Crafting a creative journey
Standard Bank Young Artist Angel Ho goes beyond boundaries in their work
This Joburg heatwave is letting us know what hell must feel like. I’m sweating like a devil, snaking through snail-paced traffic on my way to meet a person called Angel. Everyone with a car or a truck seems to be on the baking M1 North. And they are making me late for my interview with Angel Ho who, just a few days ago, was announced the 2023 winner of the prestigious Standard Bank Young Artist for Performing Art Award.
Arriving slightly behind schedule at the Courtyard Hotel in Rosebank, I see them standing at the hotel gate. Ho is wearing a black dress and a shawl covering their shoulders. They have soft make-up on, contrasted with a striking burgundy lipstick.
Apologising profusely, I join Ho in the sun, desperate for some shade.
Officially, on the award press release, the 29-year-old is “a multidisciplinary artist whose practice extends across musical production and performance, DJ work, performance art, costuming, artistic direction and film”.
“Being a feminine gender-nonconforming queer African body, Ho combines performance, drag and the digital space to blur and deconstruct contemporary culture.”
It doesn’t mention their wicked wit. I ask Ho about their experience in Johannesburg. With a casual puff of a cigarette, they deadpan, “It’s been okay; I have been eating a whole lot of Woolworths food.”
Last year, the prolific Ho released four full- length albums over a four-month period. The opening track on Skitzo Ritual, described by The Wire magazine as a “state of her own nation monologue”, has the line, “Why are you laughing? Jokes weren’t made.”
Slightly nervous, with that in mind, I quip about their imagined post-award glamorous lifestyle but Ho says: “I am not complaining; I love it and I also love the space I am in.”
Born to a single mother in Cape Town, and moving around the city while growing up, Ho’s perspective on home is unconventional. I probe about where home is for them.
“I think the foundation stays with your body; it is not a physical thing,” they explain. “It’s like your soul — your soul can’t be left in one place, it comes with you everywhere you go.
“So, I just hold my memories dear to me, I don’t own places — I just own the memories I make in these places.”
Smoke break over, we settle in a boardroom. Water and aircon never felt so welcome.
They share about where it all began.
“I was in preschool. We had a concert and I literally sang the loudest — I was that kid who sang the loudest,” they share with a mischievous smile. “I had this unrivalled confidence. I outperformed and knew that, when I was on stage, I had to give a show.”
Ho says they were part of the arts throughout primary school.
“When I got to high school, I wanted to join the rugby team and my drama teacher stopped me a day before trying it out. She said, ‘You are making a big mistake; you need to join theatre and drama.’
“Good thing, because the only reason I wanted to join the rugby club was because I wanted to be around hot guys,” they say with their ever-ready wit.
Then they really thrived, even beyond high school. In 2013, Angel Ho started experimenting with making music after getting into Djing. They wanted to learn how to produce their own music and not just DJ other people’s songs.
“So, I made my own music and the first song I made was called 3D Print My Shade.”
There is a moment of silence before we both burst into laughter at the title.
“I don’t know what that even means but I wanted to make it. It was a house track.”
They start playing the beat on the brown boardroom table we are seated at. It’s an inter- esting beat, but I am still stuck on the title.
Ho says as they learnt to make beats, they started thinking about the lyrical content, most of which came from activities that were happening around them at the time, especially at the University of Cape Town where Ho was studying fine art.
“Things were heated at university and it was quite traumatic. I did not grow up experiencing racism and it was a shock to the system because, in my world, I treat everyone equally. My family protected me from racism to some degree.”
They say they started making music about experiencing racism to heal their trauma and the release of their first record Ascension marked a turning point.
“Interesting story about Ascension is that I manifested that Kanye West’s producer Arca would master my music — and she did.”
The Venezuelan musician and record producer was credited for her production contributions on Kanye West’s 2013 Yeezus, rated his last great record.
Ho started travelling the world and performing at festivals but life threw in a challenge.
“I am battling a pre-diagnosis of a spiritual
gift that people consider to be schizophrenia and that took my confidence away from me,” they say.
A lot of the pain from that journey was poured into a project titled Death Becomes Her, which did fairly well. It was named the best experimental album of 2019 by hipsters’ bible, Pitchfork.
Ho says that a lot of people vanished when they were going through this but their mom has been there to support them.
“I am in a space where I am still retraining my brain but what healed me was music, performance and making art costumes,” Ho says. “Anything creative and being around authentic and creative people healed me. Being with my mother and family also helped.
“I am finally ready to speak about this because I know that someone out there can relate to my journey.”
Now, in a space of healing, Ho is creating a show and music with a purpose. Describing an upcoming show centred on “finding your inner cunt”, musically, with a blend of jazz, conceptual soundscapes, pop, hip-hop, and house music.
When I ask about the show’s readiness, a giggle follows.
“I am going to be honest with you — everything is done — I am just waiting for funding.”