As is tradition on the second day of January, Cape Town is packed with throngs of people, young and old, marching along the streets to the blare of trumpets and the beat of drums. Dancers, drum majors, and musicians make their way from District 6, through the city centre and into the Bo Kaap, each troupe bedecked in co-ordinating multihued, sequinned, and feathered costumes. This is South Africa’s Tweede Nuwe Jaar (‘Second New Year’), an annual parade during which Cape coloured South Africans participate in a decades-old tradition that honours their ancestors’ fight against slavery. Under colonial rule, people were brought to South Africa and enslaved. Each year, they were allowed one day off – the day after New Year’s. The community would celebrate their brief freedom by dancing and singing, as well as painting their faces white to mock their slave masters, who in turn would not recognise them behind the paint. In recent years, the parade known as the Coon Carnival or Kaapse Klopse sees troupes of over a thousand members honour this part of their history.
Ardiel Adams has been participating since he was a teenager, having grown up among traditional Cape Malay choirs. Today, he’s part of D6 Raw Entertainers – a troupe of hundreds of close friends and family members. While tourists from all over the world make their way to Cape Town to witness this joyous spectacle, this is more than just a form of entertainment for Ardiel and the thousands of other minstrels. “It's very important to keep this tradition of ours alive,” he says. “If we lose this, if we lose our identity, then we lose everything.” Over the decades, Ardiel has seen performers, outfits, and musical renditions come and go, but what remains constant is the art of face painting and the significance it holds.
Ardiel’s role begins long before the parade, not as a minstrel but as a painter. Fulfilling his creative contribution to the Kaapse Klopse, he’s up as early as four in the morning to assist the queue of people outside his home in Athlone. To get through the sheer number of performers who come to have their faces done – as many as 500 on carnival day – takes Ardiel hours, but his enthusiasm and energy never wanes. On the contrary, the yard outside his home remains a hive of activity as minstrels compare and show off their designs, encouraged by Ardiel’s compliments. Over the years, increasingly elaborate paint jobs and troupe outfits have become part of Cape Town's history and culture. But now, there are no concealed identities. “When we paint our faces, we don't paint to hide, we paint to show who we are,” Ardiel says.
Having done this for close to 10 years, Ardiel has become a master of his art. And just as face designs have evolved from classic white to the colourful, intricate patterns of late, so have his techniques of applying them. Ardiel began using black shoe polish and white paint that would peel off the minstrel’s faces as the day wore on. But he’s come a long way since then thanks to his dedication to his craft and experimentation with airbrushing, which has significantly reduced application time and enabled Ardiel to paint even more minstrels in the build up to the parade. In addition, he’s helped develop a paint that protects minstrels from sun damage while allowing their skin to breathe – a vital factor considering that the Klopse is an all-day affair under the heat of the South African sun.
Ardiel’s sons Zubair and Eesaa work alongside him, spraying on the white base or adding glittery touch-ups to minstrels’ faces. Ardiel thrives on the smiles of delight as performers check out their final looks in the mirror. “They must be excited for the colour in their faces,” he says. “It's like art, it must be a masterpiece.” Despite Ardiel’s longstanding involvement in the Klopse, his youngest son Eesaa initially had little interest in the tradition. But watching his father encouraged him to pick up a brush and join in. “He made minstrels a beautiful thing for me. He made me love it,” Eesaa says. Today, the graphic designer also finds reward in the reaction of the minstrels. “My main goal is at least just a smile if anything. For them to feel like, 'Oh, I'm actually beautiful. It's not the paint on my face, it's me, the paint just intensified how beautiful I am’,” Eesaa explains. For Zubair, Ardiel’s eldest son who has participated in the Klopse both as a minstrel and as a painter, the art form goes deeper than aesthetics. “It makes you feel proud of who we are and what we are able to come up with,” he says.
This sense of community pride doesn’t end with the parade. As night settles on Tweede Nuwe Jaar and the onlookers disperse, things begin to heat up for Ardiel and the minstrels. While the Kaapse Klopse begins on the streets of Cape Town, it continues in the form of the Kaapse Klopse Karnival Association competition. Over the course of several weeks, troupes showcase their musical renditions and choreographed pieces in a multi-day competitive event where they are ranked within numerous categories to determine the ultimate winning troupe. A truly local affair, the event draws hundreds who fill the stadium seats in support. Their energy is palpable as they sing and dance along, filled with pride in their cultural traditions and identity.
For Ardiel, whether his troupe takes home the trophy or not, he’s already won in the eyes of his sons and his community. “The way they feel for my dad is like, he's the main guy, he's the ou they would say is a massive role model to the people around him,” Zubair says. “Personally, my dad is my superhero,” Eesaa adds. As Ardiel moves from minstrel to minstrel with a paintbrush in hand, beautifying their faces and connecting with them, his effervescent character belies a man who shies away from acknowledging his influence and contribution to his community. In return, Ardiel doesn’t ask for much. “Just the thank you they give me, that's enough,” he says. In his words and actions, Ardiel is honouring the legacy of his ancestors all while creating his own alongside his sons.
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