Fruits of another road trip... this time Northern Cape
I've been down in the verdant wineland areas of the Western Cape of late. Here we are though, back in, for me, one of the more familiar regions of our amazing landscape—the far away Northern Cape Karoo.
As in my previous post, "Western Cape Well Point", this piece is also about water. Or perhaps should I say, the absence thereof. In these remote arid areas, in the non rain season, most bridges cross bone dry river bed pock marked with sparse Karoo shrub and not a drop of flowing water in sight. The absence of water is as powerful as is the presence of water. During the dry season the land is parched and dusty. It feels like the riverbeds are simply waiting for something—anything—to bring them back to life. Water here is both a presence and an absence, sometimes so powerful in its absence that it becomes almost more significant than the rain itself.
[This painting is another one of those!]
This piece was inspired by reference material gleaned on a trip to Somerset East in the Northern Cape in search of material for a commissioned piece for Uli Haw.
The Northern Cape is one of the few places on planet earth where you can break out your camp table, deckchairs and "Padkos", and eat your 'on the road brunch' in the middle of a river without getting your feet wet.
["Padkos' is the ubiquitous South African term for snacks and sustenance on a journey, directly translated... "Road Food"]
You need to be careful though not to have your picnic in a dry river bed when there's been a typical Karoo downpour upstream emptying a deluge of water into catchment areas. When that happens, in no time flat, literally a wall of water can fill a downstream dry riverbed to up to a few feet or more in depth in a few short minutes.
The Power of a Dry Riverbed
On this occasion I passed by Laingsberg on my way from Capetown up to Somerset East.
I pulled up alongside a dry riverbed, got out of the car and took a walk, enjoying the solitude of the moment. Not a whisper of cloud in the sky and absolutely no sign of rain in the offing.
It turned out that this dry watercourse I was walking in happened to be the infamous Buffels river, and I couldn’t help but think about how quickly things can change. It’s easy to forget just how volatile the Karoo can be. As I walked through the sandy riverbed I was reminded of the tragic event of 1981, when a flash flood turned this same dry riverbed into a rushing wall of water, submerging much of the small town of Laingsberg and claiming many lives, both animal and human in the process. The town was devastated, and the memory of that flood still lingers in the collective conscious of those who live in this part of the country.
Back To The Northern Cape
This region is as ancient as the land itself, a place where time seems to move at a different pace. The animals, the plants, and the very earth seem to exist in a delicate balance, where life persists despite the harsh conditions. The land is sparse, but not empty. There is life everywhere, even in the most unlikely of places.
I hope my painting captures this tension—this blend of absence and presence, of silence and sound. The dry riverbed in the foreground symbolizing the long, lean periods of drought, while the distant hills represent the promise of rain that may or may not come. It’s a theme I often return to in my work because it speaks to the very essence of the land I love so much. The Karoo is a place of extremes—its beauty is quiet, understated, yet it’s also fierce and full of life, even in its stillness.
Through my paintings, I want to evoke this duality: the serene, contemplative beauty of the landscape, and the ever-present potential for change. Whether it’s the possibility of rain or the sudden rush of a flash flood, the Karoo is never truly still. Even in the apparent absence of water, there’s always the potential for something more.
Reflections on my work and process
Being there, getting out of the car and taking a walk downstream from the bridge, allowed me to explore the feeling of actually being in a remote dry riverbed— feeling the emptiness, but also feeling the pulse of the land beneath it.
As always the derelict farm cottage on the other side of the bridge offers the suggestion of destination— and human presence, without the actual physical presence of the human figure in the scene. The water tank by the cottage is placed there intentionally–– an essential element of the story. It speaks of the desperation. The need for long term water storage mere metres away from a river with a name–– but no water!
For me, the process of painting is always about capturing the emotion and essence of a place. "Over The Stream" is not just about the absence of water, but also about the way the land seems to be holding its breath, waiting for change.
As I continue to explore the theme of water—or the lack thereof, in my work, I am reminded of the way our landscapes, both urban and rural, carry stories of survival, resilience, and adaptation. The Karoo is a perfect example of this—where life persists in the harshest of conditions, and where the land itself tells the story of survival in the face of extreme adversity.
For me, the process of painting is always about capturing the emotion and essence of a place. "Over The Stream" is not just about the absence of water, but about the way the land seems to be holding its breath, waiting for change.
In "Over The Stream", my aim is to share with you not just the visual beauty of the Northern Cape, but also the soul of this place. It’s a landscape that speaks to me on a personal level, and I hope this painting captures some of the power, the quiet tension, and the enduring spirit of the Karoo. The absence of water is, in its own way, as telling as is its presence, and it’s this paradox that continues to inspire me as an artist.