Putting aside her dreams of becoming an artist, Nicolene (Nikki) Swanepoel thought she would settle into a career as a veterinarian. As a consultant in animal behavior, Nikki became a lecturer in veterinary ethology and anthrozoology at the University of Pretoria in South Africa. After a near-death cycling accident, however, she decided to take a chance at becoming a full-time artist. Now as a painter, printmaker, and sculptor, Nikki explores human-animal interactions and the role of animals in South African identity. She has exhibited locally and internationally, winning awards in art competitions in France and the U.S.

 

Kismot: Earlier in your career you worked as a veterinarian and animal behavior consultant. How did you transition from working as a scientist to working as an artist?

Nicolene Swanepoel: Actually after completing high school I was fortunate to be able to study fine art. However, as so many of us discover, it is unlikely to find a good job as an artist, especially as a young, unsure person, and even more challenging to set of as a professional artist from the word go. Once I graduated, I spent a year desperately trying to find work –I applied for a crazy variety but was just not successful. My parents being very keen to assist in this, I eventually I decided I might as well study for a “proper” job, that of becoming a ‘horse doctor’. But my path took another direction, once enrolled for the vet course, I discovered the field of animal behaviour (or ‘veterinary ethology’) and finding it most interesting, directed my veterinary career to discover as much as I can in this field. Much later, after near death cycling accident (April 1999), I realised that one never knows how much time one has left. I realized that, even at the risk of an insecure financial future, I should pursue my most consuming passion and become fully committed to being a visual artist.

K: Much of your art explores the relationship between animals and humans. Why is this subject important to you?

N: (Non-human) animals have been plunged into a state of helplessness by human interference – we have robbed them of almost every possible freedom and ability to fend for themselves. We destroy them, yet we (do not realize that we) cannot live without them. I want to remind us that we are, after all, also animals, just ones with ‘different’ aptitudes (for instance a complex intellect), that, having taken their fate into our hands, we should be responsible for other animals, respectful and appreciative of them, or risk losing the last remnants of our own sense of belonging and meaning on this earth.

K: Bovine imagery is a recurring theme in your work. Why cattle?

N: Cattle have walked a convoluted path with humans from the earliest of times. As a “white African” I am particularly interested in following this track from the times of the earliest colonial interference in Africa – where cattle have often been a central spindle of conflict (but occasionally also an element of reconciliation). For me cattle represent a potent symbol of our post-colonial (South) African identity. Secondly, as ancient domesticated animals that are still very much prevalent in our societies, but in conveniently obscured forms – packed as meat wrapped in shiny plastic, and milk in cartons on supermarket shelves, they deserve elucidation. So many city kids grow up not realising where their food comes from – thus unable to give due respect or, even more importantly, understand how they/us fit into the world. A third aspect about cattle for me is how the role of cattle as objects of (ab-)use and value reflected on gender identities.

K: Can you describe your creative process?

N: Occasionally (external, co-incidental) inspiration guides, and while this can be a very powerful force, in general my creative process is a result of diligent work, even when I not feeling particularly inspired. Making art is very much a continual problem solving process, infinite, minute little questions that need to be acted upon all the time - in some ways it is similar to how a computer works – constant choice between zero/one – an infinite number of ”yes?/no?” dilemmas- and whether one goes the route of the one or the other opens a universe of new possibilities. In this way the work process in itself in continually inspirational, one need not wait for external sources to “enlighten” one, on the contrary, the challenge is to not be swept away by the multitude of possibilities that present themselves, but instead to focus all one’s energy on the work at hand, and ‘complete’ it, before moving on into another one of those infinite possibilities.

As a young art student I was astounded by my professor’s unromantic statement to spend time working as artist the same as if it is an office job – nine to five every day – and to take breaks and holidays too. I now believe him, but I tend to plough ahead and work far more than 9-5 and not take proper breaks - I cannot remember when last I had a proper holiday - I find nothing more comforting than being able to immerse myself in my work all the time – which can lead to bouts of burnout.

K: How did you choose sculpture as your main medium?

N: After two decades as a painter and printmaker I finally started working in clay, and as any ceramist will confess – the medium is addictive! I would love to spend much more time painting, but, I am afraid, I am hooked to this drug!