Illustrator on still walking, still drawing ...
Loyal readers of Sunday Times Lifestyle’s travel pages need no introduction to the work of illustrator Piet Grobler. For years his quirky characters and bright brush strokes have paired up with many a smile elicited by delightful travel anecdotes in the “Accidental Tourist” column.
Walking from artwork to artwork at his latest exhibition, “Fluit, fluit my storie...”, it dawns on me that he has no shortage of admirers: red dots indicating a sale adorn almost all of his works currently on display at the Tina Skukan Gallery in Pretoria.
Grobler says this exhibition represents the body of work he produced over the past two years. It contains works from two books he illustrated — Tokkelossiebossie, which was launched at the opening of the exhibition, and Paris Cat, as well as a few independent drawings.
At the beginning of 2020 Grobler moved to Colares in Portugal, something he says he did to keep his art alive. “As you age you need to do things to reinvent yourself. It would be a shame to age and get set in my ways. Now I’m being forced to learn a new language and discover a new environment,” he says.
But shortly after he arrived in his new home, lockdown began. “We walked compulsively every day. That’s the route we walked from the village in the mountains to the lighthouse and back,” he says, pointing to a prominent piece hung at the entrance to the gallery. The irony isn’t lost on me that this is his own “Accidental Tourist” experience of sorts.
Walking became a way to survive lockdown, much like drawing was, and it became clear to Grobler that he needed to collaborate with writer Phillip de Vos on their 12th book. De Vos writes compulsively, says Grobler, and illustrating his verses comes naturally to him. For the two of them, Tokkelossiebossie became a survival mechanism during the heavy days of lockdown.
The title of his exhibition draws from the idea of walking past a cemetery and whistling. “It’s this idea that you’re chasing away ghosts or showing that you’re not scared. What I’ve done here was all part of surviving a weird time.”
Fittingly, the decision to not use the entire phrase often used to end Afrikaans stories — fluit, fluit my storie is uit (whistle whistle, my story is out) — indicates that he’s still walking, still drawing, still living. And for you, dear reader, it means more delightful illustrations on our travel pages. ‘Fluit, fluit my storie ...‘ is on show at the Tina Skukan Gallery until March 17.