Mpho Matsitle writes and thinks in music – the only language he understands – and believes that everything must be subjected to the unforgiving scrutiny of black radical thought. He fancies himself an immortal black existentialist and a libertine. He claims he’s just a collection of ideas and passions – all mind and soul – and thus does not recognise his body nor take any responsibility for the actions thereof. Which would explain his devotion to thought and art, and somewhat neglected (shabby?) appearance.
Born and bred in the mining township of Kanana in the little dorpie Klerksdorp, a graduate of the University of the Free State and now by default a denizen of Bloemfontein where he works and wards off philistinism with his magic provocations. We also might add – as a disclaimer – that he’s a son of a praying priest so no amount of ill-thought will do him any harm.
