Celebrated Gqeberha artist Derrick Erasmus dies

Renowned artist Derrick Erasmus, whose precise and quirky images centred on the theme of masks have been exhibited and sold around the world, has died.

Erasmus, who celebrated his 90th birthday at Art on Target in Gqeberha in September, combined a sense of fun and the precision he learnt as a botanical artist in London in the 1960s and ’70s to produce his distinctive masks.

Artist Graham Jones, a friend and former student, said on Thursday that while Erasmus had been extraordinarily humble, he had exuded an inner confidence about his work.

“He found his artistic language and stuck to it,” he said.

“Simplicity runs through his work and like a great ballerina it seems effortless, but there is a lot behind it.

“He should have been in London or New York. He left us all behind.”

Erasmus, who died in St George’s Hospital on Wednesday morning after a short illness, was born in Balfour North in the Eastern Transvaal, and went to Pretoria Boys’ High School.

He studied at the Witwatersrand Technical College and then Port Elizabeth Technikon, where he did his master’s in fine art and painting.

He subsequently worked as an illustrator at Kew Gardens and the British Museum of Natural History, before returning to lecture at the PE Technikon, where he finished up in the mid-1990s as acting dean in the faculty of art and design.

In a 2020 Artec video, Erasmus explained how during his botanical illustration period he had realised that nature worked in themes.

“I thought if I could find a theme for my own work, it would be wonderful.

“Then one day I was making a salad, and I cut a green pepper in half, and in its cross-section I saw this little mask. It was a eureka moment.

“There was my theme — and I have been doing masks ever since.”

Graphic designer and Nelson Mandela University research associate and former lecturer Prof Bruce Cadle said Erasmus had created his masks in multiple mediums from pen and paper to painted canvas, sculptures and digital creations on the computer.

“They are remarkable abstractions of human physiology ... slices of humanity, endearing for their honesty and wit.”

Friend, former student and fellow artist Cedric Vanderlinden said Erasmus’s flair for composition and colour were standout features of his art.

“His masks were never superficial. There was always lots of meat on the bones.

“He must have created tens of thousands of them in his life, but he never repeated himself. They are all unique. 

“He was constantly curious, constantly creating.

“And he always seemed genuinely happy to see you.”

Artist Hilary Graham, who lectured with Erasmus in the 1980s at the PE Technikon, said they had both been adherents of the Section d’Or, the French artistic idea, which originated in the early 1900s, that every picture should have a “point of emphasis”. 

Former student Rose von Wildemann said Erasmus had delighted guests at his birthday party by playing some boogie-woogie jazz on the piano and telling the story of how, when he was producing his botanical illustrations at Kew Gardens, he had “added a couple of goggas, which the botanists never noticed”.

“He was an authentic guy, a gentle soul, loved by all, and he had a helluva sense of humour.”

Artist Theresa Hardman said Erasmus had been an amazing teacher.

“As a student, I sat in the kitchen in the house where he and Christine [Ross-Watt] lived, in Cuyler Crescent, and he taught me how to draw.

“He was the kindest and gentlest human I have ever known.”

Speaking to The Herald in the same house, which Erasmus bought in the early 1970s, Ross-Watt said he had been busy with his art until shortly before he died.

“He was due to exhibit at the GFI in September next year and he had already produced enough so I am hoping the exhibition will go ahead anyway.”

She said Erasmus’s usual style was measured and carefully proportioned. 

“But in fact my favourites are from his ‘lappie art’, which he created while cleaning his brushes at the end of each working day.

“As he wiped off the paint on a piece of cloth or canvas, the layers grew and masks emerged. The style was totally free.

“But every one of his masks has something that makes you smile.”

Erasmus leaves behind Ross-Watt, his son John from his first marriage and two grandchildren.

HeraldLIVE