"With a thumb against the clay’s underside, Siyabonga Fani depresses the landscape, and streams of fissures chase his touch. The clay has been aged with a drying agent, and so the material resists the movement, breaking apart so as to bend. This wet body will be offered up to a fire made from yesterday’s newspaper and litter, emerging, wearing a mottled coat of smoke. After this body has been bruised by flame, burnished by stone, and varnished by cooking oil or shoe polish, the effect is one of a creature wearing two skins — casting off one body for the next; the polished, metallic pelt for the scorched, blackened flesh of a tree."