A.M.t.t. (1995–1998) 

A.M.t.t., an ephemeral yet conceptually rich art movement active between 1995 and 1998, offers a compelling exploration of post-apartheid South Africa’s psychological and social terrain. Founded by artists Michael Matthews and Gavin Anderson, A.M.t.t. emerged in the immediate aftermath of democratic transition—a time when the euphoria of liberation began to give way to a more complex reality marked by surveillance, suspicion, and a pervasive sense of mistrust. Through a series of video performances, live actions, and artifact creation, the group developed a unique aesthetic language that straddled performance art, installation, and conceptual critique.

Contextual Depth and Conceptual Intent

At the core of A.M.t.t.’s practice is a meditation on the dissonance between political promise and lived experience in post-apartheid South Africa. Their work does not merely document this shift; it enacts it through layered, performative gestures that evoke both the trauma and absurdity of transition. The name itself—A.M.t.t.—suggests ambiguity or a coded message, perhaps alluding to the opacity and uncertainty that characterised the era. This tension is embodied in their performances, which oscillate between visibility and concealment, participation and alienation.

The group's early work, 'Rise' (1995), performed on Church Street in Pietermaritzburg, marks a significant beginning. By colonizing a disused government building opposite the Tatham Art Gallery, they symbolically reclaimed institutional space while critiquing its legacy. The use of a television projecting black-and-white stroboscopic imagery into the street created a liminal zone where public and private, past and present, collided. Sound played a crucial role here—public broadcast recordings interwoven with percussion and electric guitar produced a sonic landscape that was at once familiar and disorienting, evoking both memory and unease.

Performative Strategy and Medium

The triptych 'Curio', 'Ricochet', and 'Restricted' (1996) at the Tatham Art Gallery represents the group’s most fully realised conceptual framework. By sectioning off the performance space with curtain walls and limiting audience access to monitor views, A.M.t.t. created a deliberate distance between performer and viewer, mirroring the growing alienation felt in society. This distancing also heightened the voyeuristic nature of viewing, implicating the audience in the very surveillance culture the artists were critiquing.

In 'Curio', the focus on hands crafting objects from detritus suggests a commentary on creativity born out of waste—both literal and metaphorical. The curios, made from discarded materials, become artifacts of a society in flux, pointing to the remnants of apartheid and the fragile construction of new identities. In 'Ricochet', the scale increases, as do the gestures of collaboration. Here, the artists working simultaneously on shared objects suggest a tentative hope for collective rebuilding, even as the obscured bodies behind the curtain hint at unresolved tensions. 'Restricted' pushes this metaphor further. The act of painting themselves into a box using glyphic symbolism becomes a powerful allegory for entrapment—whether by history, identity, or societal expectation. The box may be read as both coffin and canvas, a site of self-erasure and symbolic rebirth. The accompanying soundtracks throughout these performances serve not just as atmospheric elements but as narrative devices that deepen the emotional resonance of the visual.

Expansion and Audience Engagement

The Grahamstown Festival performance in 1997 marked a pivotal evolution in A.M.t.t.'s practice. By exhibiting previously created artifacts and inviting the audience into the performance space, the group blurred the boundaries between object, action, and viewer. This participatory dimension allowed for a more immersive experience, reflecting a broader cultural shift toward inclusivity and dialogue. Yet, the continued use of found materials and transient forms maintained a critical edge—an acknowledgment that any reconstruction was inherently provisional.

Final Performance: Buss Bar (1998)

The final performance at Buss Bar nightclub signified a return to the raw energy of 'Rise'. Incorporating traditional instruments and handmade artifacts known as “Trandles,” the artists reconnected with the performative, almost ritualistic aspect of their earlier work. The nightclub setting—a space of leisure and escape—contrasted sharply with the heavy themes of their art, creating a jarring juxtaposition that underscored the contradictions of post-democratic life. Here, A.M.t.t. seemed to ask: "how can one reconcile celebration with mourning, joy with vigilance?"

Critical Assessment

A.M.t.t. occupies a unique position within South African contemporary art. Their work resists easy categorization, blending performance, installation, and conceptual critique in ways that are both formally innovative and politically resonant. While some might argue that the obscurity of their process limited accessibility, it is precisely this ambiguity that allows for multiple interpretations and sustained reflection.

Their use of media—particularly the manipulation of video and sound—was ahead of its time, anticipating later trends in immersive and mixed-media art. Moreover, their emphasis on impermanence and ephemerality aligns them with global discourses around postmodernism and anti-monumentality.

However, the brevity of the group’s activity—just three years—leaves one wondering what further developments might have occurred had they continued. Their dissolution coincides with a broader disillusionment in South Africa, suggesting that perhaps their work was not only reflective of but also responsive to the shifting mood of the nation. A.M.t.t. remains a poignant example of how art can articulate the ineffable—the unspoken anxieties and contradictions of a society in transition. Through a rigorous fusion of form and content, Matthews and Anderson crafted a body of work that continues to resonate in an era still grappling with the legacies of colonialism and the complexities of freedom. Their performances, though ephemeral, leave behind a durable critique: that in the shadow of democracy, surveillance and suspicion often replace the very oppression it sought to overcome.