Habedashery Burning 02.12.2015

Alon is an award winning photographer. He earned himself an international Picture of the Year award for his depiction of the Marikana Mine Massacre in 2012. He is the Chief photographer for the Times National Newspaper. He brings us despair and hope, he brings us joy and insight. He brings us excitement and he brings us knowledge. He makes us think, he makes us emotional. He is our eyes, he is our view from afar. He is a visual story teller, a translator. He is a news maker.

Alon Skuy grew up in the hills of Bramley, he was schooled at King David and Eden High, leaning towards the arts and English.
His talents weren’t ignited by schools passing days. Nor was his future laid out for him after his musings through Israel and his wanderings through Britain. Neither did his vocational pursuit come by him with any obvious awakenings. But on his return to Jozi, he had to make a decision.

With an inkling for telling a story and an excitement for hearing one, with a keenness for dabbling in cultures foreign, he pitched his fork in journalism studies, but with no love to drive him and no passion to excite him, interest waned and he dropped out.

He did jobs painting sets, and working the shelves of a video store. He breathed life into a First Aid interest, volunteering for Ezra, further getting buy on odd jobs and odd interests.
But a love for the arts and design stewed within him a simmering passion. He knew he loved things visual-images, the arts, and going places one wouldn’t ordinarily have access to. He knew he loved meeting extra ordinary people. He knew he loved colour. Maybe, he thought, it was photography that could be his means of expression.
Managing a bursary at the Market Photo Workshop in Newtown , a photo journalism school begun by the great David Goldblatt, he gained a photographers lexicon, a jargon of sorts and a love for the dark room. He gained an insight into a photographers realm, into its being. But nothing too detailed. Only experience on the job would give him the tools that would make him special.

It was one of his lecturers Michelle Lokidis, who, having taking an interest in the young Skuy, introduced Alon to Thys Dullart, a photographer at the Star Newspaper and soon-to-be mentor.
With an internship at The Star, Alon got his eye in shooting when he could or doing admin when he couldn’t. Working 12-13 hour days, 6 days a week soaking up all that was informing him, adventuring on breaking news stories, covering sports and fashions events, meeting talented photographers and getting dirty in the field, his hard graft earned him a full time contract with The Star.

With a sharpened armory that he’d amassed at The Star he joined The Times National Newspaper after Robin Comley a picture editor who had worked with the Bang Bang Club, snared Alon. Having joined in 2007 he climbed the ranks to where he resides today as Chief Photographer.

 Alon doesn’t speak of the pursuit of a goal. He tells me he lives for each day, extracting as much as he can from that day. He concerns himself with the immediate. He sees only the now, though he does admit to some day hoping to publish a book.

With interests harbouring on music, travel, art films and astronomy, Alon has a soul, he has a spirit, a certain humility.

His job isn’t linear, and it isn’t guided by structure. He has to be at the right place at the right time.
The constraints of his job demand he be flexible and fast. To shoot while the trigger is hot, and to capture a moment in time, to tell a story, to do it with creativity and to do it beautifully. News photography doesn’t allow for a failed mission or sketchy mistakes, it is rapid and it is pressurised.

‘Success is the opportunity to do what you love doing, it’s about not being perpetually unhappy in a job you aren’t excited about’.
Alon expresses success by enjoying waking up and telling a story, by generating emotion and aesthetic and being able to communicate through images he has captured.

He offers me some advice:be free in one’s thinking, approach things differently, and hold back before you jump straight into something. Express yourself through your work.

Alon, before he pays the check, muses,  ‘You ain’t gona do well if you’re sluggishly slugging away.’

Riga Mortis 22.10.2015

Ben Gurion Airport is a beautiful edifice, it’s cool by its sandstone coloured palette and the fountain court bubbles and drips soothing the soul. To walk freely around the spend-heavy duty-free I had to check two bags in, two back packs.

Looking like 2 condoms stuffed with macadamia nuts, my two bags brimmed with 4 and a half months of middle-eastern sun stained clammy clothes. The front desk couldn’t handle them and so they were sent to the small security and x-ray zapping machine to the side to be checked in. There some fat bastard with a shiny badge sitting by with a displeased grin posed along the safety deposit lift.  before I got to introduce myself and my two haggis-like bags to him and his over grown handle-bar moustache, two girls bursting out of their tight security uniforms, their buttons posing like ground to air missiles, were required to survey my package, my luggage.
I offered to assist the ladies by placing my within-weight-limit  back-packs on the MRI. Without a word, they shook their heads and sniggered knowing they simply didn’t need some wimpy, pasty yeshiva lad for this one.
Buzz bizz, the specimens enter through the giant sausage machine, and on the screen the purples and the whites express something obscure, something alien, something that says ‘sweet gsus that’s just not normal’.
The pony tailed one comes over to me, ‘sir, we have noticed something that needs identification, would you mind if we open your bag?. Squeakily I respond, ‘uh, sure, I apologise in advance for any dirty, skiddied traumas.’ I go through the files in my head-any herbs, any white powders, any body parts-i can’t recall packing any of the above.
 one by one, they slap on the rubber gloves, thwack thwack and start digging. ‘I got it’ she says.

A bag of Leanne’s ones ‘n two’s, shoes.
‘Sir how come you have women’s ones-and-twos in your bag? I say, ‘oh, so my wife, uh they’re my wife’s shoes, she asked me to bring them cos her bag was full and i’m so angry with her now, im gona scream and shout like a raging banshee, argh!!, well not really, huh nervous *giggle giggle*

Specimen number two, now it’s you. Biizzz buzz. And it’s through. ‘sir, seems we have more to extract, no need to fear, we do this all the time.’
ruffle ruffle dig dig. ‘got it’. Out pops a hair dryer and a bag of pasta. They’re laid to rest in the specimen tray.’hmm, i’m thinking, one could be a weapon at a stretch and a blow, and the other could give you constipation, but other than that, surely i’m innocent?.’

With her rubber gloved hands she beckons me. ‘uhm, that’s my wife’s too’. ‘sir, is it new? uh I think it’s like 4 months old. ‘Okay its fine. And sir, the pasta?. What’s with the pasta?’. Feeling a little daft, and just wanting to break any silence with lots of babbling talk I tell the security lady that, well, we’d been staying in an apartment in Jerusalem and when we left I didn’t want to waste or leave behind anything so I brought it along. I was brought up never wasting, for there are starving Ethiopians who could do with a bag of pasta. I continue by telling the svelte cop that my wife bought it at the store and well we didn’t eat it since I don’t eat carbohydrates.’

‘the ‘i-don’t-eat-carbohydrates’ swung the whole precarious shoe bomber investigation in my favour. The more bulbous of the two asked me about my diet. ‘whaaaat, you haven’t heard of High Fat Low Carb? i pique her perky interest. She tells me she’s been trying to lose weight. Im now comforted and my chips are on the table and im holding 4 aces.”eat all the fat you can, google Tim Noakes, cut out the on-board nuts.’

and well they let me go my way, she smiling, me informative, and Tim Noakes saving the day.
go on, Get High, and Get Fat
the Russian Bear Hunter.

Life’s real Uber 24.06.2015

I was a bit of a loner way back in 95-96. Most often, I stayed home on Saturday nights. But one night, I felt the need to get out there. So I dialled Rose’s taxi, and within 45 minutes I was in Rosebank singing, ‘ I love the nightlife, I got to boogie on the disco ‘round, oh yeah...’. The night turned to morning, and I hastened to get home. My pocket money only covering a one-way ride, I began the long  walk home.  As I got to Corlett Drive I pulled out my Tom Thumb to flag a lift.

A car pulled up filled with a trio. ‘You need a lift?’. ‘Yip’ I said. ‘Jump in’. Settled in, greetings ensued and we were off.  ‘Dude, it’s not dangerous jumping into stranger’s cars?. Responding with a skewed mouth, confused I said, ‘uhm, and it’s not dangerous picking up strange people?.
Eventually i arrived at my destination. Walking away, I rated them as ‘cool’ and they probably thanked their lucky stars I wasn’t wielding an axe.

Had I known at that tender age how to spell ‘entrepreneur’, maybe it would have been me creating this empire that’s nearly as big as Facebook. Uber.

So Alon Lits buzzed me on my Blackberry and while my maid hovered, hoovered in the other room, I put it on speaker phone. There’s always a disconnect when I don’t get to ‘experience’ the interviewee, but alas this is the ‘whatsapp’ generation.

Alon was blessed with a switched on brain. Maximising his ability to think and to resolve and to project, he studied actuarial science and received a post grad in Advanced Maths in finance. He was accepted into Investec’s graduate recruitment programme where for 5 years he sharpened his pliable brain. Stepping off the express A-train, he went onto an MBA in Singapore. That year was humbling in that it offered an explosion of new life experience, new countries and new cultures. Returning to SA he wanted to be a part of a start-up, avoiding slipping into traditional business. The idea he’d sketched received very little traction so soon found himself at Leapfrog Investments, a private equity fund. Here, he gained at-the-coal-face knowledge of business, cash flow and marketing, but with the view that this was a temporary position.

Then Uber buzzed.
  
Against the screaming and croaking of people unsettled by Alon’s decision to venture into a strange, untested business, he took up the exciting challenge. As General Manager for Uber technology servicing in Johannesburg, Pretoria and Durban, Lits links closely with the operations team both on the marketing and supply aspects of the business. From his position he’s seen the business unsettle traditional companies, expand its services, grow employment, and alter the face of public transport.

How do some of us get it and others just keep wondering when it’s going to come? How do some of us convert our chances, and others just don’t even know to convert. Did Alon grow up, or was Alon any better educated than the 1000’s coming out of private schools and tertiary educational institutions? Has Alon made more correct decisions than any other?
Alon was gifted with the knowledge that he was blessed with a thinking head, and with that blessing he has ensured he’s gone through his career with the right tools for the job. He displays self-awareness, constantly re-evaluating his position, his marker. He knows his strengths and fortifies them. His degree was technical, it was academic-heavy and so made use of the MBA to give him nuts and bolts business acumen.
Tanking a traditional eight to fiver, Alon waited patiently for the opportunity that spoke to his inner desire. He must be patient. He hunts like a lion.
Inertia is a powerful force; it’s easy to slump into a state of comfort, to receive the paycheck.  Alon’s awareness of his greater picture affords him the ability to get up and seek challenge, to pursue the knowledge he needs for his next step, to raffle the status quo in fulfilment of his vision.

Hunger breeds success. Hard work breeds success. Humility breeds success. In our “whatsapp’ generation, we demand instant success, we believe we’re entitled. We’ve got to be willing to do anything to achieve, to work mightily to achieve. Place your efforts in your talents, in your strengths.

Seek your talent, seek your strengths .Don’t be Alon. Be you. Be Uber

Dirty Dancing - How To Horrah 21.05.2015

The two things I love about a wedding: the salmon board while photographers document a day, and the washing machine spin-cycle of the horas that’ll leave you in a sweat. the rest is for the dvd.
This article is a short illustration of the horas you should be doing on your wedding day, if youre jewish or just want to be New York-cool.

1.The Classic
This is the go-to hora, its easily understood by all participants. Even the kids that struggled to put the square toy in the square opening will get this hora spot on. One circle of mates going in one direction, and an inner circle of mates going in the opposite direction. four rotations and you have a successful dance. spinning too fast could alter the internal comfort zone of the venue.

 2.The Square

                                                                    The Square is a little harder to arrange, afterall not all of us are accountants. But you really have to have buy-in on this dance. You don’t need to choose team mates, just grab the closest chosid, pull him to you tightly, shoulder to shoulder and command the floor. you'll be required to separate the participants into 4 groups. This isn't the Civil War, for here North engages South and East engages West. North and South move towards each other bumping chests, then return to their original spot. East and west do likewise. If you're creative, you might get your team mates to clash into the opposing team backwards. Try it. It's fun.

 3.The ‘You spin me right round like a record player..’ manoeuvre.
This is really basic. Your best mates make a giant circle moving in a chosen direction, using the classic, right foot forward, then left foot forward , then right foot behind left foot hora step. You the groom jump into the centre and grab your old man, while your boet grabs your uncle. You begin doing frenetic circles, toes against each other  holding hands. It's a roller coaster and you didn’t even have to fit under the gold miners hand.

 4.Sifting soya

This move is daring and the groom has got to give his go-ahead. You’ll need 2 fresh table clothes, big enough to sift rocks, but not let them through. Usually as many lads as possible hold onto the edges of the cloths while the groom jumps onto the stretched ‘skin’. Think, fire fighters. From here on in, he has paid his entrance money and the ride takes its course. ’Ground control to Major Tom’. The lads proceed bouncing the cloth up and down, the groom with it. Like bouncing beans on a drum the howls of laughter or screams of fear will echo off the Sandton Shul halls walls. The lads must control the grooms flight and direction. Houston we have lift off.

5. ‘The Bridge over the River Kwai’
This dance is ‘extreme’.  Each of the guests grabs a partner, face to face, interlinking arms, creating a tight bond. Each pair gets close to one another, shoulder to shoulder. The groom runs and jumps onto the ‘bridge’ arms in front like Superman. It’s critical that his feet are held down by the participants. The groom gets bounced forward, momentarily suspended, flying. 'Is it a bird?, is it a plane?, no, it's Moishe'. A dream come true.

6. The 'A' train

This dance ain't exactly a night out in Manhatten, but it'll make uncle Max happy to be part of the festivities. It comes about when we're lost for ideas on the next move. This is the dance that gets you a view of more than the big flower pot with its hay fever pollinating gladioli. Here you’ll walk the length and breadth of the dance floor, gaining a fish eye view of a whose who at the wedding. Evoking the figure '8' is common in nature, even educated bees are doing it. Should this dance hold one's attention for long enough, that number might be achievable. All you got to do is grab the closest yid on his shoulders, ensure he does likewise with the next closest yid and just start heading uptown.

 7. The Wrecking Ball

This vigorous move is an exciting assault on the senses. You're clustered in groups of four, huddled spinning, spinning. it might happen that you collide with other clusters. this dance is galactic, and my personal favourite.

8. The 3 Scoop

Who doesn't love a 3 scoop? As a regular wedding goer I am yet to see this move, or achieve it. my lungs often shredded from screaming '3 circles, 3 circles'. The 3 Scoop is made up of 3 concentric circles rotating in opposite directions. 'People, it just takes a little bit of organisation and innovation. that's all.' this is undoubtedly the golden ticket of hora manoeuvres and looks phenomenal from a bird's perspective.

                                                                            

 9. The Skipper

If you ever had dreams of being like Rocky Balboa but never been to Philadelphia, now is your chance to show how good a skipper you are. No need to guide a ship through stormy water or land a wayward rocket on the moon, just jump over a moving string. strong legs and out stretched arms and a quick reflex will get you applause. two lads each take the ends of a long table cloth turning it into a 'rope' for skipping. the protagonist, the person who wants video coverage has the courage to go ajumping. this is school playground kind of fun.

 10. The Bucking Bronco/Hold the Hankie

This move takes initiative. Someone from either men's and woman's section must run to get a chair for both the bride and for the groom at the same time. Splitting the red sea couldn't have been more difficult. then you require strong lads to heave the groom/bride upon the chair, twirling them and showing them off like a marvelled Oscar statue. The idea is then to get the bride and groom together to share holding a handkerchief... sigh...love

 

 11. Pop the Balloon

The brides organiser friends make sure she has things to pop-long polls wrapped in beautiful ribbons with colourful balloons attached. The bride is placed on a chair with a sharp object while her friends holding the polls circumnavigate the lucky lady. as they pass by pop pop the bride goes.

There are many more hora ideas, so be innovative, be exciting and make sure to entertain the bride and groom.

Bowling For Ballen - The Tale of a Two Scoop 19.05.2015

The king of ice-cream,  Paul Ballen.

 I scream, you scream, we all scream for Ice Cream.
Like the arrival of The Beetles at the Met, the ice cream frenzy is extra-planetary.

Of dad from NY City and of artist mom, split in two, a twin, Paul Ballen experienced life less ordinary, a life more exotic. Cultured in the arts, worldly in travel, and with a taste for food, the world was his perogan.

Educated in the black, whites and blues of King David Victory Park, he followed the beaten path.
A BA in History and Psychology and an honours in Clinical Psychology, he was a little uncertain.  And so, a gap year filled with numbers, a PDM at Wits business school. 

Holidays filled walking the streets of New York City while visiting his granddad was life education, Paul got his. The steamy streets, the sweat dripped brows of hot New Yorkers, and the jungle humid caverns of the Metro underground. I love New York in June. ‘So who wants an ice cream?’

Paul’s sister’s boyfriend got an ice creamer maker. In 2009 Paul wanted an ice cream maker too. Churning out a batch of ice-cream had the neighbourhood screaming for more. After throwing his first 'ice cream and waffle' day at his folk’s house in the summer of ’09, the drooling throngs of fans arrived. Paul’s Homemade Ice Cream had erupted.
 

With social media ripe for launching, lots of ‘likes’ on Facebook , images of the ice cream, of the machine and the process on Instagram, and a streaming Twitter feed creating further hype, ice cream orders flooded in.  His one over-worked ice-cream machine was increased. His artillery became 3.
Under pressure to progress, his mom designed a logo, he filled tubs, continued doing ice cream and waffle events and pushed hard to get into stores. One, then two. Braamfontein. Illovo. They released the flood gates, and the ice cream flew out of hipster central.

Things just happened, they fell into place. One meeting led to another. Roger, his dad, advised, 'have meetings, chat to people and things will happen'.

A gaping gap in the market, and the right space in time assisted Paul. There was momentum.
There were doubts in his mind though. ‘Should I do this?, do I have the time?, will this work out?, Should I not be pursuing a staid office job? Once the deliberating debate with his mind had settled, the realisation was that ‘I’m young, and I’ve nothing to lose’. And so he took the leap.

Ice-cream making is a creative process, requiring traditional business aspects along with a need for a passion for food. Paul understands he has many skills, none specific and this pursuit has allowed him to utilise his vast array of talents.
Paul’s Homemade is changing our perception of ice cream as a crafted, artisanal product made with care and patience. It’s  associated with memory, it’s not trending, it’s not a fad, it’s sustainable.

The two scoop has gained momentum. With the growth of the business, Paul and his creative spirit have now been twinned with Josh Amoils and his business acumen. They have since moved in to new premises, a building in Orange Grove, a yawing ships cabin.

‘Operating your own business has its difficulties, and criticism is directed at you.
It’s a heavy blow being up against the ropes. You've got to be passionate and driven enough to ensure the product is successful.’ Paul is fighting a market that is driven by economics, that wants a cheaper, value-for-money product. Adrenalin, belief and passion drive Paul, there is no time for sitting still.

"Is it important to have a goal?" I ask. Ballen responds, 'Is it your personality?
We’re unique. He didn't ever anticipate being where he is. He never ever said, 'I’m gonna be...' Some people have a better understanding of their skills and strengths allowing them to envision their pursuit.'

His success is seeing a product people enjoy, appreciate and identify as being quality. 'Ice Cream is only the beginning'.
‘Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts’, Winston Churchill

Motivation, a strong work ethic, a responsibility to clients, a ‘no half measures’ attitude , some vision and support from his parents have been cool components in his rise. His parents gave him the chance to try. All our experiences are learning curves.

Live each day as it comes, be passionate, reflect on what you’re doing and reassess. Be happy, the moment you aren’t happy or you aren’t learning or have doubts, it’s time to move on.

Next time you’re considering a two hour session at a psychologist, lick a scoop of Paul Ballen’s  Homemade Ice Cream and stretch a smile.

Walkman's, Hotmail, North Star Takkies 23.04.2015

In a series of Interviews i did, the Russian Bear Hunter next caricatured Jonathan Liebesman, Holywood Director. You might recognise his most recent flik, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

I called the United States and at the other end of the ‘dog n bone’, was Lily, PA  to Jonathan Liebesman, Hollywood Director and good guy with a good head of hair.

Those late Sunday afternoons when the stray boerie was left on the bbq and the sun was dipping beneath it’s clouded blanket, the carte blanche soundtrack beated a limp feeling in our hearts, there we were playing tennis-court cricket focused as the great Hansie. But tonight as I spoke over the crackled line to the States, I found out he wasn’t focused on the game, he was dreaming of making movies.

I grew up with Jono, we got dirty riding bikes in velds and playing hourless cricket, we drank grape Fanta, and swam till we turned to raisins. We lived through the lens of Steven Spielberg’s viewfinder. As we grew up, that lens found Jonathan and he sought it.

Jon races through his career like Eastwood hunting the Ugly on the moving set of a Western.
King David, AFDA ‘s South African School of Motion Picture Medium and Live Performance, NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts, short film, agents ,LA Hollywood , Darkness Falls, popcorn coke and Box Office Number one.
Like John Wayne to wild horses, I reel him in. I need to pull him back to get where he was, where he is and where he is going.
At NYU in 2000, Jonathan reeled in the Student Short Film Award at the Austin Film Festival and the Hollywood Young Filmmaker Award at the Hollywood Festival. His adaptation of Roahl Dahl’s ‘Genesis and Catastrophe’ had quivered the nostril hairs of movie  agents in Tinsel Town.  No sooner had he picked up the award, the cameras for Darkness Falls were rolling and Jonathan and baseball cap were sat in the director’s chair.

As a young school going lad, Jon wanted to make movies that he wanted to see. He put all his efforts, concentration and focus in achieving this dream, of making  the silver screen his reality.

The film industry is a cage fight. As the director, you fight hard for what you envision, for what you hope millions will see.  Bidding for the opportunity to direct a movie is stripped of Hollywood glam and red carpets, it’s gladiators fighting  till the death for an opportunity to create, to turn picture boards into movie motion. To retain creative integrity the director sets out to compromise as little as possible. You’re chosen for your skill set, for your conviction, for believing in what you’re presenting and making them believe you are the best.

Jon defines his success as being able to do what he loves doing, being able to make a living creating movies.
Jonathans sensitivities  and humility transfer over the ether as he engages where he is currently. He acknowledges success; that it has come through a constant inner drive and determination. Realising that you’ve reached the pinnacle, remember to enjoy it, remember to appreciate it. That is success.

The industry is a scene from a mob movie, it’s tommy guns, black coats and sock daggers. Jonathan is dumbstruck by the lack of integrity, fidelity and trust that Hollywood’s film industry imbues. He holds dearly the importance of family, and the trust that comes with his familial relationship. He advises never to be surprised by anything and don’t take business too personally.

Every opportunity to direct a movie is seen as an achievement. Jonathan takes little for granted.

If he had to koki pen his highlights of his time in the hills of Hollywood, directing his favoured actors,  Ralph Fiennes and Liam Neeson, two actors that starred in his number one flik Schindler’s List would no doubt be the pinnacle.
Life isn’t that rosy when you receive a pasty review, however, when you’re in the field he so dearly devours, lowlights aren’t even worth while mentioning.

Extracting Excalibur from the rock is less difficult than following one’s passion. It’s seldom the practical option, however, whatever you do, find something within that which you are doing  that you love and indulge in it.

So the next time you’re at the cinema watching Battle LA, Texas Chain Saw Massacre:the Beginning or Wrath of The Titans hold fire for  the director’s credit for you’ll see a familiar name. Jonathan Liebesman.

Dairy Don't Do It, Eat Sorbet 09.02.2015

A while back I was taxi’ed through the grottiest areas of Lagos, Nigeria. Our client was researching beauty parlours in this more-24-hour-city-than-New York City. We hopped puddles of raw sewerage, sticking out like Tweety birds in a coal mine, as we peeked through windows of back door salons where Lagosian woman with technicolour nails, and fire red lipstick chatted as they were being plucked, pulled, painted and frizzed. But who cares, this isn’t about me, this is about Ian Fuhr.

Leaving university mid-degree to sing in cocktail bars floored his folks, but it was a passion and love for music that landed him at Gallo Records. After 18 months flipping through vinyl LP’s, he departed, leaving behind his first and only experience clocking time.

Fuhr’s sheltered Jewish upbringing dodging matzo balls didn’t exactly expose him to the realities of apartheid South Africa. It was only until he landed himself in a managing position at Kmart, a consumer goods company he and his brother established that he’d be touched by South Africa’s ills. He had his work cut out for him naively managing a compliment of staff who were expected to be productive and ethical, yet simultaneously suffering the dramas of a cruel regime. Launch, a learning curve.

Meanwhile, music in the racks of Kmart introduced Ian to two popular artists, Letta Mbulu and Caiphus Semenye. Cementing a relationship with these two exiled stars, he was granted the distribution rights of their tunes in South Africa. This led to Fuhr establishing a record label, Moonshine. Flogging the label in ‘85, he returned to Kmart.

On his return, using Kmart as a test tube for mending walls, he developed programmes to assist in bridging the disparities of the black staff within the work environment - promoting blacks into management was unique for the times. This experience heaved him in to creating a race relations company called Labour Link Consultancy. After a seven year itch, Ian returned to the newly named Super Mart, which the brothers Fuhr primed for disposal to Edcon in 2002/2003.

Super Mart was Ian’s springboard. He activated the opportunities presented to him. I don’t know what defines an entrepreneur but Ian’s case presents a study.
Not dictated to by degrees or predetermined paths, not straight-jacketed by the lure of loot nor the sniff of success, not afraid to fail, not afraid to explore Fuhr tried, that’s all he did, he tried. ‘Life is what happens while you’re busy making plans.’
Relying on a pioneer’s recipe of intuition, courage and determination, following the paths which lead to other paths which lead to further paths, Ian created the doors to opportunity. For Ian, as an explorer, a pioneer there are no road maps, or evidence for the journeys he takes. A fighting entrepreneur paves the path, draws the map, engineers his/her own highway, his own trajectory through investigation, research and will.

Ian discusses intuition, for it hints that something is inherently right but there is no evidence to prove such; courage, for there will always be obstacles and challenges, and thirdly; determination, for, without it, you won’t be able to see your venture through to completion, this coupled with a naive confidence that it'll all be okay.

Drawing on his life’s experience, his relationships, his visions, his efforts and his intuition, he kick started his next adventure.
While laying on a massage table, chatting to the masseuse with an ear close to the ground, the opportunity presented itself.
Sorbet, not a two-scoop, but a chain of beauty stores.

 Telling me he’s not got the face for the cover of a magazine, at first he didn’t think beauty to be a great idea. But having the itch for diving into existing, established markets, to upset apple carts, Ian heeded to intuition, and the masseuses coaxing. Through investigation, he determined the fragmented industry had no multi-unit chain. This was his opening. And so with a lion’s courage and a dung beetles determination he leaned in. With sufficient cash from the Edcon deal he went on a buying rampage, picking up independent beauty salons, spinning pumpkins into chariots. And so Sorbet came to be.

As he’s grown up sprouting grey hairs, his success has been his contribution to the lives of others: what have I left behind, how have I touched the lives of others?. Sorbet has given Fuhr the opportunity to greet 1000’s of guests, to influence them positively, to turn them chipper. Today Sorbet numbers 117 stores and continues on the march.

I remember cruising down Grant Avenue in 2005, listening to Sheryl Crowe thinking a new ice cream store had arrived, alas. That year, 6 were launched. This this isn’t about me, this is Ian’s story.

Baking It Good 08.04.2015

This is a story not about the Russian Bear Hunter, but a girl baking it good.

While on my Wednesday run, in the dark of the morning, trying to keep up with my sibling, I heaved out that I’d just interviewed Linda Lipschitz. I managed to get out, on one breath, that she’s the softly spoken woman with the jet black hair who created Belles Patisserie. As we hurtled up Knox street, my lung in my throat, he said, ‘and, so, what did you learn?’ having quenched my dry lips with the lick of my tongue, I said that I was struck by how she’d created a business from nothing- no baking degree, limited business knowledge and years of focus elsewhere, yet ingrained with a desire for self actualisation, she created something alive. ‘Dude’, he said, ‘you’ve got to watch Ratatouille’.
And so in a messy dorm room in the Old City, I did. ‘Not everyone can become a great artist’, Ego, the food critic said, ‘but a great artist can come from anywhere’.

After 19 years as a speech therapist and an academic, enough was enough. She had pulled the plug on a career that lasted a generation, aching for a new lease on life and a whole lot of fun. She left the profession unable to define her future, unable to envision a path. She pondered, and she considered. Her continuous inquiry lasted five years speckled with the birth of two kids. The thought of being a stay-at-home mom did not bring fire to her spirit. And yet, in her, a passion for all things tasty, burned .

As a foodie with buds for pastries, no croissant on the Highveld could tickle her fancy. And so she decided to begin baking. She had a chef teach her how to bake thee croissant, and a host of other flacky, fluffy delights while all the time enjoying the creative process.
On a journey to America she came across the Red Velvet cake, as yet unseen in Johannesburg.
On return, on family vacation to the Cape she didn’t see the light of day until that velvet beamed a bright red. Sun up to sun down, she beat and mixed and tasted and swirled and licked and pondered and kneaded. She read and she investigated, she dabbled and she experimented. And finally she had it. The magnificent Red velvet.
‘I want to run a baking business’ , she said. Her husband wasn’t too enamoured and responded, ‘When you have some sales, call me’. And so she hired a chef and baked cupcakes and tarts and all things nice, and dropped taste boxes throughout the hinter land.

For Linda, it was important that the cakes didn’t just look good, but that they had one’s taste buds doing triple pirouettes.
The store, ‘Life’ loved her Red Velvet and another client, ordered ‘100 lemon meringues by Friday’. Her pastries had traction in the mouths of fans. She had started a business.
Linda, her daughter and a best friend baked from the kitchen, then the garage. And when the orders expanded she took on a pastry chef.

‘When the student is ready, the teacher appears.’
The time had arrived to call her husband who advised her. Linda knew nothing about business but surrounded herself with all the right people. She stresses the importance of a mentor, someone who can see the greater picture and assist in guidance.
As tough as it was, she realised it was time and necessary to relinquish some responsibility, continuing, though, to oversee everything but still driving creative decisions.

3 years ago her head chef departed, opening the door for her current French chef, and together they’ve opened up a store. From baking in her garage to her flagship in the Blubird Centre, to a factory employing 80 people, the screen play for a buoyant business has been written.

Every business has its difficulties-flexibility and the ability to adapt are imperative except when it comes to her cakes-clients demand the same tasting bite every time.

A book, ‘Creating something from nothing’, she read to her kids reads, ‘start small and dream big’. Just begin. Try new things, be innovative and have fun. We limit ourselves by our beliefs and what we’re expected to be. Don’t be afraid to start something in your study, in your bedroom, in your closet. Never follow the recipe. Remi didn’t.
‘Belle’ says the goal is imperative, however there is no ideal, no perfection. ‘Forget about time, one cannot put a time limit on the course of life. Live in the now.’

For Linda, success is personal success. It’s about being happy with your level of behaviour in everything you do, how your children mirror you as a mentsch, that makes you a success.

As I leave the country in pursuit of a vision, of clarity, I reflect on Linda’s journey. We have got to keep moving forward. Break the shackles of societal demands and pursue that which is burning inside of us.
See the world through Red velvet tinted goggles.