Tatenda Chidora’s Metamorphosis — Now Exhibiting at Singita Kruger National Park

Only the rhythmic shh, shh, shh of a homekeeper’s broom could be heard amidst the steady buzz of the Malilangwe wilderness. The heat was such as to lull you into a meditative state, where the mind wanders. And in the artist’s eye, the pile of seed pods gathering beneath the bristles was far more compelling than the birds, the trees, the view over the dam. So he asked her to stop sweeping and gathered them.

“They’re not something I think a lot of people see,” says Tatenda Chidora, a Zimbabwe-born, South Africa-based photographer. “Maybe the trees as they go, but we never look at them in any kind of detail. I think everything around us should be appreciated.”

This moment at Pamushana in late 2024 marked the beginning of Singita’s ongoing relationship with Tatenda, as part of our Africa Is… series — a collaborative project with artists and creatives from across the continent — and an evolution of his body of work titled Metamorphosis.

The project continued to evolve in mid-2025 when he visited Sweni, and again with his return to the Kruger National Park in March 2026 — both times alongside videographer Julian Robinet, who documented his creative process and the seasonal shifts that alter the landscape.

Weeks spent traversing the wilderness yielded bounties of seed pods and bark, which he crafted into a collection of 14 ornate masks, then photographed on models across the concession. “It’s about giving things new life. The seed pods represent an element of metamorphosis, even though I’m using them as a prop.”

Sometimes subtle, sometimes profound, metamorphosis is the natural process of change in stages, often from one form to another. It’s a caterpillar morphing into a butterfly; a tadpole emerging from the water as a frog; a person becoming a new, different, or truer version of themselves over time.

“The reason why I cover faces is this metaphor of people hiding themselves. When you cover their face, you’re covering their identity,” Tatenda says. “This project is an exploration of the masks we wear. It’s a study of the layers we build to navigate the world, and the potential we hide beneath them.”

Exploring themes of identity, masculinity, and belonging, the project reflects an artistic spin on nature’s vessels of change, reminding us that for potential to be realised, the shell must eventually crack open. “Without the elements we stand upon for definition, what do we, in our purest form, stand for?” he asks.

Understanding this explains why the seed pods drew his attention that day at Pamushana. They were evidence not only of what is, but of what could still be. “Seed pods disperse to different places but also hold life. One day, they will germinate somewhere and become a whole tree. The seed itself carries potential, the power to grow.”

And much like this, a mask isn’t only a means of hiding, but of becoming. An invitation to introspect. A reminder that change is constant — even when it feels imperceptible. That we, like the humble seed pod, hold the capacity to transform.

“The beautiful thing about transformation is that it happens to us as human beings every day.” But often, the change around us feels far greater than the change within us. Seed pods suggest otherwise. Wearing a mask both obscures us and makes it easier to reflect on how far we’ve come.