Langelihle Mawela: South African portrait and digital artist capturing spiritual higher selves

Langelihle Mawela is a multi-disciplinary artist, painter, photographer, digital artist, and body artist. Born in 1997 in Umlazi, South Africa, she is a versatile creative driven by a passion for storytelling through various mediums. Mawela’s journey began in performing theatre, transitioning to stagehand work under Edmund Mhlongo's direction, and later pursuing TV and film production at Creative Arts College, where she earned a diploma in 2018.

Inspired by pioneers like Helen Sebedi and Dumile Feni, her work explores cultural heritage and social commentary. Notable achievements include selling artworks to Grammy-nominated saxophonist Marcus Strickland in 2022, showcasing at the KZNSA Gallery in 2023, and creating murals with Curatica to raise awareness against GBV in 2024.

Mawela has also worked with Smirnoff on a brand campaign and served as a creative director, photographer, and set designer for South African jazz musicians' album recordings, including projects for Dr Madala Kunene and Sibusile Xaba. In 2025, Mawela hosted 'Umsamo Experience' — a show she curated, organised, and directed — which was showcased twice at Ballito Lifestyle Gallery and Creative Pod's Studios.

How did you get started in photography?

I was born into photography; my mother and uncle had a family business where they captured events and weddings.

I would always watch my mother walking around with a camera and capturing moments. I didn’t know it back then, but I would spend the rest of my life doing the same.

The only difference is that I do not capture events; I love to create images from scratch. I fell in love with painting human beings, turning them into canvases, and capturing them in their highest form.

To me, photography isn’t so much about capturing moments, but it is about capturing the higher self — a version of yourself that you can only see in the spirit realm or in your dreams.

How would you describe yourself?

I am an artist deeply anchored in the essence of my being, existing at the intersection of strength and stillness.

I am someone who finds truth in the physical — I love to wrestle, to feel the raw power of the body — yet I am most at home when I am solitary.

I choose the company of the earth over the noise of the world, spending my days submerged in nature, where the frequency of the land resonates far louder than the voices of human beings.

What are the main themes that inspire your photography?

Spirituality and a sense of being — being a spiritual being in a human experience. My images capture the spiritual aspect of our being and who we are as Abantu.

They reflect our feelings, emotions, and the need to reconnect with our true selves

What moment in your career are you most proud of?

When Smirnoff flew me for the first time in my life. A dream of mine came true. I always told my mother that the day I flew for the first time, it would be because of my work, and it finally happened. I cried my eyes out.

“I choose the company of the earth over the noise of the world, spending my days submerged in nature, where the frequency of the land resonates far louder than the voices of human beings.”

What is the biggest challenge you've faced as a photographer?

Never work with people that you do not know or respect. Always trust your gut. I once worked with someone so toxic that they gaslighted me and made me feel worthless.

I became heavily depressed, and it took me time to realise that the person was just a horrible human being who was not passionate about what we do, but simply used it as a form of income.

I overcame it by distancing myself and praying for the people I work with to have pure intentions and pure hearts. After all, energy is everything, and my work happens to be spiritual, so I need like-minded beings to collaborate with.

What is your unique technical or visual approach?

Portraits, photo manipulation, and digital art allow me to explore my imagination beyond what the naked eye can see.

When I was introduced to digital art, I liked the idea of capturing dreams and what could only be seen with your third eye.

I love the idea of manipulating an image and imagining a different world — a world that only the gifted may see.

My work evolved when I was introduced to body art and started painting human beings to the point of capturing them as celestial beings in their highest form.

Photography did not just allow me to capture a moment, but to create a unique image of human beings that makes them see themselves as their ancestors' wildest dreams.

Which global brands, photographers, or industries do you feel your work aligns with most?

I feel aligned with the work of Gregory Maqoma, who is a choreographer. I personally love turning human beings into canvases, and Gregory's choreography is amazing. I would love to see how he would curate movement around beings painted by me.

I love the idea of combining dance and body art; that experience, when captured on camera, moves me. The idea of different mediums coming together in one fascinates me as a storyteller.

How is the photography and art space in South Africa?

It is okay, though I barely understand what is going on sometimes. Durban photographers are very good at copying ideas from other photographers online, including mine, which I think is disappointing.

We must be inspired, but copying an artist's work to the point that we can clearly see whose work was referenced is problematic. I think we still have a lot of work to do in terms of understanding ourselves and our craft.

People want to appear great, but nobody is willing to do the work. The art spaces feel dead or biased; personally, I think art spaces only recognise you when you have been recognised outside of your own community.

What do you think of the 54Ruum?

I see 54Ruum as a sacred vessel for the modern creator — a bridge between our inner worlds and the global stage. It is a powerful sanctuary where we are invited to strip away the noise and truly speak our truth.

For an artist, it isn’t just a gallery; it is a space to bleed our "he(art)" onto the page, allowing the world to witness not just the final image, but the ancestral pulse and the "why" that drives our very existence.