I’m Ashleigh Cooper but you can just call me Ash, I’m 24, queer, and I’m new to Joburg. Originally from Cape Town, I have a background in Fine Arts from UCT’s Michaelis. I moved to Jozi for a new start; I needed to be cleansed. I am currently doing my Masters in Curatorship; my thesis focuses on how to archive the Ephemeral experiences of Queer nightlife in Johannesburg.
I’m focusing on Sound as the main element: the music that plays at these events, the crowd’s responses, the cheers, the energy of an embodied group. A constant in my work, even in my undergrad, is the forgotten and ignored. Wristbands, stamps, the experience you feel within that space. I’ve been going out to a lot of events, whether painted obviously for the queer community, or more subtly in the way the event operates. I’m not focused on videos or photographs… I feel there is a static nature in the way they exist. I don’t want this to be something you can visualize, I want this to be something you can feel, something you “wish” you were there for. I also like to write, it’s all I do. I write and reflect. Poems, words, stories, life. I’m a poet, artist, researcher and partier.
We welcome Ash to The FRM Newsletter to share what they’ve been into recently!
🎧💿 Music
Following is a list of ‘local’ musicians, DJ’s or bands I have been really into recently:
• My Girl Loves Cat
• Dubba
• L.O.C
• Decay (shout out Decay)
• Shameless
• Medcin
• Aura Electric
• Topia
• Operation Khataza
• E%M
• Nandele Maguni and Sussekane (especially their Entanglements set) • Gareth Erasmus
• Shanti Cullis
Some of my all-time favs include but aren’t limited to:
• Ear
• The Velvet Underground
• The Knife
• Charli xcx
• Lorde
• Eartheater
• 2Hollis
• SOPHIE
• Radiohead
🎨🇿🇦 Art
I’m taking a sabbatical from making art this year. I do, however, love making video works, the one I am most proud of is my Seven Minutes in Heaven video piece, focused on shame, sexuality and intimacy. Even though I am not currently making works, it doesn’t mean I’m not consuming art. The following is a list of artists I admire and feel inspired by:
• Gina Levi (@ginalev.i)
• Aaliyah Alatovic (@aaliyah_alatovic)
• Zenaéca Singh (@zenaeca)
• Retha (@rethabilemmodise)
• Leah Mascher (@leahluxmascher) I particularly love ‘NECKLACE’.
• Kwei Shun-Yu (@kwei_shunyu)
• Neha Misra (@loveb1ndi__)
• Oupa Sibeko (@oupa.sibeko)
• Nina Shapiro (@ninaturokshapiro)
• Kamil Adam Hassim (@kosmothestarkid)
🥘🏡 Food
I’ve been eating a lot of shakshuka recently. The secret to a good shakshuka is to have someone make it for you. I don’t mean restaurant staff; I mean someone you know personally.
My first time eating shakshuka was with my friends from university. It was New Year’s Eve in 2024, and we were camping in Rocklands. We had three tables, a gazebo, and about 5 different chairs amongst the 7 of us.
My friend Nicky set out the mission to make us all shakshuka. I sat back in a camping chair. She bent over the gas tank with a pan sitting on top of it, cigarette in hand. As we all moaned, joked and complained about the heat and the past year that we’d all gone through.
The shakshuka was served. Buns were roasted on hot pans, and breakfast was given. I think shakshuka has to be eaten in company. With people you enjoy your time with, shakshuka is best eaten. After the person has cooked you the shakshuka, you must do the dishes.
For lunch, it depends. A cheese sandwich with cucumber always does the trick.
Dinner: I have been obsessed with chicken pasta. Any pasta would work, but my favourite is gnocchi. Not the ones made from potatoes but the ones that are shell shaped. My chicken is always a bit dry because I’m scared of salmonella and leave it in the oven longer than I should. So maybe don’t take my advice; I’m not your mom.
🎸📚 Fashion
My fashion style is constantly evolving. I find a lot of inspiration from the Indie Sleaze era. I like to think of my style as “hungover celebrity”. I prioritise comfort, ease, and then swag.
Short shorts, no bra. Look like you just rolled out of bed, sexy, effortless, and ready to fight.
Body hair. I love my body hair. I love having hairy armpits that get men upset. Wearing a bikini while having a bush is the most liberating thing a person could do. Having hairy ass cheeks and a hairy stomach all while being hot and sexy…now THAT’S fashion.
An iconic pair of sunglasses. These must be cunty, they must make you look like a rockstar, like rich money when all you have to you name is R12, a packet of tobacco, and superglue to stick your sunnies, that keep breaking, back together.
Patterns and prints. I love a good cheetah print; it’s trashy in just the right way.
Necklaces and Bracelets that aren’t silver anymore. All my jewellery is bought cheaply or gifted, and all of it is tarnished. I think there’s beauty in its erosion, it shows how often I wear these pieces, they have a story.
Safety Pins. I pin my shirts, I pin my pants, I pin my jewellery, I pin the holes. I close it all up in hopes of showing how held together I am.
No eyebrows. Shave them. They’re holding you back.
If I’m reading, I’m reading for my masters. Some good articles or journals I think everyone should read if they’re interested in understanding queer nightlife as important aspects of the queer experience are:
• Feels Right: Black Queer Women and the Politics of Partying in Chicago by Kemi Adeyemi
Dancing, clubbing, and raving are extremely political for me. It’s less about the act of hedonism and more about coming together, regardless of where you come from, what happened yesterday, who you like, or what you look like. Under the colourful strobe lights, we are all just bodies trying to escape this rat race. Clubbing and queer nightlife is there so we can explore: our desires, how we dress, how we are perceived, who we interact with, what we listen to etc. It’s a way of being that I cannot compromise. I don’t party for the sake of partying and getting fucked up (although that sometimes comes with it); I party for research, for knowledge, for community, and for learning more about myself.
I was terrified of what people would think of my work, if it would be respected, if it’s even important. But the more I go to these events, participate in the scene, show up, converse, tell people about what I am doing, I hear the overwhelming interest in it. That interest is just proof that what I’m doing is important, for the youth, the queer community, the underground… they know that this is something that’s needs to be explored, documented, written about, and shared to people who might not get to experience or understand what we’re doing here.
I feel it’s important to address drugs. It was one of the reasons why I was scared of whether this would be taken seriously, because you cannot talk about the nightlife scene, particularly the queer, underground clubbing scene, without addressing substance abuse. Ever since I started to integrate myself deeper and deeper into this scene, the more it’s obvious that these kids just want to escape. Think about it. These people come from backgrounds or histories that don’t accept them; we all have our own reasons why there are three white lines neatly packed on someone’s phone in a squished small bathroom stall or why there are pills that make you feel invincible or nothing at all, and why they’re never-ending. In a city like Johannesburg, you realise that everybody here is struggling; everybody here has something interesting and important to say. Just go up to a stranger, and you’ll learn that people are out there, doing shit, and you feel like you’re in the middle of something important. The drugs are there, yes, but they’re not the centre, at least for me, the focus is on connection. Being one with one another. And that, I think, is what Cape Town is lacking.
I experienced such culture shock when I moved to Johannesburg. I truly couldn’t believe that everyone I’ve ever met here was so nice to me. I always felt like a weird kid. In Johannesburg, you can go out alone, and you’ll make friends; in Cape Town, if you go out alone, there’s almost an 80% chance you’ll not engage in a conversation with someone the whole night.
I think my positionality from not being from Jozi is interesting. I get to compare and contrast the differences. The nightlife scene in Cape Town is segregated, the music scene is often dull, the people are cold, nobody has anywhere to live, and everything is expensive. In Jozi, people can see the structural decay all around us; the only thing you can do is to talk to one another, because in a city that’s crumbling, the strongest bridge there is, is the conversations you have with strangers and the connections you make with people you have no shared background with.
🌿🎬 Tips
To get into the underground queer scene in Johannesburg, you must go to events. You can’t be scared. You have to talk to people, and you have to be consistent. You are an outsider; they have never seen your face before. The more events you go to, the more people will recognise your face, and that’s when the connections happen. Dress to impress, be open, and, most importantly, have fun.
Always reflect, always write, always remember. I think I’m the biggest fraud, and I’m constantly embarrassed of my work. But I think those two things are incredibly important for the artist’s soul. You should be embarrassed. If you’re not embarrassed while showcasing new work, then you’re not doing a good job. By embracing that embarrassment and that sameness, that energy of “I’m just like everyone else”, then you will succeed. Because yah…you aren’t that important, nobody is, but you were at least brave enough to say something… to reflect on the fact that you are just like everyone else, and that’s a beautiful thing to be.
How to be embarrassing:
