“I’m a genderqueer mindfuck for most people.”-Umlilo.
Photo: Fiona Macpherson.
Umlilo aka Kwaai Diva
Musician / Performance Artist / Activist
Pronouns: She / Her
I was born in Johannesburg in the 1980s after the State of Emergency. I come from quite a big family, and we all lived together in the East Rand so my childhood was pretty cool. I lived with my gran and cousins. My family seemed to be very supportive of my identity when I was a kid; I was allowed to play with dolls and toys that little boys typically do not play with. I was always interested in music, dance and theatre. My family was involved in the production of Sarafina at the time, and I landed a role as “Jabu” in the film starring Whoopi Goldberg and Lelethi Khumalo. It was a crazy experience for a child meeting all these stars and being surrounded by artists. I really absorbed a lot from that experience and it sparked my love for the performing arts at an early age. My father passed away the following year after the movie came out and it was the first time I saw the devastation in my family, which decades later, became even more intense with several of my family members passing away.
School can often be traumatic for young queer people- what was your experience like?
School was really tough for me. From as long as I remember, I never enjoyed the experience of other kids. I was always called names, bullied and felt alone a lot of the time. I really started getting a sense that I was different from other kids and had a hard time adjusting to school life. I always thought I’d be better off at an art school, but my parents insisted on a “normal” school. By the time I reached high school, I managed to somehow carve out an identity for myself. I was always a pioneer having come out at 16 when most of my peers were still figuring out their sexuality.
This was a gift and a curse because, while my confidence grew as a person, I was targeted for bullying and had to have really thick skin during that time. I lost friends, people didn’t quite understand me and I think I really found my kin when I reached varsity.
Can you recall when you started becoming aware of being “othered”?
From a young age I had been “othered”: I have never been and never will be like an average person so I stood out quite a lot. I was very effeminate growing up, which made me vulnerable to bullying and abuse mostly from other kids. From as far as I can remember I was always a target for rude comments and discrimination because of being a very effeminate child. There was a time when I thought perhaps I was born in the wrong body and I definitely had suicidal thoughts and suffered a lot of depression from it. I’d say I was depressed pretty much my whole school career.
“I have never been and never will be like an average person so I stood out quite a lot.”
Umlilo performing at the 2019 Smoking Dragon Festival.
Photo: Alastair Mclachlan / IG: @intermission
What was the transition from teenager to young adult like for you?
I felt like I had already found myself by the time I went to university. I couldn’t wait to express myself and do what I love and meet like-minded people and it happened just like that. I really think university solidified everything I knew about myself, my drive, my career, my friends. My outlook on life was shaped by being at Rhodes University in Grahamstown. It was a very big risk to study in a small town when you’re from a big city, but I found it really enlightening and helped trim any excess baggage I was carrying around. I think I was advanced in many ways in terms of identity because I watched my friends and close acquaintances go through the experiences I had gone through in high school when it comes to figuring out their identity and I’m glad I could be there for them as well.
What would you say are some of the key lessons you learnt from your drama and journalism studies?
I think I really learnt more about life philosophy and how to apply it to your career. I learned about ideology and creation. I really feel like I developed a sense of my own unique identity and perspective and could it apply it to everything I do. I honed in on my natural ability to perform in front of an audience, to write thoughtfully and critically, and also to be able to produce a piece of work from start to finish. I was a bit of an overachiever, and did everything I could from the theatre, radio, newspapers and television, dance, amongst other things. I learned how to multi-task a lot, which is why I think it made me a dynamic person in the end.
When would you say the idea to venture into music started brewing? Was there anything/anyone that prompted you?
From a young age I was always musical in one way or another. I was in the choir at church, I had started my first group at 12 years old, and in school I was always acting in some kind of musical theatre. Music was always there, but I never really considered it as a career. Even though I had been writing songs since my early teens, it was always for fun. In varsity, I really started enjoying learning production and I used to sneak into the radio station in the early hours of the morning and record demos. That’s when my interest in music took a turn. I never stopped and kept on improving my craft until a point where I could share it with the world. It was when I moved to Cape Town that my music interest took a more professional turn. I was frustrated with my media job when I recorded my first EP and it fuelled my pursuit of a music career big time. I didn’t have a long term vision at the time, but I felt like I had such great support around me from my friends and peers and that pushed me further. Cape Town is small but the creative community is big, the queer community is also very present and when you work as a community I think you achieve more.
Photo: Stewart Innes
Your first incarnation as a performer was as Siya Is Your Anarchist- is it safe to say that disruption and rebellion are important foundations for you as a queer artist?
Yeah, of course, I can’t imagine my life without chaos, disruption and rebellion. I’m a product of a long line of ancestry that was proud and hated injustice, so it comes naturally for me to not accept things as they are. To top it off, I’m a genderqueer mindfuck for most people so I’ve had to fight ten times harder to achieve the things that I have because of the colour of my skin, my background, my sexual orientation and gender. I live in a country where the law is meant to protect LGBTI but they don’t. We are by ourselves so we have to fight for each other. Siya Is Your Anarchist was a form of expression around a post-apocalyptic idea. It came from frustration that no matter how you try to play by the rules, you still get burned by the system. No matter how educated or well-spoken or talented you are, the world will still treat you like a second-class citizen based purely on things you cannot change like race, gender, and sexuality. S.I.Y.A was a big zap sign to the system that failed our generation in South Africa.
You soon evolved into Umlilo and released your debut EP, Shades of Kwaai, in 2013. What’s your creative process?
Umlilo was the necessary evolution for me as an artist. I simply outgrew the S.I.Y.A phase of my life because it was so specific and experimental sonically. I had more to say, I had grown a lot as a performer and Umlilo was the alter ego I would be destined to carve out. The process was very DIY. At that time I was producing, recording, mixing, mastering, costuming, make-up everything was done by me and with the help of my friends. It started with a few songs that I released and I entered some competitions to push me further and I was really hungry to break into the music industry at the time. The creative process was a lot more organic, natural and intuitive. I didn’t overthink things like now: I used to write a song, record it, mix it, master it and release it, which is why I manage to release two EPs back to back with a full visual treatment. It was just fun and pure.
Many artists struggle with self-doubt and imposter syndrome- what would you say to an artist who is trying to find the confidence to create?
I think it's important to remember that no one is born a star. Stars are made and in order to be really good at what you do, you have to learn and educate yourself on the subject you are tackling. I spend a lot of time learning everything that I’m interested in and I can see the improvement and the confidence that builds. If you do not educate yourself to become who you want to be, you will always feel like an imposter because you wouldn’t have done the work.
“I can’t imagine my life without chaos, disruption and rebellion.”
Your music and aesthetic are unapologetically queer and fierce. What would you say the response to you has been in South Africa versus some of the international countries you’ve toured across?
I think South Africa was never ready for me and still isn’t. I get a lot of support from the queer community, in general, and I guess that’s what keeps me going. I do not desire fame and recognition that so many people seek. I’m an artist, whether people listen or not, I’ll still be making music. With that said, I’ve had such great support internationally. My songs were always being played in other countries than in South Africa and it speaks volumes to the conservative nature of South Africa. Yes we’ve come a long way but we are still so far behind other countries when it comes to embracing alternative identities.
Official music video for Umlilo's 'Out of My Face' directed by Tlhonepho Thobejane is the third single off of Umlilo's 'Shades of Kwaai' EP.
Many people might not know that you write and produce most of your material, and do most of your styling. You are essentially a self-sufficient artist- how did that develop?
I think that developed out of necessity and being a control freak. I like things done a certain way and that’s why my collabs have always been with people that get it. I do feel that when you want things done properly you should do them yourself. I’ve been so disappointed throughout my career by people promising you dreams and it made me quickly realise that I’m the only one responsible for making my dreams and visions come true so why not do that for myself. I also think black people and queers are so resourceful and we can make anything look fabulous, it does feel like a true gift from Mother Nature because it comes so naturally, no wonder so many people steal our ideas and appropriate our culture. We’ve learned from centuries of exploitation
It’s not uncommon for artists to feel stuck and uninspired- what’s your advice for an up-and-coming queer creators and/or performers?
I think up-and-coming queer performers shouldn’t give up if that’s the career path they want. Music and the arts are not for the faint-hearted and it's a cycle of rejection and mental resilience. Always improve your craft and never give up.
You also don’t shy away from making socio-political commentary in your music. In an interview with Vice, you said your track Chain Gang was “born out of frustration. Can you elaborate?
Chain Gang was inspired by the chained slaves and prisoners who would sing spiritual hymns in America to pass time as they toiled working the fields and other hard labour. I really related to that because my grandparents worked very difficult jobs to provide for my family and lived through apartheid. It sparked this idea of a modern chain gang, a bling ring, so to speak, where they had to stick together even though somewhat superficially in order to fight against the system.
Official music video for Umlilo's 'Chain Gang' directed by Katey Carson. This is the second single off of Umlilo's Aluta' EP.
The song addressed the senseless murders we experience in the queer and black communities. The song is about death and rebirth in a way, which is why I was in a coffin in the music video. It shows how resilient we are as human beings that we can suffer so much and still survive. It feels so relevant even now more than ever because we see that the world hasn’t changed and that those systems that oppressed my grandparents are still operating at the maximum level, if not worse.
That video also features you as Karl Lagerfeld- what was the thinking behind that?
We wanted to make a fashion film around the funeral of a powerful femme gang leader. It was important that we showcase the fashion of it all so Vogue was the Bible and Karl was the Pope of fashion in the video. I wanted to have this iconography in a South African context because we’ve never seen anything like it ever before and ever since then. And by having this fashion element, we were able to bring viewers into the larger message of resilience, oppression, superficiality and so many other things.
Umlilo as Karl Lagerfeld in ‘Chain Gang’ (2014).
Queer culture- particularly Black queer culture- is responsible for so much of what we know and love about pop culture, but it doesn’t get the mainstream credit. What are your thoughts on that?
I’m so used to it by now. As Lil Kim says, “Cats take my ideas and put their name on it, it’s alright though, they can’t hold me down, I got to keep on moving”. Obviously, it’s sad to see how many queers and people of colour die poor while society took their ideas and monetised them. What people don’t understand is that there’s a whole spiritual ancestral realm in our psyche that keeps us going. It’s the knowledge of the fact that we have existed since the beginning of time and will always exist whether we are oppressed or discriminated against or credited for our contribution. It will never stop. For me now, everything is about ownership. I registered my own company, record label, I manage my image, finance, styling, work and everything in between. We have to fight for our rights to own our art and make a living from it. That’s one of the key generational losses we have had, not owning land, or resources to keep us moving forward so now is the time to reclaim all of that individually and collectively so that our lives are no longer in the hands of our oppressors and abusers.
Umlilo in their music video 'Umzabalazo' produced by ALV Corp and directed by Odendaal Esterhuyse.
Many artists- some of whom aren’t necessarily very talented- seem to get more opportunities based on their “marketability”, which usually means they are white and/or straight. What are some of the barriers you deal with as a Black genderqueer artist?
I’ve come to get used to the tokenism aspect of the industry I am in. People like something easy and relatable, especially lazy record labels and festivals etc. They don’t want to rock the boat, and that’s fine. I don’t get offended by it anymore because I’m securely in my lane and realised I have to carve out my own journey and break barriers. So many artists before me went through the same thing and so many after me will as well. I no longer ask to be a part of any mainstream project, I do my own projects with like-minded people. I can’t stand the culture of begging and waiting to be seen when we have so many resources to do it ourselves. Why appeal to an audience that you have to convince? I would rather speak to the people that get it and grow that audience rather than break into a mainstream audience that will try to change me at every chance. There are more than enough communities that accept you for who you are, focus on those people rather and the rest will follow.
“Why appeal to an audience that you have to convince? I would rather speak to the people that get it and grow that audience...”
How do you envision Umlilo’s legacy?
It’s weird I feel like I’ve gone from student, to rookie, to pioneer and activist and now I feel like I’m everything at once. The promise I have made to myself is that I cannot die poor or suffer like my grandparents and parents did. I cannot let that happen to my community and so this new era in my life is really exploring how we create independent business-minded queers who have a strong social consciousness and drive for change. As a socially conscious diva, I’m working on how to create socially conscious art that uplifts but also tied to social reform projects and collaborations. I believe it drives massive change. If we all realise that my freedom is your freedom then we can work together to create the world we want to see. If I can achieve that, that’s a legacy I wouldn’t mind leaving behind.
Photo: Nina Bekink
