Gawie Joubert is a sculptor whose work delicately traverses the fine line of being deeply personal and yet retaining a universality all too often missing from the Berlin art scene’s desire for raw provocation.
On a bright Lichtenberg morning, I caught up with him over a coffee in the studio he shares with his husband Chad and friend Marcus.
Who do you make art for, and why?
Gawie: I make art for me. My work is anatomical, coming from my need to get out my experiences suffering from severe migraines.
For those who don’t suffer there’s a lot of misunderstanding, and for those who do it’s a representation of that pain. More than that there is something very universal. We all have bodies. We experience our bodies differently, but we all have an understanding of it.
My work is a lot about shared suffering — both sharing what I experience and sharing the pain that others suffer. If there’s someone who experiences one migraine, make them understand that other people are experiencing the same things, it might just be in a different way but we are all looking for commonalities that connect us.
I think there’s such beauty within anatomy and the ways you can manipulate artistically to tell a story. But I can also take a step back I simply enjoy making stuff that people enjoy having being around. I want to make stuff that people enjoy.
Can you tell me about your development as an artist?
Gawie: As a kid, I was super hyperactive and the one thing that would keep me in one place was drawing. And since a young age, it’s all I wanted to do.
At preschool, I vividly remember kids couldn’t draw basic things, like for instance a butterfly or a bunny. They couldn’t understand how to put shapes together to form something, but I could do it and I could show them how to do it too.
It was one of the few things that I could actually focus on. I could just sit down and do it.
As I got older, I took it more seriously and thought okay this is not just a thing that I’m going to do but this is actually part of who I am.
Over time I started working with this gallery in Johannesburg, and they were just amazing. They would really push for sales and push for commissions to the point where it became a full-time career.
Later when I moved to Berlin, I arrived thinking ‘I am going to be an artist here’. And Berlin was like, ‘No you won’t’.
How has Berlin changed your practice and the work you produce?
Gawie: Tremendously. Back home I had like a kind of a safety net. I could make and sell work and make a decent living, but it never pushed me to go beyond.
Moving to Berlin, and having to get a job changed the way I approach art. I come from a drawing background where all I did was draw and now all I do is sculpt, so it’s completely changed.
Although it was a big change, it took me to a nice place where I wasn’t thinking about making art to sell, I was thinking about making art for the sake of art.
But it was hard in the beginning. When I moved to Berlin I went through a bit of a low point where I thought ‘fuck, I’ve just completely failed’. I can’t make the work I always have and sell it like I always have.
Then during COVID I just stopped drawing completely.
“My work is a lot about shared suffering — both sharing what I experience and sharing the pain that others suffer.”
How has your work evolved since then?
Gawie: As I said, all I do now (really) is sculpture. During lockdown, I would sit in front of the tv and sculpt tiny dicks. Sculpture, specifically anatomical structure, escalated from then to where I am now.
So the environment pushed me to change my work, which is really focused on my experience of suffering from severe migraines.
Originally my work had a lot to do with nature and how I perceived myself within nature. And also seeing nature as like a healing kind of part of life. I’ve always done a lot of these skull drawings, which became part of it.
It’s not necessarily about pushing boundaries. What I’m doing is trying to relay a very specific idea of what I’m experiencing. Berlin is that it’s an incredible place to make art and give inspiration.
It’s very meditative for me. I feel very calm and relaxed when I’m working.
I think because I’ve been doing it for so long it just feels like second nature in the best way possible. I think if I didn’t make art I would start to become very anxious and feel like I’m missing out, or ask myself why I’m not doing what I’m supposed to be doing. It just feels right for me.