie.

This is embodied in some of Skollie’s memories of childhood, as she recalls how she and her classmates would be taken to only one of two places for class field trips: to Pollsmoor prison, as many of her classmates had parents who worked there, or to The Castle.

Lady Skollie, a feminist artist (right) with her sibling, Kim Windvogel (middle) and their mother, Benita (left) in Retreat shortly after Kim’s birth, 1991. PHOTO: Instagram/Lady Skollie

“The Castle is crazy, because it’s like the pinnacle of everything that went wrong with us as Indigenous people in South Africa,” says Skollie. Her latest triumph, however, is being appointed as the newest member of the Camissa Museum’s board of directors. She says they are trying to make “something new” rather than “an amusement park of colonial horror”.

“I think it’s cool that they’re trying to make it a place where people can come and find healing, kind of like what the District Six Museum was for a lot of people for a while. So, I think I’m one of the youngest people [to be] part of the new board, and I just think it’s cool,” says Skollie.

“And it’s a full circle moment,” she adds. “I always say my work is pop culture cave drawings. I think what people forget about Indigenous people is that it’s a culture that was stopped in its tracks at a point. So, it’s nice to imagine alternative futures.”

“LOOK DADDY! I’m a Snoek!” by the artist Lady Skollie. According to Skollie’s Instagram, the artwork of crayon and ink is based on a San cave drawing of water spirits made in 1837. PHOTO: Supplied/Lady Skollie

An ancient voice’

Skollie’s friend Eben Keun describes her art as a “re-incarnation of an important ancient voice we need to hear”. Keun is the chief brand architect of Breinstorm Brand Architects, who first saw Skollie’s work in her studio under a club called “KingKong” in Johannesburg. It was then, he says, that he knew she was a voice South Africa had been waiting for.

“Laura is a cultural phenomenon that gives me faith in the ability of the arts to transform society,” Keun says. “Her work bravely takes on gender-based violence, colonialism, Calvinism, alcoholism, the patriarchy and all sorts of other systemic hangovers we have to contend with and overcome.”

Skollie recounts, however, that she once struggled to find representation for her and her work in South Africa due to her presence on social media.

“They call it ‘courting’ when everyone tries to impress you or offer you projects to see how you’d work together. All the big galleries did that with me, but the one gallery was like, ‘We can’t really represent someone who is so social media heavy. You’re devaluing your own work’,” explains Skollie.

Because of this, Skollie says she only got representation in South Africa when she was 32 years old. “What’s funny is that maybe two years after that gallery told me that, everybody was on social media,” she says, grinning at the irony.

The artist Lady Skollie’s R5 coin design was commissioned by the South African Mint as part of their initiative to commemorate the 25th anniversary of South African constitutional democracy in 2019, according to the South African Mint’s website. PHOTO: Supplied/Lady Skollie

Skollie’s beat

Skollie has always marched to the beat of her own drum, according to her sibling and fellow artist, Kim Windvogel. The siblings now live a few streets apart in the same neighbourhood.

“We are different people with a solid base,” says Windvogel. These differences are ultimately good for them as people, says Windvogel, as it allows them to “draw from one another” both as people and artists.

One way in which Skollie marches “to the beat of her own drum” is through refusing to compromise her health for her art, she explains. “I’ve just never been someone who wants to suffer for my sport or whatever I do – that’s why I also don’t paint with oil paints,” says Skollie.

“I don’t do anything that might fuck my health up. I’m like ‘water-based acrylic, ink, little baby non-toxic crayons’,” she laughs. “As you get older, you realise you really have to look after your body. It’s like Death Becomes Her. Black don’t crack, but we are light-skin, so it cracks eventually.”

An artwork by the artist Lady Skollie, part of what she calls “We Have Come to Take You Home (a Diana Ferrus Tribute)”. Skollie often works with water-based acrylic paint, ink and crayons, she says. PHOTO: Supplied/Lady Skollie

Snakes and the city

“I think America is where the devil lives, but that’s also where people go to let go,” says Skollie, explaining that though she pretends to hate America, she could envision herself one day moving there.

“I think it’s a place where I’d be very free,” Skollie says. “Once I go there, I might just explode into dirt or filth or whatever. That’s how I felt about Joburg before I moved here, and I’ve lived here since 2016.”  

Such ideas of reinvention inspire Skollie, she explains. That is why she loves the ouroboros – an ancient symbol of a snake eating its own tail, which she sometimes depicts in her work. “The snake means renewal. The snake means that you can shed whatever you thought you were and build a new form,” says Skollie. “That’s why I love ouroboros: because I always feel like a snake eating its own tail.”

As such, Skollie has many ideas for her future. She says she’d like to write a Radio Sonder Grense-esque radio drama, and could imagine herself acting when she is a bit older.

For Skollie, the key to manifesting opportunities in life is “just to be open to this world”. She believes, however, that there are some things which she cannot ask for. 

“It’s so random. A lot of things happen, and a lot of it is really fun, even though it’s a really depressing place to be,” she says. “None of us ask to be born, but sometimes life can be fun.”

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