Mkhulu Masobeshe is not just a portrait. It is a conversation across time, between grandson and grandfather, between clay and wood. This piece honours Masobeshe.
Ndabuko Ntuli’s grandfather, a sculptor in the 60s–80s who shaped faces out of earth. With nothing but clay in his hands, he pressed memory into form. No gallery, no title, just the quiet act of remembering people through portraiture. That was his legacy. That was where Ndabuko first learned that sculpture could hold a soul. The lineage was sealed early. As a teenager, Ndabuko was in his grandfather’s yard when one of Masobeshe’s clay sculptures fell and struck his toe. His cry cut through the air. Masobeshe called him close, wiped the dust from his hands, and said: That one chose you. I am giving it to you. It was comfort, but it was also a passing of the torch. A sculpture that broke his body was meant to build his calling.
Ndabuko carries that forward in his own language. Where Masobeshe used clay, Ndabuko uses reclaimed wood, rust, metal studs, and pigment. The fragmented planes in Mkhulu echo how clay cracks and is mended. The bold red jaw and turquoise planes feel like fingerprints left in wet earth now translated into colour and construction. The geometric collar nods to the patterning and ritual adornment both men understood: beauty as respect.