Intersectional Identity at A&K: A Review
Article by Nicole Shamira
Photography by @visualsbyeli
Khanya Sogiba and Alice Mathebula, founders of A&K Art
On 1 August 2025, A&K Arts brought Intersectional Identity to Evolve Studio in Woodstock, transforming the layered indoor-outdoor venue into something between a gallery, a sanctuary, and a stage. The night was not just an exhibition but a gathering of voices, bodies, and memories exploring what it means to hold multiple truths in one Black body.
From the moment you entered, it was clear that curators Khanya Sogiba and Alice Mathebula were asking us to step into more than a show. They were asking us to step into an atmosphere. Each detail, from the walls dressed in photography to the live music carrying us between acts, seemed designed to blur the line between art and life. Khanya later reflected that the night felt “very fulfilling in its most authentic form,” precisely because of the challenges that forced both curators and artists to confront, explore, and connect in real time.
Among the most striking performances was the collaborative piece by Onele Ncedana and Sisipho, which wrestled with themes of identity and claiming the self. Barefoot and wrapped in fabric that carried histories of its own, their bodies became both vulnerable and defiant. It was performance art as confrontation, asking us not to look away but to sit with the rawness of becoming.
Music threaded the evening with intimacy. RoZee leaned fully into their message of love as sustenance. For them, art is meant to be shared, and they held the crowd in that belief. When the audience began singing along, RoZee described it as a moment of beautiful reciprocity: a call met with response, a reminder of community woven through sound.
Jemell brought her own tenderness to the stage. Drawn to the exhibition by its diversity of voices, she offered songs that were both vulnerable and steady, sharing pieces of herself while urging others to honor their passions. “I want people to feel what they are feeling and express it,” she said afterwards. The audience leaned in, visibly intrigued, receiving her music as both invitation and affirmation.
Then there was Rea, whose poetry anchored the night with its storm-like presence. Her words bent the language of faith into protest, turning prayer into something raw, urgent, and unflinching. One piece in particular reframed the Lord’s Prayer through the lens of women’s rights, scarred bodies, and resistance. Listening to her was like being caught in a hymn stitched with fury and tenderness. She reminded us that speaking of women’s rights in this world is both prayer and protest, a liturgy of survival.
On the walls, Michelle Madzima’s photography held a quieter but no less potent space. In stark black and white, her images carried the weight of grief, memory, and tenderness. For Michelle, photography is an act of quiet resistance, a way of holding space for pain and healing, shaped by her Zimbabwean upbringing and the unspoken histories it carried. Her work was not just about what we saw, but what we felt linger in the silences.
Together, these voices built an evening that felt both grounded and electric. Khanya described the process as a test of what A&K Arts could become, and the result was a night that pushed through obstacles to create something deeply connective. Intersectional Identity was less about a polished aesthetic and more about what it felt like to be there: to witness, to sing, to be unsettled, to be held.
The night ended as it began, in community. It was a reminder that art is not only about what hangs on walls or what fills the air in performance. It is also about what we carry home in our bodies afterward. For A&K, this exhibition marked a step in building a space where art can be both sanctuary and provocation. For the rest of us, it was an evening that asked us to confront, to explore, and above all, to connect.