Selection of Digital Stop-Frame Animations

Yrotsih & Yromem’s Galaxy of Impossibilities (2011): exhibited at Fried Contemporary, Pretoria 2011, Innibos National Festival 2016, KKNK 2015, Hallo Ambassodor 2016, Unisa Art Gallery 2014

It has been posited that history, akin to perception and structure, operates as a framework, while memory is grounded in personal narratives that contribute to individual identity (Blight, 2002). W. Walter Menniger further contends that history is not merely an objective academic account of past events, but also encompasses emotions and beliefs intricately tied to personal sentiment (Greene, 2004). This sentiment is vividly illustrated in Yrotsih & Yromem’s Galaxy of Impossibilities, a stop-frame animation in which history and memory converge, presenting an illogical, non-linear narrative. The animation suggests that memory can be understood as a fragmented recollection of past experiences, intricately interwoven with an individual’s subjective process of remembrance. Through its metaphorical visual storytelling, Lüneburg proposes that history and memory are not discrete entities but are concurrent facets of the same past, delicately interwoven into a tapestry that blends fact and fiction. A kaleidoscopic interplay of colors, surreal creatures, and eccentric movements characterize the animation, where the protagonists, Yrotsih (the film camera) and Yromem (the girl), oscillate between disappearance and reappearance as they navigate an unfamiliar galaxy that is at once eerily familiar and indeterminable. Furthermore, Yrotsih & Yromem’s Galaxy of Impossibilities highlights the elusive and paradoxical nature of history and memory, which defy the imposition of a structured, objective chronology. Instead, these constructs tend to dissolve, absorb, and reconfigure the past into fragmented, non-linear representations, challenging the very notion of a coherent, chronological record.

References: Blight, D.W. (2002). Historians and 'memory'. Common-Place, 2(3). Available at: www.common-place.org. Accessed 22 August 2010. Greene, M.A. (2004). The Messy business of remembering: history, memory and archives. Archival Issues, 28(2). 

Loss (2014). DPhil Exhibition: exhibited at The Unisa Art Gallery, Pretoria South Africa,Innibos National Festival 2016, KKNK 2015.

This study critically investigates the significance of a Freudian model in an analysis of artworks included in my video-installation, Loss. A practice-led research approach is followed. The medium employed in creation of the artworks is digital stop-frame animation as video art and video-installation. An application of theoretical positions is integral to my creative work in the way that it evokes, reveals and excavates personal loss and traumatic memories. Video, and more specifically digital stop-frame animation, is argued to be a medium which advances creativity. It is perplexing, multidimensional and unique in the way that it brings together distinctive components of Freudian and contemporary trauma theory. In the research analysis visuals and narratives are used not only to contribute to or further an understanding of Freudian theory, but also to criticise and test the applicability of his theories in modern society. Performative and qualitative research methods as well as self-reflexivity assist in visual and theoretical exploration of the particularities and nature of video artworks produced by technology. These methods focus on digital stop-frame animation, which is presented as a new form of creative expression, and the way trauma, memory and loss are visualised through the medium. It includes processes such as digital painting and drawing using, for instance, a computer mouse and Adobe Photoshop. The video-animations are done by using the layering function, paint-box effects, colour filters and the Liquify tool. This tool is employed as the single means by which moving images are created. Through both the theoretical and practical components of this study it is argued that the digital layering and erasure of images mimic the process of engaging with repressed as well as remembered trauma. The practice of digital stop-frame animation is integrated in Freud’s analysis of traumatic memory, anxiety, repression, screen memories, mourning, melancholia, hysteria, Nachträglichkeit and trauma-dreams. The video artworks emphasise memory as a complex system which triggers the repression of traumatic memories of child sexual abuse, the loss of a childhood friend and miscarriage. A dominant theme that reinforces the conclusion of the study is the extent to which traumatic memory, loss and child sexual abuse are interlinked in Freud’s trauma-model. It is further supported by contemporary theory.

Displacement Series(2008): exhibited at The Monash University Caufield Campus Gallery In Mebourne, The Glass Cube In Frankston, Australia, The Monash University Gippsland Campus Australia, The Unisa Art Gallery, Innibos National Festival 2016, KKNK 2015.

The Displacement series comprises three animations titled Dreaming of Home, Dreaming of Peculiar Creatures, and Dreaming of Those Things I Fear. This body of work explores the experience of displacement, particularly the psychological and emotional complexities of being away from home. The series engages with the themes of longing, memory, and the fragmented nature of identity when navigating unfamiliar spaces.

Dreaming of Home originates from a deeply personal and subliminal yearning for South Africa while residing in foreign countries. Throughout my travels, I frequently experience an acute sense of remoteness, a disconnection from the familiar landscapes, sounds, and cultural textures of my homeland. This sensation of isolation intensifies when traversing vast geographical distances, evoking a profound emotional response that underscores the complexities of belonging and displacement.

As an artist, I assume the role of a nomad, carrying with me a repository of visual memories accumulated through global experiences. These recollections inform my artistic practice, shaping narratives that blur the boundaries between reality and dreamscapes. In Dreaming of Home, I depict myself in a state of sleep, haunted by fragmented, nightmarish visions that coalesce into a disjointed narrative. These visions manifest as monstrous creatures engaged in an ongoing struggle with virtuous beings. The grotesque and surreal imagery serves as a metaphor for my homeland—an environment imbued with deep cultural richness and beauty, yet also marked by persistent violence and turmoil.

By invoking monstrous figures as symbolic representations of the tensions within the concept of ‘home,’ this work confronts the paradoxical nature of belonging. While home is often idealised as a place of security and familiarity, it is also a space where fear, conflict, and historical trauma reside. The act of dreaming within the context of displacement becomes a means of processing these contradictions, revealing how memory and imagination converge to construct an internalised sense of place. In this way, Dreaming of Home does not merely depict longing but also interrogates the layered emotional terrain of displacement, where nostalgia and unease coexist within the subconscious.

In a broader artistic and theoretical framework, the Displacement series resonates with discourses on exile, diaspora, and the psychological dimensions of home. Artists who explore themes of migration and estrangement frequently employ surreal and dreamlike aesthetics to articulate the instability of identity and memory. Within this tradition, my work engages with the liminal space between presence and absence, between the real and the imagined. Through stop-frame animation, I reconstruct fleeting impressions of home, rendering them as unstable, shifting entities that mirror the experience of displacement itself.

Ultimately, Dreaming of Home and its companion works in the Displacement series articulate the deeply personal yet universally resonant condition of longing for home. By visualising this experience through the lens of dreams, the series offers an introspective exploration of how displacement shapes artistic consciousness, forging a complex interplay between memory, fear, and the enduring search for belonging.

Dream From Afar(2009): exhibited in Dakar’t Biennial, Germany, Italy, Tunisia, Canada, Innibos National Festival 2016, KKNK 2015, Unisa Art Gallery 2014.

“Dream from afar” reveals personal memories based on a series of traumatic historic events which happened in Southern Africa during 2008. At that time I was living in Australia and experienced these traumatic events indirectly. However, it still impacted me to a great extent and caused a sense of traumatic amnesia. According to Martina Kopf (2008:42) a person witnessing a traumatic event indirectly (through narratives presented by the media or public hearings) experiences “empathic witnessing”. This indicates the longing to respond emotionally to the traumatic event, whether through visual art (Kopf 2008:42), as seen in Dream from afar. I suppressed the traumatic events I have seen in the media and replaced the violent intend associated with them through dreamlike mysterious visuals in Dream from afar. These traumatic events were the South African President Thabu Mbeki’s resignation, the ongoing xenophobic violence in South Africa, starvation and poverty in Zimbabwe and Robert Mogabe’s tyranny, the spread of cholera in Angola, Botswana troops gathering along the Zimbabwean border, floods in Mozambique and the death of Zambian president Levy Mwanawasa. These traumatic events are metaphorically exposed through Dream from afar and suggest a form of memory impairment. Van der Kolk (1995:4) suggests that traumatic memories differ from daily memories. The memories of traumatised individuals illustrate that emotional and perceptual fundamentals are quite prominent in that memory (Terr 1993:96-104), as seen in the visuals in Dream from afar. There are major differences between memories of traumatic events and memories of ordinary events. These differences might be attributable to severe emotional provocation during traumatic experience – whether experienced directly or indirectly, which interferes with memory functions in the hippocampus of the brain (Van der Kolk 1995:4). These memory impairments include traumatic amnesia, global memory impairment and dissociative processes. Dream from afar presents a sense of traumatic amnesia by suggesting that the main character enters a dream state after coming to terms with the traumatic events in Southern Africa.

If I Did(n’t)(2007): exhibited at Absa L’atelier 2007, Innibos National Festival 2016, Kknk 2025, The Black Cube 2011.

If I Did(n’t)serves as a poignant visual metaphor for the profound sorrow, psychological turmoil, and existential emptiness that linger in a woman's heart both during and after the process of abortion. Through the medium of stop-frame animation, the artist articulates the corporeal as well as the psychosomatic struggles embedded in the complex and often agonising decision-making process surrounding the termination of pregnancy. The animation foregrounds the internal conflict experienced by the protagonist, presenting an emotional battleground where notions of motherhood, autonomy, and morality collide.

Central to the animation is the imagery of two figures—one black and one white—engaging in an act of unity before ultimately vanishing. This visual motif suggests the coexistence of conflicting emotions within the female psyche, embodying the dualities of presence and absence, creation and loss, certainty and doubt. The work interrogates the dissolution of conventional moral boundaries, as the protagonist grapples with dichotomous notions of right and wrong, justice and injustice, as well as personal agency versus societal expectation.

Beyond the immediate psychological distress, If I Did(n’t) also evokes the broader emotional and physiological repercussions of abortion. The experience is often accompanied by a spectrum of psychological responses, including grief, guilt, relief, and, in some cases, prolonged emotional distress. Studies indicate that while some individuals experience an initial sense of relief, others may confront lingering depression, anxiety, and feelings of isolation. The work captures this liminal state, reflecting the oscillation between empowerment and vulnerability that characterises the post-abortion experience. Furthermore, it underscores the ways in which social, cultural, and personal histories shape an individual’s perception of reproductive choices, making the act of decision-making an inherently complex and deeply personal process.

Through its intricate visual narrative, If I Did(n’t) ultimately serves as a meditation on loss, choice, and the fragile boundaries of selfhood. The animation does not seek to prescribe a singular interpretation but rather invites viewers to reflect on the nuanced and often unspoken dimensions of abortion—its emotional, ethical, and existential weight—within the broader discourse of female autonomy and reproductive rights.

My Klein Kameelperdjie (2019): exhibited At INNIBOS 2019, THE UNISA STAFF SHOW 2021 UNISA ART GALLERY 2014.

This stop-frame animation consists of 1,155 liquefied frames that unfold sequentially on the screen. The accompanying soundtrack is a piano composition, both composed and performed by the artist, which conveys the distress of a pet giraffe searching for her deceased calf. The work engages with Freudian concepts of mourning, melancholia, and motherhood, foregrounding the profound psychological impact of loss—particularly in the context of miscarriage.

Freud postulates that melancholia arises from an agonising sense of misery, a disruption of external awareness, a diminished capacity to love, and a deep crisis of self-consciousness. Within this framework, the loss of a baby is not merely a biological event but also the loss of an anticipated maternal identity, rendering it synonymous with the loss of motherhood itself. Freud’s conception of motherhood as a fundamental passage to womanhood underscores the existential weight of such an experience. The animation further explores the profound grief associated with miscarriage by drawing parallels between human mourning and the way giraffe mothers grieve for their dead calves.

Giraffes, much like humans, exhibit behaviours that suggest an acute awareness of loss. Studies have documented giraffe mothers standing vigil over their deceased young for hours or even days, nuzzling the lifeless body and displaying reluctance to leave. This prolonged engagement with the deceased offspring mirrors the human experience of mourning, wherein grief manifests not only in an emotional and psychological capacity but also through physical withdrawal and behavioural changes. Similarly, after a miscarriage, human mothers often experience a disorienting sense of loss that extends beyond the physical event itself. The aftermath of miscarriage can involve profound hormonal fluctuations, depression, and an enduring sense of bereavement. Recovery is complex and highly individual, with physical healing typically taking weeks, while the psychological impact can persist for months or even years, deeply affecting a woman’s identity and sense of self.

By drawing on the mourning rituals of giraffes, the animation situates miscarriage within a broader, universal framework of maternal grief, emphasising the fundamental nature of loss across species. Furthermore, the reference to Africa in the work is significant, as it alludes to the continent’s deep historical and symbolic connection to motherhood. The etymological roots of "Africa" trace back to meanings associated with “the mother of humankind,” reinforcing the continent’s place in narratives of origin, birth, and loss. Within this context, the work interrogates not only the personal and psychological dimensions of miscarriage but also its broader existential implications, inviting reflection on the intersection of biological, cultural, and emotional realities of motherhood.

Desolate Slumber: An Attempt to Trace The Tainted Bride (2010): exhibited at The Burgerblad Festival In Bloemfontein, Innibos National Festival 2016, Kknk 2015, Unisa Art Gallery 2014.

Each culture is haunted by its own ghosts—memories from an ancestral past that become embedded in the psyche of subsequent generations. These spectral remnants, whether sacred or nefarious, can never be fully remembered nor entirely forgotten. Instead, they linger in the subconscious, shaping identity, morality, and historical awareness. Desolate Slumber: An Attempt to Trace The Tainted Bride is an artistic exploration of my complex relationship with my Afrikaner heritage, wherein the ghosts of my ancestors manifest in my dreams, reminding me of the historical weight I carry.

As a member of the younger Afrikaner generation, I navigate a landscape of inherited trauma, guilt, and existential turmoil. The apartheid regime, instituted and maintained by previous Afrikaner generations, casts a long and inescapable shadow over my sense of self. While I did not partake in the systemic injustices of apartheid, I am nonetheless implicated in its legacy, a legacy that pervades the collective consciousness of my generation. The weight of historical accountability, the moral reckoning with a past fraught with oppression, and the ongoing socio-political ramifications of apartheid contribute to an identity that is fractured and deeply unsettled. The younger Afrikaner generation is burdened by a profound sense of historical guilt, yet simultaneously experiences frustration and anger toward those who orchestrated and perpetuated apartheid. We exist in a liminal space, seeking atonement for past transgressions while grappling with the limitations of our agency in redressing historical wrongs.

In Desolate Slumber: An Attempt to Trace The Tainted Bride, I confront the complexity of my Afrikaner identity and its inextricable ties to a contentious past. This artistic endeavor is not an attempt to absolve or justify, but rather to understand—to trace the lineage of my cultural inheritance and to examine the persistent, spectral presence of history in my subconscious. However, this pursuit of understanding does not yield clarity; instead, it intensifies my sense of perplexity. The ghosts of my past refuse to dissipate, residing in the darkest recesses of my memory, resurfacing with relentless persistence.

Through this work, I acknowledge that these ancestral ghosts will always be part of my existence, shaping my engagement with history, my sense of responsibility, and my artistic expression. The past is not a distant entity that can be neatly archived or exorcised; rather, it is a living force that continues to inform the present. By delving into the unsettling terrain of memory and history, I attempt to navigate the dissonance between my heritage and my moral consciousness, recognizing that this tension is, perhaps, an inescapable condition of being an Afrikaner in post-apartheid South Africa.

Contrac(p)tion (2010): exhibited at Fried Contemporary, Absa L’atelier, Innibos National Festival 2016, KKNK 2015, Unisa Art Gallery 2014.

This paper examines a stop-frame animation that explores contemporary challenges related to female fertility through symbolic transformations of the reproductive system. The animation begins with a representation of a healthy female reproductive system but gradually undergoes a metamorphosis as organic components are replaced with kitchen utensils, which in turn evolve into large, mechanical structures. The final stage of the animation portrays the collapse of these industrialised components, reflecting the increasing struggles faced by women in conceiving naturally. The work engages with the broader discourse on the impact of modern lifestyles, medical interventions, and societal pressures on female fertility.

Infertility has become an increasing concern in contemporary society, with more women experiencing difficulties in conceiving naturally. This stop-frame animation serves as a visual metaphor for the transition from natural reproduction to one increasingly mediated by technological interventions. The symbolic replacement of biological organs with household and industrial objects critiques the mechanization of female fertility and the growing dependency on assisted reproductive technologies.

The animation employs a gradual transition from an organic to a mechanical state, representing the shift from natural conception to artificial intervention. The initial depiction of the reproductive system signifies an idealized state of fertility, while the substitution of reproductive organs with kitchen utensils alludes to traditional gender roles and societal expectations surrounding female reproduction. As these utensils further evolve into large industrial components, the animation reflects the clinical and procedural nature of fertility treatments, such as in vitro fertilization (IVF), hormonal therapies, and other medical interventions.

The eventual collapse of the mechanised reproductive system symbolises the emotional and physical toll of infertility treatments. This imagery underscores the sense of disillusionment and frustration experienced by many women undergoing prolonged and often unsuccessful fertility procedures. The breakdown of the mechanical system ultimately challenges the notion that medical advancements can seamlessly replace natural biological processes without consequences.

The rising prevalence of infertility is attributed to various sociocultural and environmental factors, including delayed childbearing, increased exposure to endocrine disruptors, and lifestyle changes. Many women postpone pregnancy due to career aspirations, financial stability, or personal choices, leading to a decline in natural fertility with age. Additionally, the prevalence of conditions such as polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS), endometriosis, and unexplained infertility has necessitated increased reliance on reproductive technologies.

Despite advancements in medical science, fertility treatments are often physically, emotionally, and financially taxing. The animation critiques the notion that technology alone can resolve fertility challenges, highlighting the complexities and struggles that many women face in their reproductive journeys. By presenting the reproductive system as an increasingly artificial construct, the animation questions the efficacy and ethical implications of medical interventions in fertility.

Diaphragms (2021), exhibited at The White River Art Gallery.

-Nellrie du Venage (18 June 2021)

Lüneburg’s emotional experiences during an obligated COVID-19 period of quarantine inspired her creative production. Notwithstanding the benefits of quarantine in impeding the spread of disease, the practice is obtrusive and often leads to psychological deterioration typified by emotions such as fear, anxiety, anger, irritability, lethargy and post-traumatic stress reactions (Brooks et.al 2020:919). There exists a direct correlation between loneliness and a breakdown in mental health (Serafini et.al. 2020:530). These effects may be exacerbated during the prolonged periods of social isolation such as quarantine due to COVID-19 (Armitage & Nellums 2020:[sp]). 

A recurring theme in Lüneberg’s visual enquiry is her response to loss and traumatic memories (Lüneburg 2017:1). It engenders an “autobiographical reflexivity” whereby the artist introspects and processes through artistic application. The artist describes her recent experience of solitude and desolation as desperate and acutely traumatic (Lüneburg 2021). 

The animation work Diaphragms (2021), recollects and contemplates the agony of her encounter. Cathy Caruth (1996:7) posits that repressed memories have a rebound effect where there exists an interval between the original traumatic event and the retrieval thereof. This particular delay is responsible for its disturbing effect: “the impact of the traumatic event lies precisely in its belatedness, and in its refusal to be simply located, in its insistent appearance outside the boundaries of any single place or time”. The moving image of a living foetus reappears in Diaphragms (2021) and may be construed as the reproduction of or return to deeply tormenting memories of loss provoked by her endurance of depression. 

Diaphragms (2021) is introspective and Lüneburg employ surrealist imaging in the depiction of herself and Loekie merging and mutating into each other. The animated work narrates the way in which Loekie defends and rescues the artist from recurrent suicide attempts. Lüneburg elaborates on the treasured relationships fostered with her dogs since childhood: “Dogs have long become attuned to communication with their owners. Our dogs’ ability to read human body language and expressions, and show us empathy, have been verified by several studies. The empathy that our beloved hounds show us when we are in pain attests to that.” (Lüneburg 2021). 

Wisdom et.al. (2009:230) theorise that pets play a curative role in individuals suffering from mental illness. One research finding in particular supports enhanced self-efficiency and an expanded sense of empowerment in patients resulting from close animal relationships. The artist’s connection with her dogs indisputably sustained her during her ordeal. However, it may be argued that Loekie becomes a metaphor and conduit for the artist’s self-preservation proliferating to a state of recovery. Diaphragms (2021), a predominantly monochrome animation evokes dreamlike images of metamorphic passages and human-animal hybrids catalysing a convalescent progression to exuberant colour and restoration. 

An integral part of the exhibition is a series of twenty-eight pen and ink portrait drawings depicting the dogs who attended to Lüneburg from childhood. Kurczynski (2011:95) defines drawing as unpretentious and expressive. She advocates that drawing is as personal and individual as handwriting. Notably, Kurczynski states that drawing is aptly suited to the expression of the ephemerality of all life: “The more minimal, delicate, and ephemeral, the more poetic and evocative it is.” Lüneburg’s drawings are childlike and nostalgic, bold but sensitive. The subjects are all equal in size, gazing candidly at the viewer. A distinctive feature in all the portraits are the exaggerated eyes of the subjects. These depictions are reminiscent of the pencil and ink self-portraits of Francesco Clemente. Clemente similarly implore surrealist elements in his renditions. Furthermore, Clemente’s portrait images also convey authenticity and acceptance. 

An analysis of these images supports the argument that they may be translated not as portraits of her animal subjects but rather as self-representations of the emotionally convalescing artists. “A self-portrait is our inner image, our private image. It is generally produced in a longer lapse of time, in a situation centred on the creative process. It springs from the inner life of the author, who is also subject and spectator. He does not control the image, on the contrary, it's the creative process which allows the unconscious to speak with the language of art. The self-portrait is a profound dialog with oneself, guided by the author's vulnerability.” (www.selfportrait.eu). 

The two installation works in the exhibition may be understood as a dialogue. The first is the artist addressing her beloved dog Loekie by way of eulogy. The work consists of a single cubicle with peeping box, allowing only one viewer at a time. It is designed as a re-enactment of the isolation and solitude the artist experienced during her period of quarantine. The peeping box contains a shrine made up of the ashes of Loekie, a white ceramic house and a small sculpture and videos of Loekie. The artist is conversing with and commemorating her friend in this work. 

The other installation incorporates a shelf containing the artist’s gnawed and damaged shoes. It communicates Lüneburg’s dog Jack’s love for the artist. Indeed, Jack is the credited artist of the work (Lüneburg 2021). These artworks emphasise the reciprocal relationship between Lüneburg and her dogs. 

In Loving Memory of Loekie, and all the others (2021), delves into states of fragility and futility, expressed in the context of demarcation and loss of close relational symbiosis. It is a visceral exploration of traumatic rupture and eventual reawakening. This exhibition manifests a haunting human fragility.

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G.J. 2020. The psychological impact of quarantine and how to reduce it: rapid 

review of the evidence. Lancet 395:912–920.

Carbon, C. 2017. Universal Principles of Depicting Oneself across the Centuries: From

Renaissance Self-Portraits to Selfie-Photographs. Frontiers in Psychology. 

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https://theconversation.com/lockdown-quarantine-and-self-isolation-how-different-covid-restrictions-affect-our-mental-health-153595 (Accessed 16 June 2021).

Kurczynski, K. 2011. Drawing is the new painting. Art Journal. Spring:93-110. 

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River Gallery. (Exhibition catalogue, White River Art Gallery, White River, 29 May

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animation: a Freudian analysis. DPhil Fine Arts Thesis, University of Pretoria,

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psychological impact of COVID-19 on the mental health in the general 

population. QJM: An International Journal of Medicine 2020:529–535.

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www.selfportrait.eu (Accessed 18 June 2021).

Voyage (2006): exhibited at Fried Contemporary 2006.

This analysis explores a stop-frame animation depicting a young girl rendered in black and white with an x-ray effect, symbolising her transition into the afterlife. The visual style creates a haunting and ethereal quality, emphasising the liminality of her existence. She is surrounded by darkness, reinforcing the sense of an unknown journey beyond life. As she moves forward, she is engulfed by a beast, a representation of the consuming nature of death and the inevitable passage from one realm to another.

On her journey to the promised land, she encounters an antelope-like creature, which she attempts to kill. This interaction introduces a complex dynamic between destruction and salvation. The antelope, often associated with spiritual guidance and transcendence in various cultural mythologies, may symbolise an opportunity for redemption or transformation. The act of attempting to kill the creature suggests an internal struggle, possibly a resistance to change or an inability to accept the transition. This moment in the animation challenges the viewer to consider the duality of life and death, purity and corruption, and the nature of the soul's passage into the unknown.

The animation serves as a profound meditation on mortality and the psychological complexities of facing death. The darkness surrounding the girl conveys an existential void, while the beast's engulfment signifies the consuming power of fate. Her confrontation with the antelope-like creature may reflect an unresolved tension between her past existence and her acceptance of the afterlife. The visual language of the animation, particularly the x-ray effect, further emphasizes themes of vulnerability and exposure, portraying a raw and stripped-down representation of the human condition. Through this evocative narrative, the animation invites reflection on the inevitability of death and the uncertain nature of what lies beyond. 

Girls In a Box (2007): exhibited at KKNK 2007, Gordart 2010, Innibos National Festival 2016, Kknk 2015, Unisa Art Gallery 2014.

A stop-frame animation exploring gender-based violence unfolds through an evolving sequence of visual metaphors. The animation commences with two trees that gradually transform into the portraits of a man and a woman falling in love. This initial representation conveys an idealised vision of romance and partnership. However, as the narrative progresses, subtle yet unmistakable indications of male violence emerge in an abstract manner. The idyllic imagery of love and connection gives way to an escalating sense of unease and coercion, reflecting the insidious nature of gender-based violence.

The animation culminates in a series of symbolic transitions, where a watering can morphs into a box. This transformation suggests a shift from nourishment and growth to confinement and restriction. The watering can, traditionally associated with care and sustenance, signifies the initial hope and nurturing aspects of a relationship. However, its evolution into a box—a rigid and closed structure—denotes entrapment and the loss of freedom often experienced by survivors of domestic abuse.

Marriage entered into without full acquaintance with the partner can yield unforeseen challenges, as exemplified by personal experience. Prior to the union, manifestations of gender-based violence, encompassing physical, verbal, and psychological aggression, had already surfaced. Concurrently, the presence of four dogs accentuated the distressing atmosphere. Subsequently, a digital narrative commenced, chronicling the matrimonial commitment to the perpetrator, symbolically interspersed with glimpses of maltreatment, juxtaposed with the protective endeavors of a Swiss Shepherd Hound. Following the dissolution of the marital bond six years later, an exhibition ensued, depicting the coping mechanisms of four original canine companions alongside two newly adopted canines, as they navigated trauma and offered levity amidst an existence shrouded in trepidation and darkness.

Gender-based violence begets far-reaching repercussions, spanning mental, physical, social, and economic domains. The ensuing trauma, coupled with the stigma and psychological abuse endemic to such circumstances, can impede vocational pursuits. Furthermore, instances of sexual violence may precipitate adverse health outcomes, including sexually transmitted infections and unwanted pregnancies, culminating in unsafe abortions, societal ostracization, and psychological distress. Personal encounters with gender-based violence engendered a protracted struggle, precipitating the development of post-traumatic stress disorder. Characterised by hyper-vigilance, emotional numbing, and recurrent intrusive memories, PTSD typifies an anxiety disorder emergent from traumatic encounters. The animation serves as an evocative reflection of these experiences, offering a powerful visual exploration of the complexities and enduring impacts of gender-based violence.

Goodbye Little Miss Perfume (2007): exhibited at KKNK 2007, Gordart 2010, Innibos National Festival 2016, KKNK 2015, Unisa Art Gallery 2014.

The stop-frame animation explores the emotional and psychological dimensions of childhood imagination through the story of an imaginary friend, Little Miss Perfume.

Inspired by personal childhood memories, the animation serves as an attempt to revive the presence of this imaginary companion, who disappeared upon entering preschool. The narrative suggests a child-like imaginary world, where Little Miss Perfume functions as an alter ego, a manifestation of the child within. Through abstract symbolism, the film navigates the transition from the subconscious dreamworld of early childhood—a place of confidence, security, and innocence—to the fragmented recollections of adulthood, preserved only through old photographs, letters, and drawings.

Children often create imaginary friends as a means of navigating their early emotional and social development. These companions provide comfort, alleviate loneliness, and serve as tools for self-expression and problem-solving. The existence of imaginary friends reflects the creative and adaptive capacities of the developing mind, allowing children to explore relationships, emotions, and even aspects of their own identity in a safe, controlled environment. However, as children grow and enter structured social settings such as preschool, these imaginary companions often fade away. The increasing engagement with real-world social interactions, the cognitive shift towards external validation, and the natural maturation of imagination contribute to their gradual disappearance.

Despite their vanishing in childhood, imaginary friends leave a lasting impression on the subconscious and can resurface in adulthood through art, nostalgia, and personal reflection. The act of remembering and recreating such figures—whether through storytelling, artistic expression, or revisiting childhood artefacts—can serve as a means of reconnecting with one’s inner child. This process allows for an exploration of personal history, fostering a deeper understanding of the self and the formative experiences that shape identity. The animation thus functions not only as an attempt to revive the memory of Little Miss Perfume but also as a meditation on the nature of memory, imagination, and the enduring presence of childhood within the adult psyche.