The first thing that hits him is the smell.

In Ethiopia’s Erta Ale, the air tastes of sulphur and dust, hot and metallic on the tongue. Further along the Rift’s wandering spine, he is breathing something entirely different. In Virunga’s rainforest the humidity feels granular, heavy with decay and life. “You can smell the mould going into your nostrils,” Shem Compion says. Across this sweep of land the ground rises and falls in basalt domes, lakes and escarpments, a 6 400-kilometre fracture that has become one of the richest corridors of life on Earth.

For 20 years the South African naturalist-photographer has followed that great geological tear from Ethiopia to Mozambique. His new book, The Rift – Scar of Africa, is the result; a visual atlas of a geography that never stands still. Much of this time has been spent with people who travel alongside him on photographic safari, learning how to read Africa’s wild spaces through the same patient, image-led discipline that shapes his work. Every expedition over the years has deepened his understanding of this ancient living continuum, a reminder that this landscape is defined not by spectacle but by complexity.

It began as a detour. Seven years ago, I stopped in Rosendal for lunch on my way to Lesotho, a brief pause on a long drive. Yet something about this small Free State town pressed itself into memory. The single tarred street. The sandstone houses holding the day’s warmth. The way strangers spoke as though they already knew you. I left, but the place stayed with me. Quiet, persistent, unresolved.

This year, I went back. Not for a stopover, but to stay; to listen again to what Rosendal had whispered the first time.


Arrive in Rosendal — Friday, 16h00

The drive from Johannesburg unwinds easily. Golden grasslands, towering silos, the horizon shifting in slow rhythm. When I reached The Black Swan, its dark-painted walls caught the afternoon light like a quiet greeting. Inside, open-plan spaces flowed into one another, anchored by a wood-burning stove that promised warmth against the cool Free State breeze. I dropped my bags, took a slow breath of the stillness and stepped back outside, drawn by the promise of the fading light.

David Kramer\'s latest offering is a story of music defying empire; songs born in bondage becoming voices that crossed oceans.

When the steamship carrying Orpheus McAdoo and his Virginia Jubilee Singers docked in Cape Town in 1890, few could have imagined the sensation about to unfold. Their harmonies, born from songs once sung in captivity, would soon echo across the territories of the southern continent that would one day be called South Africa. The music they carried, drawn from grief and grace, found resonance wherever it travelled.

That journey, musical and historical, is reimagined in David Kramer’s production Orpheus McAdoo, returning to the Artscape Theatre from October 21 to November 2. Building on earlier stagings, including Orpheus in Africa in 2015, this version again marries Kramer’s fascination with hidden histories to the musical power of Cape Town Opera, merging past and present in a single voice.

When machines dream, Johannesburg\'s new Roger Ballen Centre for Photography asks: what is creativity now?

Johannesburg has always been a city of contradictions. Built on extraction yet powered by reinvention, it carries fracture and resilience in the same breath. The recently opened Roger Ballen Centre for Photography, with its clean lines and quiet light, enters this charged landscape as a dedicated space for the medium. And it begins not with comfort, but with provocation.

The debut exhibition, PSYCHOPOMP!, curated by Berlin-based artist and theorist Boris Eldagsen, unsettles from the first step inside. The images are jarring; less display than confrontation. What does it mean for a cultural space to begin with AI and the unconscious as its first subject? And what does it mean for Johannesburg, and for Africa, to step directly into the global argument about authorship, authenticity and the future of seeing?

Eldagsen is no stranger to disruption. In 2023 he declined the Sony World Photography Award after submitting an AI-generated image, sparking debate across the art world. If a machine can conjure an image from text, what remains distinctly photographic? Where does authorship reside: artist, algorithm or data set?

I arrive in Istanbul just before midnight. The city is very much awake. My taxi surges through ancient streets, the air thick with contradiction. The sweet warmth of roasted chestnuts mingles with the sharp, unexpected tang of cigarette smoke. At a traffic light, the smell drifts in through my open window — burning tobacco a long-forgotten scent that catches me off guard. Snippets of conversation in a language I don’t understand linger on pavements - pavements I long to explore. Neon signs pulse above kebab stands and domed silhouettes. Istanbul, it seems, doesn’t sleep.

I drop my bags at a modest hotel in Sultanahmet. But the hour, late as it is, doesn’t deter me. It feels like a beginning. I grab my cameras and step back into the night, pulled by the current of this unfamiliar city.

After a few restless hours of sleep, I find myself on the Bosphorus waterfront in Ortaköy, the sky still clinging to night. The Büyük Mecidiye Mosque rises in quiet splendour, framed by the arc of the Bosphorus Bridge. Its creamy façade catches the first light.

I cradle a cup of tea from a street vendor and watch the slow, golden unfurling. The tension between architecture and water, devotion and daily life, is unmistakable. Even in stillness, Istanbul stirs.

Joseph takes on a proudly SA flair, with Dylan Janse van Rensburg embodying youthful energy and a bold new era for local musical theatre.

When Dylan Janse van Rensburg steps onto the stage as Joseph, the first notes of Any Dream Will Do never feel routine. The theatre falls into darkness, a drumbeat begins and the lights rise slowly. In that silence, he feels the audience holding its breath. Then, as he takes his first line, “I close my eyes”, he hears them exhale, sharing the moment. “It’s like we’re breathing together before the story even begins,” he says.

For Janse van Rensburg, the role is steeped in history. He first wore the technicolor dreamcoat at 16 in a school production, thinking that would be his farewell to the part. His mother has previously performed in the musical too, playing Benjamin. “It’s always been close to my heart,” he reflects. Now, at 22, he’s stepped into a dream that once felt impossibly distant, leading a new SA staging that pulses with energy, wit and youthful confidence.

Johannesburg has never been a city that waits politely. It interrupts, insists and delights in the unscripted. This August, that restless character becomes the very design of Contra.Joburg, a festival where the unexpected is not an accident, but the point.

Returning for its fourth year on 30-31 August 2025, Contra.Joburg gathers more that 170 artists, designers and makers across twelve venues in the CBD. Yet to describe it simply as a weekend of exhibitions doesn’t capture the essence. Contra is less about entering galleries than about stepping into the city’s pulse.

Inside the Festival’s Rhythm

The festival unfolds across a rich tapestry of working studios and unconventional venues – August House, Ellis House, Bag Factory, Victoria Yards and more. These are not spaces smoothed into anonymity; they are alive with the things and character of artistic labour. Brushes left waiting on a windowsill, canvases leaning against walls, conversations mid-thought; it’s art encountered in the act of becoming.

In this bustling city, Ryan Enslin discovers spaces across Joburg that offer a refreshing pause, and a glimpse into the soul of a place that values stories.

Joburg is an interesting place, one that incessantly demands you look a little deeper (often a lot deeper) to find the truly remarkable things that give our city its character. We have no mountain by which to navigate her vast street network, nor do we have jaw-dropping seascapes around every corner to take our breath away. Although, the infamous Joburg pothole has, all too often, taken my breath away.

Driven by an enduring curiosity to better understand the place I call home, I recently stumbled upon something rather special. Amid the bustle of this always-evolving, migrant-esque city lies an unexpected treasure trove: Joburg’s independent bookshops.

The beloved classic at The Teatro is a dazzling production of stellar performances, breathtaking sets and a fresh faithful retelling.

The Teatro at Montecasino recently came alive with Edwardian charm and an exuberant spirit as the latest Pieter Toerien and Cape Town Opera collaboration, My Fair Lady, was brought to a Johannesburg audience. Having enjoyed a much-celebrated run in Cape Town in December, it is now time for Johannesburg audiences to be wowed. Guided by director Steven Stead, an exceptional cast worked tirelessly to bring the much-loved classic tale to life. Stage-commanding performances were delivered by a stellar cast which included Craig Urbani, Leah Mari and Graham Hopkins.

Urbani brings the formidable character of Henry Higgins to life with dry wit, occasional impatience and a touch of warmth, expertly steering Higgins away from caricature. In so doing, he delivers a multifaceted and textured performance of the Edwardian Higgins. Mari is phenomenal as Eliza Doolittle, a role she made her own with a layered performance.

Ryan Enslin steps into a world where cocktails are inspired by nature, art and music; a place where a Tokyo-born artist and mixologist is transforming the Cape Town bar scene, there along Loop Street.

Sometimes it takes seeing your country through someone else’s eyes to realise how rich it is in opportunities. This is what I experienced recently when I met artist, creative and mixologist-extraordinaire, Tetsuo Hasegawa, owner of Anthm Cocktail Bar and Restaurant on Loop Street in Cape Town. This new kid on the block is turning heads with artisanal craft cocktails and tantalising small plates.

Tetsuo attended a local art high school in Tokyo where art became his passion, all the while dreaming about his music idols across the ocean in New York. After completing his schooling, Tetsuo moved to New York, where he began bartending and continued to make art, eventually counting over 30 shows to his credit. Driven by a desire to build a community infused with his creative spirit, Tetsuo soon began to conceptualise his bar.

An immersive fusion of nature, art and culinary innovation at Terrarium restaurant.

I first met Chef Chris Erasmus two years ago in the Waterberg while on an early morning game drive. Seated on a game viewer, we rounded a kink in a dusty road and crossed a dry riverbed, only to reveal Chef Chris standing at a skottle braai preparing our breakfast. Then, in early autumn of this year, I met the legendary chef on the back slopes of Table Mountain as we went foraging for, amongst other treasures, slippery jacks and pine ring mushrooms. Last week, as this strange journey called life would have it, Chef Chris popped up in the heart of the V&A Waterfront at the five-star Queen Victoria Hotel, at his latest culinary venture, Terrarium.

If the name Chef Chris Erasmus rings a bell, it’s most probably Foliage, once to be found in Franschhoek, vying for attention from your collection of incredible-places-to-eat list. “We were almost in the forest there, up at the end of the street near the monument. It was a place where I could go foraging for ingredients,” shares Chef Chris with me as we catch up at the bar in the Queen Victoria Hotel. Foraging and naturally sourced ingredients are his passions.

The Mzansi National Philharmonic Orchestra’s recent national tour wasn’t just about electrifying performances and packed venues, as Ryan Enslin found out, it was also a masterclass in collaboration and craftsmanship, creating connections that resonated far beyond the music, uniting artistry with community impact.

Last week Wednesday saw the Mzansi National Philharmonic Orchestra, under the baton of world-renowned Ukrainian maestro Kiril Karabits, conclude a three-city national tour, entitled Rhythms of Hope, with a sellout performance at the Cape Town City Hall. The tour also sold out in Johannesburg and performed in Bloemfontein. And while taking in Capetonian pianist Leo Gevisser performing Gershwin’s iconic Rhapsody in Blue is a must for any classical music aficionado, a key initiative of the tour was in fact taking place off stage, and in the days leading up to each of the performances.

Internationally respected master-luthier (maker and repairer of stringed instruments) Antoine Gourdon, accompanied by colleagues Matilde Baulin and Alina Ehret, embarked upon a live violin build at each location.

The Unexpected City is a provocation, an exploration, a moment to consider Johannesburg beyond its usual definitions and lacklustre colloquialisms.

Johannesburg, a city of contradictions — vibrant yet volatile, hopeful yet hardened. Its 139-year history has seen it reinvent itself many times. Today the city exists in layers. Some are visible, others hidden beneath its cracked pavements and once-gold-rich soils.

Later this week art will become the latest lens through which the city is considered and interrogated, as a programme of immersive performances and installations is scheduled at The Centre For The Less Good Idea.

From March 27-29, Johannesburg takes centre stage in Collation 3 The Unexpected City, the latest iteration of The Centre’s performance series, curated by The Centre’s Impresario, Neo Muyanga. It’s an open invitation to all to see the city anew.