What's your stance?
An exploration of the stance scene in the Eastern Cape, South Africa.
Grey, misty and late. That’s how the morning of 27 September started. I should’ve known though. Ronald, Rods and okay me included, have a problem leaving when we say we will. 10am was the time we agreed on. It was now 12pm and eventually the gold and red striped Golf pulled away for the road that usually takes me between my two homes, Grahamstown and Cape Town. Still not quite prepared for the day that lay ahead, my head runs through the possibilities of the different mediums I could use. Film. Photo. Audio. I know I want to film it but I want photos too. Also, audio of the cars would be cool. “Ah, Rob. You should’ve planned way better”, I say to myself. This is my only shot at an event for stance. Can’t mess this up. Can’t mess this up. Can’t mess this up, is what I keep telling myself. Meg looks over to me and with a furrowed brow and the creased forehead that comes along with it asks, “What are you mumbling?”. “Ah, nothing I respond. I just want to get there already.” There, by the way, is the Scribante Race track just before Port Elizabeth (P.E) . P.E I’ve recently learnt is also known as “Slam City”.
So eventually we get there and there are three cars ahead of us. On our right, a couple of cars are gathered. All low. I have a flashback to Mainstream’s park-off at NMMU that I went to a few weeks ago. At the park-off people were pushing cars over speed bumps because they were too low to manage on their own. My mind is pulled back here when I glance over and see the lowest car I have ever seen. It looks like the ground is now elevated and there is a turquoise mass joined to it. Okay, that description is a bit clumsy. What I mean is, the car is just ridiculously low. It looks like it’s scraping the ground while being completely stationary. Turquoise in colour and when you look at it head on, the number plate is placed on the far right. A guy closes the door and walks to the car ahead of us. Just before he reaches the car, I make out that he’s wearing a grey hoodie with blue print that reads Mainstream. Another guy approaches our car. Ronald’s window is already open at this point. Another Mainstream hoodie. While scanning as far as being in a car will let me, I think to myself, how cool are these Mainstream kids? Everyone knows once you have hoodies you are legit. We are four people in the car so we have to pay R40 and keep moving because people have started to queue behind us.
Driving on we first go through a short tunnel-like passage. After this it’s just people and cars. More people. More cars. Even young kids running around with their families close by watching. Oh my goodness! And there are white people here too. What is going on? I obviously wrongly assumed that this scene appealed only to coloured people between the ages of 18-30 but there are lots of different types of people here. People showing off their cars, folks checking out the cars, parents who've brought their kids to have a chilled Staurday afternoon, those first teenage meet ups. Despite the weather, everyone just seems to be having a fun time. Look at that, I think to myself, Wonder Slam bringing low cars, hoodies and eye openers.
We decide to park opposite what looks like the sound- off part of the event. Meg helps me take the equipment over. While setting up, I try to be as subtle as one can with a Panasonic P2 and the biggest tripod on earth, so as not to disrupt the natural unfolding of this sound- off. So, not subtle at all then, but, for the most part people are too engrossed, myself included, by the cars that pull up. Who would’ve thought that one’s fate could be tied into the db’s that measured the bass in your car?
The day goes by quicker than what I expected and I realise I need to get shots of another part of this event. Where is the limbo? Where are the scraping cars? We make our way over to the limbo and that mist of earlier now turns into rain. Most of the spectators are huddled inside a garage, a couple of metres away from the limbo. I look across from the garage, where I now am too, and cars are literally going under a pole, in imitation of the limbo dance. Of course I cannot remain under this shelter, I need a different angle for more shots. Luckily after a couple of minutes the rain subsides quite a bit and before I rush over to get those close ups, a man offers me a Shoprite bag to put over the camera. I couldn’t help but laugh a bit over my “thank you”. Seriously though, people are so accommodating to me and the equipment. Always making room for me. Tapping people and motioning them to move aside when they hadn’t noticed I had a camera.
What I enjoyed most about today, is that, in a way, I am immersing myself into a subculture, a culture even close friends of mine are a part of. A culture I hadn’t thought of exploring before. I love seeing passion and that’s what I saw at Wonder Slam. Passion infused with self-expression. This is my final conscious thought about the project as we head back on that “homebound road”. My eyes close but I still see and hear the cars and the people moving passed me.
"It looks like it’s scraping the ground while being completely stationary."
"Look at that, I think to myself, Wonder Slam bringing low cars, hoodies and eye openers. "
