Taju means ‘Light up’ in Swahili. This is Josiah Waiguru Gitau’s ‘nom de plume’. His middle name, Waiguru (in Kikuyu) means ‘from above’, and his names have inspired him to create art that brings brightness and happiness.
Taju came to Durban from Eldoret in Kenya in 2003. His father was the District Commissioner, and he has a brother and two sisters. Due to the unrest in the 2007 Kenyan elections his family now lives in Nairobi.
“My mother was a huge inspiration. She has many talents ranging from sewing, to carving, sketching and painting,” he told me while I disturbed one of his weekly classes he holds in Umhlanga. His cousin, Wakaba Mutheki, a recognised artist himself who lives in Johannesburg, persuaded Taju to come to South Africa to make a name for himself.
“When I was a struggling artist I met Judy Wentzel at her gallery in Durban North,” he said. “She recognised my potential and encouraged me to use bold, vibrant colours. Things started turning around for me, and I sold a few paintings, thanks to her.”
Taju worked with Kizo Gallery for five years and when they approached him to participate in the 2010 Fine Art Collection for the FIFA World Cup with 160 other African artists (including our own Ian van Zyl) he jumped at the opportunity.
He was quoted as saying: “It was a really big opportunity for African artists like myself ‒ and a really great thing that this company found a way to use the World Cup to benefit African art. For years we heard how massive an opportunity the World Cup would be, not just for South Africa but for all of Africa — we were happy to be part of a project that is making that a reality.”
Sadly Taju, and many of the other artists still await remuneration for their contributions, including Isaac Sithole who sadly passed away recently.
But negativity and unhappiness are not a part of his trademark.
“I enjoy realism, abstracts and my own style that I have called fragmentation,” he carried on in a lighter note. “Since coming here I have experienced huge growth. I love finding humour in art. I paint cows with one eye, long curved horns and huge udders, inspired by my feelings towards women whose strength, capabilities and tactics in handling life’s situations amazes me. The long thin horns show that women are not meant to fight physically; the one eye means that they look after each other and the thin long legs depict the lack of stability in a relationship.”
He also paints fish, which reflect freedom of movement, with their happy, soft colours. And his delightful chickens convey his sense of humour. “They have been described as martini glasses. I don’t know why?” Ummm….maybe because like look like a cheerful glass of martini?
During all this, his patient student, Maret Hopwood, tried to finish her painting of deckchairs on a beach.
“I am a wrinkly of note” she confessed, threatening me with death if I disclosed her age (65). “I won’t be able to play golf forever and, as I take beautiful pictures with my camera, I thought I would be able to paint as well.”
After a month’s lessons with Taju she has produced some amazing art, including a 1m x 0.5m on canvas of the famous Umhlanga Lighthouse.
“Taju loves texture, so the rocks, sea and beach have been highlighted with texture paint and acrylic and we added fine sand which we painted over for the beach. My grandchildren couldn’t believe that I had actually created this – OK, Taju did help me!” confessed Maret.
And speaking of grandchildren, Taju also holds classes for kids.
“I teach them how to master the brush, and to use colours and shapes. We do very abstract work, but concentration is the starting point. It’s the key to good art. I also believe that everyone is unique, and although I teach I don’t interfere with their style,” said Taju.
Taju is a name to look out for. He has exhibited in Art in the Park, held private shows at Kizo and in 2009 exhibited in the Cape Town Exhibition Centre.
So, Taju, Karibu (welcome) to South Africa and we wish you all the success you deserve. Bring us happiness and bright colours!
Contact Taju on 078 002 4452 or taph75@gmail.com
Story by Lois Kuhle