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It’s clear that local and international collectors see more in
Novela’s work than his extraordinary technique and love for his
subject – they see Novela as a good investment.
In the last five years, gallery owners have upped the price of a
canvas from a modest R350 to a set rate of R7000. Normally, it’s
difficult to put a price on art because the value is not
quantitative; it lies in what you, as the public, are prepared to
pay. But some art does become a valuable commodity when the demand
for it exceeds the supply. And that is what an investment collector
looks for – art that will increase in value, that’s why this artist
has caught the interest of collectors.
First, the works are special and have integrity and, second, a
Novela canvas is fast increasing in value. As a relatively recent
discovery, his true worth has yet to be established, so he is
considered a good investment opportunity. No doubt his New York will
increase his bankability even more.
But what of the man who is painting what one critic referred to as
‘sophisticated and beautiful pieces of African narrative’?
Well, first and foremost, Daniel is a practical man. Asked how he
chooses his canvases, he says simply, “They must fit in the boot of
my car”. He is also a compulsively creative man who can’t make it
through the day without painting.
His refined landscapes are infiltrating galleries and private
collections as his special brand of African Impressionism becomes
better known. His success is the result of years of hardship in an
almost stereotypical story of an artist who would not let go of his
dream.
“I was born in Makado but my Mozambican father took the family back
to his home in Gaza as National Party politics grew increasingly
sinister. I remember so well the wide-open spaces of northern
Mozambique, the miles and miles of ploughed land, the farms. There
was such a strong sense of community. People knew you, knew your
family. There was a sense of belonging. It was an idyllic childhood,
the happiest days of my life, and I returned there with every
painting.
“Each work is memory of my childhood. A return to the state of
bliss. There’s always a woman in my paintings wearing red and blue.
That was my mother Elina.
She was everything to me and my art is my life with her. I want to
recapture the beautiful simplicity of herding the cattle, collecting
firewood and water. It was so peaceful.
“But then I lost my father. I was 10 years old. When war broke out,
it become dangerous to live outside the big cities and so my mother
sent me to Maputo. I enrolled at the Escola de Artes Visuais but
before I could finish I received word that my mother had been
captured by Renamo soldiers. By the time I found her, she had beaten
so badly she couldn’t walk.
By then the war and famine were at their worst, so we returned to
South Africa to my mothers family in Khuma, outside Klerksdorp.
There was a different kind of war there – apartheid. It was the end
of the road for my studies. I couldn’t speak the language and art
wasn’t taught in township schools.”
“I was desperate. I wrote a letter to the Minister of Education in
Brazil begging for assistance and was ecstatic when the department
responded. Sadly, they needed documents I didn’t have, so that was
the end of it. I was devastated. I wanted to study so badly. I still
have the letter. But it was over, so I went to work in the local
Indian store.”
“I would paint at night – always those memories of Mozambique. The
same scenes I love to paint today, except my canvases were smaller.
I’d sell them outside Shoprite Checkers for a couple of rand so that
we could by food. I was married to Frangely by then and had two
little children. She’s always been so supportive of my painting. She
knows if a day goes by and I haven’t held a paintbrush in my hand, I
feel the day was wasted.
“Then I heard about a monthly craft market in town and I started
selling there.
I stopped working to paint professionally. It was hard. Many nights
we went to bed hungry and often we’d travel somewhere to sell my
work and land up with no money to get home. Through it all the need
to study never subsided. I just couldn’t shake it. Then I met Dr.
van Zyl, the Campus Director of Vaal Triangle Technikon. He referred
me to Amareza Buys, head of the Art Department, and she enrolled me
for a national Diploma in fine art.
I can’t explain the joy of returning to study.
“But money was tight. I still sold my paintings outside supermarkets
but it wasn’t enough. My exam results were always blocked because of
unpaid fees.
I won a bursary in my second year but I still couldn’t cope. One day
outside Game, I met a man who would become like a father to me – Les
Lategan. He believed in me to the point where they settled all debts
so that I could focus on my painting. I haven’t looked back.”
Les, a local businessman, is still one of Daniels greatest fans.
“How can you not believe in a man who tells you, ‘I’m going to be a
great artist’?”
Daniel was able to produce larger canvases that testified to his
increasingly refined and sophisticated technique.
“My technique evolved a lot through my studies but my subject matter
remained the same – memories of that happy childhood, open fields
under the endless sky, the Africa that was mine when I was a boy.”
Since his graduation in 2000, Daniel has exhibited regularly in
Gauteng and recently completed a successful tour of Europe where he
sold 60 paintings. In September 2006, Daniel had his first
exhibition in New York at the Sankaranka Art Gallery, which is owned
by Gambian-born Saihou Saidy, whose passion is to showcase African
art.
“While I am all African, my style is not typically African. I
gravitate towards Impressionism, particularly John Constable, Trevor
Chamberlain and Richard Schmid. I also admire South African artist
Adrian Boshoff.”
In the run-up to his departure for the States, Daniel was working
steadily to finish the 25 pieces due to the Sakara Ranka Gallery, as
well as painting several commissions for private collectors. As we
photographed one of his new works, he smiled and said quietly, “Be
careful how you handle that, it’s still wet.”
Newhomes Magazine (Issue 5)
Written by: Elizabeth Donaldson
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