I now have a website – http://www.anthonynsofor.com. Please subscribe to it to get new blog posts as I will only occasionally post links to that website. I wrote this essay reminiscing on all the great experiences I have had since I moved into Torpedo Factory Art Center as a resident artist. In so many ways, my sense of place as a creative in the scheme of things has become more assured, with every conversation with a stranger. Click on the link to read this amazing story- https://www.anthonynsofor.com/post/celebrating-2-years-at-torpedo-factory-art-center.
The lure of becoming an international figure fascinates me- to cross national borders effortlessly and encounter new people with their cultures. Travelling can be out of curiosity, to see how the other side is. One’s identity could become fluid, of course. People always want to put you in a bottle, place you in a defined space or context. I don’t know how important that is now that we have the internet. Anyway, with the camera in hand, I started studying the places and people I met on my journeys.
Working in transit meant reducing the scale of my paintings. Smaller pieces were more convenient to work on in hotel rooms or lug through airports. I had begun a new body of work called Citizens of Nowhere to commemorate this migrant phase. In 2017 I created 100 paintings of faces for the series Citizens of Nowhere. A collector friend of mine persuaded me to give him 3 pieces from that collection before my friend Chika explained how the works needed to stay together. They needed to be in a collection. So, he has kept them for me at his home in Princeton. A time will come to show those pieces.
This arrangement shows 21 of the 100 Faces from 2017, 2018 arranged together, from the Citizens of Nowhere series.
The Faces from 2017 and 2018 were mainly monochrome, black and white picture. The recent follow-up series Global Citizens has more colour. The added expressiveness of colour gives more weight. Starting from a structural, more formal rendition, the work has evolved to the external embrace that colours bring. Colour affects our perception of reality so strongly.
Another reason I started travelling abroad was from being uncomfortable with the political atmosphere in my country. In 2009 Nigeria removed History from the school curriculum (This misnomer was corrected in paper only in 2021). Over 50 years after the Nigeria-Biafra war, the pangs and pains of that event have not been adequately addressed by the Nigerian government. Our people (Biafra, or groups of people from parts of Southern Nigeria) remained traumatized, victims who are continually made to pay for a war that ended with the Nigerian government claiming that there was ‘no victor, no victim’. The political atmosphere runs amok- this phrase is a blatant lie. So much about the lifestyle didn’t make sense. We looked like one people that the colonialists divided when they split Africa among themselves. We shared similar skin types and physical features, so the ethnic rifts hurt more than racism.
The more I travelled, the more I felt alienated and a strange kinship- I formed an alliance with people everywhere. But the alienation came from being uncomfortable in America. In response, I started the shock series Songs of a DbAA (Dead black African Artist)
There was a certain frustration with a system that did not acknowledge one’s presence. These are some of the agitations with being a migrant. Also, the nostalgia for the homeland never leaves you. These complex feelings affected how I saw reality so much.
I pushed the series Songs of a DbAA at the height of the pandemic. 2019 saw me stuck in New York, caught up by the travel restrictions of the time. I started making collages with magazine cuttings and painting with acrylics. I was in an unfamiliar land. People avoided each other. We all wore masks. I wanted to see the faces, to see if a smile followed the glint in the eyes of the cashier at the grocery store. The masking policies suddenly put importance on human faces. The idea of faces that told all the story was something I had done before. I started creating new faces. The memory brought a schismatic image.
Headshots are strong. The faces are small, like mug shots or passport photographs that are required for creating a travel ID. I still look to people, to faces. Maybe we will find the heart’s intent in their faces? I have met some people who call themselves global citizens. That sounds more precise- Citizens of Nowhere has birthed the series Global Citizens.
Some of the older Faces I have painted in the past.
At the Nsukka Uli School, we learned about traditional Uli and other symbols to communicate ideas. Powerful storytelling inculcated iconic patterns understood by the initiates who shared these symbols.
This is like using emoticons in texting or adding the avatars on social media platforms like Facebook; and in virtual gaming platforms like ROBLOX.
I started making faces at a time in my village history when a sacrilege had occurred.
As a child, I have always felt tied to these cultural expressions and entertainment ushering in the new year or on occasions to commemorate the passage or visit of great people to Oguta. Masquerading is one such tradition. The masquerades have raffia bodies and stand as tall as 9 feet. They wear Ekpo masks also. Similar masquerades are played in other parts of Southern Nigeria. The invigorating performances of the masquerades caused the audience to be in a presence of a ‘being’. The idea of looking to the specifics of the being usually fled with all the terror and excitement of witnessing these masquerades performing, walking the entire course of the village with their charm-bearing followers who chanted songs of praise and stories of the exploits of the masquerades.
In 2016, two rival masquerading communities in Oguta clashed at the beginning of the New Year. A young man died during the fight. In retaliation, the siblings of that man attacked and sacked the other community. They brought out to the public the paraphernalia of the masquerades from the shrine of the rival community, tore them apart, and disappeared the masks.
My mother was from the Abatu community that lost their masquerades in that skirmish. The people pride themselves as the supreme masqueraders in Oguta. For a long while, there was a search for a rebirth of the masquerades. The king placed a temporary ban on masquerading.
In my series Citizens of Nowhere and the 100 Faces, I studied facial expressions. I searched in Jakande market, Lagos for similar Ekpo masks. I also looked at the masks in Ochanja market, Onitsha. The facial expressions and ornamentation differed from pictures taken of the masquerades from my village.
Art history tells of how cultures have dealt with the idea of the face. Hieroglyphics, the Ife heads, and other older African sculptures have given the face (or rather the head) much prominence. Ihu oma akpo na m (transliterated good face has called me but means that one has a foreboding of good tidings. The faces represented in my work are symbolic of the diversity of expressions of human emotion. The stylization allows for a free interpretation. Viewers should see themselves in the artwork as though before a mirror- to seek understanding and apathy. Nowadays travel is easy; the internet and communications are flawless- we have access to everywhere. Sometimes the experience is virtual. People realize that we are different, and the world is large. Moving around, one finds that we share so much as humans. We need to look more closely.
Some months back, a mentor of mine made an interesting observation- he suggested that I was ‘anti-Uli’ in my work (There was a complete absence of traditional Uli symbols in my works). My work is unpretentious in its intentions. An artist could choose a different path, another strategy. Instead of recycling symbols, I invented a pictorial language of loosely drawn faces in their randomness conjuring a bundle of emotions.
Colours are used arbitrarily in the series while the subject matter is still the human head. My work borrows the formal elements of passport photographs or those portraits of our ancestors we hang at home. Those pictures keep reminding us of those that have passed. We must never forget. I think of the meaning of the face as identifiers- suggestive of myriad meanings.
Art is a socializing act. Multiple movements are screaming for an outlet. It’s possible to get sucked into the work. I suggest or interpret form in fluid ways. I embrace color- it is urgent, restless, and straight from the tube direct to the white space of the canvas, to home. I push each color, seeking transitions, intercessions, and breaks. Gradually, a thousand suggestions besiege me. From the onset, one knows that suggestions can be fleeting whims stacked in heaps of unattended dreams. They could also be haunting guilt from memory. Reality is about open-ended stories told with no beginnings, middle point, or end. It is such a vortex. We only have moments.
Belonging to a specific geographic location is somewhat stifling and unreal. The Internet arrived to disrupt Time and Space. Imagine the taming act- claiming a static place in a map as defining identity! Overly ambitious and arrogant. It is flawed and pretentious, somewhat like a colonialist dream of subjugation. Life veers beyond concrete, physicality and becomes electric transmissions. Dust from the path will caress the traveler, occasionally obscuring the view ahead. I am one with such dust. Call me what you will- African, migrant, a wannabe, whatever. Is it possible to put a genie that has tasted freedom back into the bottle, Aladdin? I belong. I am. But not by being separate, aloof, specific type. I am fluid, intuitive and interactive.
Adaptation is key to being contemporary if you feel this curious wanderlust. I resort to note-taking to never forget- where, when, and how I got here and became this person. Who am I? I am you.
To be included in this Exhibition with Anthea Epelle and Obinna Makata is exciting news. The title felt so like what I would use as the theme for one of my paintings! I chose to emphasize Line in my work while still a student in Nsukka in the 90s. The element of art took on another meaning for me as an undergrad in The Nsukka Uli School. In Uli traditional motifs, Line was tied to meaning in a visual interplay of language and idea.
I started researching the books in the Linguistics section of the university library about Language and Meaning. Seeing how traditional Uli was used as a sign language, I read more about the works of the neurologists Sigmund Freud and Carl Jung. The writings of Freud was associated with the work of the Surrealists.
My use of line became personal- iconographic, suggestive, leading in various directions. As used by the curators of this exhibition Obida Obioha and Sunshine Alaibe (and in response to my work, in ways this post may not address) the word disjunction alludes to disunion, separation. There seem to be suggestions of an intent to address my practice, its place in current scholarly practice. The questions around origin, identity, and authenticity come to mind. The audacity of this exhibition, maybe its priority, is a sort of disruption in space.
I think back to one of the earliest essays written about me by Jess Castellote, a longtime friend and curator of Yemisi Shyllon Museum, Lagos. Jess described me (in his blog A View from My Corner) as a somewhat ‘invisible artist’ (my words). I have often preferred to work in solitude, hoping that my ideas will be less affected/influenced by popular trends in the arts. At the end of the day, I may stand alone. The extent to which I have been able to achieve this in my artistic practice is debatable. There are some exclusions in recent conversations that suggest that I am standing outside, somewhat self-induced.
This is the price for a restless migration. It is also about the disruption that happens in meetings between different cultures. I have to keep introducing myself as I travel. Fluctuation becomes an essence mastered by a nomadic native son. There is original creativity familiar with the energy from other spaces. Vernacular must veer towards foreign syllabic consonants for communication. Of course, my work has been affected. And yes, the world is more connected now than 20 years ago. I have met co-sojourners. Many of us live elsewhere. We fall into a gap that is, to say it mildly, disruptive of a developing system.
My view may not be shared by the other artists in this show, nor by the two curators of Oda Art Gallery. But I enjoy the works of the other two artists.
NB: My first meeting with Sunshine was like 4 years ago when she joined some curators to visit my art studio in Lekki. They asked some quite interesting questions about my artistic practice. Hopefully they will put out the text of that interview one day. I felt they understood what it is that the artist intends to do in society. That sole visit culminated to me being in this exhibition. I am grateful. It comes just days after ArtX Lagos.
Relational Lines: The Disjunction of Sameness is open for viewing to the public till December 9, 2021 at Oda Art Gallery, 10 Samuel Manuwa Street, Victoria Island, Lagos. For enquiries: info@odaartgallery.com
Can you piece together the full image of my painting Joseph’s Dreams by taking screenshots of segments of the video? I look at my work like this- in bits, then as a whole and reverse the cycle. Till I am sure of the full thing.
A video clip of Joseph’s Dream, 48x36inches, acrylic on canvas, 04/2021
A new friend asked me the question- why did you move from the figurative to non-figurative works? Two days later, I sent him this reply- “Early on in life one is curious about the ‘real’- the sensually perceived world around. And one tries to capture this life. So, using photographs (particularly digital images) one steps in so close to counting the pores on people’s faces. It is not a pretty task. Soon one realises that this is not enough- there is a knowing part of connecting with humans. Humans are dynamic; we also grapple with the spiritual side. In researching further about Matter we have new information that modified the old theory. Let me apply it to painting. So the possibility of revealing the human by capturing a resemblance was simply not enough. There is more- there are interplays of color, layers of meaning, and gestures that add up to fully reveal the ‘person’. The figurative is like in the beginning, like the skeleton, a building block. To capture form is no longer enough, that is not an end in itself. It is a start. So I went beyond figuration, merging form and void, space and color.””
A few years ago, Sandra Mbanefo-Obiago exhibited Ibe Ananaba and I at Temple Muse, Lagos. That event was the beginning of our friendship. The first thing you immediately realize is that Ibe Ananaba is an excellent draughtsman. Every other thing in his work is beside the fact. He pushes an idea, and that idea evolves into a series of two, sometimes three or more paintings. In this recent exhibition titled Towards the Light, Ibe presents a body of work created during this period of the pandemic- lockdowns, social distancing, and staying close to family.
He has been painting between home and his art studio, a few blocks away. Oftentimes his children accompany him, as the schools have been closed. Since leaving the advertising industry to focus on his painting career, Ibe uses his work as a rallying point for strengthening family ties with his wife (who was in art school with him) and his two children (whose works were featured alongside Ibe’s in a joint exhibition in 2018 aptly titled Bonding). In one corner of the studio hang some of his children’s paintings, distinct for their non-figurative, enthusiastic use of color.
The artist often paints suited men in hats, but one is yet to see him dress like that. Growing up in Aba, South East Nigeria, he is accustomed to the vibes of that sprawling city market that supplies fashion wares to neighboring West African cities. The tailors and craftsmen of Aba are highly skilled workmen whose works give the popular fashion brands from the West a run for their money. Ibe recalls the family albums of black and white photographs of his parents, uncles and aunts posing for the photographer in their trendy clothes, hats and all. The well-dressed people in his canvases became stronger metaphors when he found out about the flamboyant dressers of the Congo, the Sapeurs (the group of eccentrics called La Sape is the acronym for the Société des ambianceurs et des personnes élégantes) The expensive outfits of these ghetto-dwelling people may illustrate a failure in the setting of priorities in some societies. This paradoxical flaunting of wealth while living in squalor totally blows the mind of any rational thinking person. Ibe Ananaba’s works situates in this mix- colorful and tastefully dressed subjects become burdened with the task of delivering strong political statements. This grand show must go on even as things go south. The figures mime poses reminiscent of shots from a fashion week. While enthusing about poise, elegance and glamor, Ananaba’s works reflects on the dark sides of the human condition. The paintings are all the more spectacular because of the artist’s preferred tool- the palette knife. He masterfully welds this obtuse tool to create riveting portraits. The monochromatic gradations of color show that the focus in the work lies elsewhere- in the drawing of the subject. The subject matter revolves around themes that connect with his creative process rather than to any final visual presentation. Yet he makes politically charged statements with a consciousness of the daily struggles of living in Lagos, Nigeria and the ineptitude of governance.
The idea of chiaroscuro is key to how he positions his subject. Then like an older Rembrandt he muddles up physical appearances without losing the essence. Ibe Ananaba understands that the light touching form is what delineates, what explains and gives meaning. Thus, he paints in darks and middle tones, finally resolving form in the lighter tones. To provoke deep thought, images of the human figure need not be broken as though one is looking through a prism.
Like his mother, Ibe is at odds with the idea of having a specific signature. His creative energy felt caged by the needed slowing down, monotonous marking. For a long time, the artist used a quickly doodled smiling face as signature. This was easier to remember. Nowadays everyone is advised to wear a mask as a health safety precaution to curb the spread of the Coronavirus. The mask becomes symbolic as a necessary monotonous obliterator of smiles, a stifler of laughter, and on the other hand a compassionate preserver of life.
Detail from the painting Amidst the Noise by Ibe Ananaba
In a series of acrylic paintings titled Amidst the Noise Ibe again sits the subject in the center of the canvas, drawn in using the palette knife with varying shades of color. The artist sends out a message of laughter and hope that must be included in our daily lives during these trying times of a ‘new norm’. Here he adds simplistic line drawings to contrast the central subject- hundreds of smiling faces in the flat background. Some of the faces resemble the stick figures that children draw when learning to represent humans. Upon close observation one finds that the randomly drawn faces vary stylistically from the quick one liner to more expressive caricatures. (Ibe points out that his two children doodled some of the faces. He wanted to keep them engaged) In public spaces these days a visibly smiling face is frowned upon as being ‘insensitive and endangering’. Seeking a way to explain the times to his children, he codes in shorthand human faces. Viewed from a distance, the recurring faces resemble textures of heavily applied color breaking the flat color plane, bordering the human figure drawn in with swift slashes of paint applied using the palette knife. Ibe is moved to recollect the myriad facial expressions of people.
For as long as he can remember Ibe Ananaba has been inspired by music. He used to sing in a choir, and as a student at IMT Enugu he enjoyed the mimed, rap concerts staged on weekends. In those days learning the lyrics of a song took arduous rewinding of the tape. This sort of repeated learning improves one’s grasp of the language. Understanding the lyrics of songs inspired Ibe’s admiration of the poetic genius of rap music. His all-time favorite artist became NAS the American rapper. Listening to music evokes the themes around which Ibe creates new work. Socially conscious, trendy, fashionable, politically conscious… these words describe rap music. You may also be talking about Ibe Ananaba’s paintings.
A set of 4 paintings called The Promisor and the Praise Singers questions the inaction/actions of political leaders and their crowd of sycophantic followers. The series echoes the critical tone of Long Drawn Shadows, Ibe Ananaba’s well attended 2018 exhibition in Art Twenty-One, Lagos. His social awareness and activism are encouraged by his wife’s Girl Child Art Foundation where he volunteers as Chief Art Consultant. He conveys the dire living conditions of everyday people in Nigeria. The titles of his works ring with the familiarity of headlines from the daily newspapers. His subjects pose like runway models in an international fashion show themed on the economic and political malaise of the masses.
Nigerians thrive on the sense of community, shared activities and bonding so the idea of social distancing is particularly troubling. Some 10 paintings titled All will be well, are a body of work contemplating individuals making sense of virtual relationships over the mobile phone and online. These periods of isolated living have drawn the artist to make visual documents of everything. The tale is the same from Ojuelegba, Trafalgar Square, Eiffel Tower to Times Square- once crowded landscapes, streets and popular centers of human activity worldwide are now deserted, silent spaces. in this new body of workthe artist now includes some landscape paintings. Since this pandemic, we are rethinking the idea and relevance of spaces. Venues for holding large crowd gatherings like stadiums and churches are being redesigned to fit the new rules that humanity must adjust to, till a cure for the virus is found. These times give all humanity ample opportunities for self-recollection and reflection. Venues like The Wheatbaker are opening to the public to showcase adjustments of their interior decoration in line with WHO and NCDC health and safety regulations for curbing the spread of the virus.
Another painting titled Conversation with the Future is a portrait of the artist’s daughter. The artist says that this work reminds him that there is a future (in his child’s growth) of moving on. This sentiment runs as a subtheme to the exhibition Towards the Light. Another painting titled Where do we go from here? has figures of seated people. The artist has worked from a picture of some detained suspects. Sadly, stories abound of some of these youths outstaying the time they would have done for the crime while awaiting trial.
Another new trend in this body of work for the exhibition Towards the Light are some charming still-life that the artist would normally use as props for human figures. Now the objects stand alone as subject matter with the light streaming in from one side of the canvas. The drama of these well composed still-life leaves an eerie feeling in the viewer. Where have the people gone? That is the question on people’s lip as we step out of self-isolation and lockdowns into a new way of living. There is a withdrawal from each other even as we meet and greet. Is it caution, self-preservation or fear? People’s gazes seem a bit distant as they breathe in the air and walk into the sunlight. It leaves this taste for a longing of another, past life. We all would prefer to go towards the light. Something good awaits.
NB: All the artworks photographed for this article were made by the artist Ibe Ananaba for his ongoing exhibition Towards The Light at The Wheatbaker Hotel, Ikoyi, Lagos. The exhibition was curated by Sandra Mbanefo Obiago.
I enjoy talking. I enjoy the stimuli of intelligent conversation. And I hope to see underlying questions in retrospective. I talk some more when asked a question. I learn from talking. I learn from sharing. Let me share this fantastic interview with Omenka Online, the magazine for the Ben Enwonwu Foundation. Oliver Enwonwu, the son holds the grounds very well. He is also the President of the Society of Nigérian Artists.
I wrote this essay for the catalogue of Uche Edochie and Tolu Aliki’s amazing show HALFWAY THROUGH A THOUSAND MILES. If you saw the exhibition, I hope you find convergent views. If you didn’t, I hope you see some of it through my words. There is colour, there are pure colours and light in the window of art called Nigeria. It is fresh and strong. Read on.
Witness- An account of Two Contemporaries
One can’t talk about the artwork better than the artist himself- his artwork is the first and original statement! It is a more daunting task when the artist also writes about his work. I will start by avoiding descriptions of individual pieces in this exhibition. Tolu Aliki and Uche Edochie share from their souls, presenting telling self-portraits. Let us enjoy the evidence before us- exuberant outbursts of colour celebrating life in its various nuances! Halfway through a Thousand Miles is a visual narrative of the journeys of two artists living in Lagos. History, destinations, aspirations are explored in a probing manner. There is the light humour, and then the melancholic palettes! The journey of life is about halfway gone and both artists share the limelight. There is no faulting the craftsmanship.
Aliki studied Mass Communications and spins titles like Colors of Passion, Intimate Moments, the Good Life, Shades of Love, etc, all thematically situated in sensuality and a heightened enjoyment of the finer things of life. The intention tends towards perfection, his cunning to erase traces of the method of application.
As the curator, Edochie sees ‘an unexpected beauty in the …heroism of (Nigeria’s) citizens’. His paintings are psychedelic flows that surprise in the transitions between two colours, keeping the palette fresh and airy. Edochie’s working experience is in 4 phases- the first two relate to art practice while the last two revolve around sexuality and relationships, topics that receive more hush treatment (unfortunately) than they should in these climes. Both artists compliment each other. On the one hand are the mature dark nuances of colour; on the other, we have the pastel, graphic colour of a dandy! So this combination works. Well. Even before he graduated from Art School, Edochie knew what needed to be done. He started to fill in the gaps in the interpretation of his work, writing at every opportunity. For both artists, Colour is applied as a labour of love. Colour is theme and light creates other illusions. Aliki brings his signature childlike stylization of form and use of pure colour to contrast the extravagant splays of Edochie’s strokes verging towards a dangerous, passionate cadence. Aliki’s work playfully, yet emphatically holds attention in its stylization of form, while Edochie masterfully weaves explosive colours through bodies making them shimmer like beings stepping into celestial lights.
The creative person lives with the fear of not communicating, of being misread! Fine art allows such an engagement with the audience. The picture is an open plain. In the pieces in this show, both artists explore the human condition and political narratives, a tendency that logically comes with maturity- the growing awareness of responsibilities, of family, of leadership, of leaving something worthwhile behind. The works presented insist on celebrating the resilience of the Nigerian spirit trying to get ahead despite the bad press, despite the daunting living conditions. The artists spin tales as witnesses of all that is good about Nigerians. In these climes, they find an eager audience willing to grab at anything that will increase the value of living here. The artworks are autobiographical and homemade. The viewer sees forms woven in emotional and emotive poses. Then there are the standalone portraits on flat backgrounds. We trudge through the dismal Nigerian life, with the strange energy of people driven by the baking hot tropical sun, flashing teeth bared in laughter (hopefully).
The connection is immediate. Back then in Nsukka, Edochie delighted in his eye for details, revealing objects as though with bionic vision. Life and its toll happened, and the artist sees all reality in shades of psychedelic, opium colours. The business of life must be taken face-up. Aliki responds with flat planes of pure colour balanced in contrasts that regale in the two-dimensional surface. And yet the brilliant colours insist on making subconscious connections with the viewer. The firmness of his hand is without a doubt.
One has to tread softly through the hall full of impassioned, sometimes raging colour. Life is the fierce performance without beginnings or end, a journey eclipsed by unfettered optimism that charges the space. The journey of a thousand miles must be taken, one step at a time. Or you miss the suggestions. Art flirts flatter and provokes all life. But we live in an age where Time and Space has been transcended in many ways. Halfway through looking at the works, one feels a familiarity. Tolu Aliki and Uche Edochie are our contemporaries. But there is the individuality of experience that should be investigated. There is so much effusive brilliance. There are the dark notes. The audience must speculate on this.
NB: THIS ESSAY IS FEATURED IN THE CATALOGUE FOR UCHE EDOCHIE AND TOLU ALIKI’S EXHIBITION HALFWAY THROUGH A THOUSAND MILES. This exhibition closed on the 14th of October, 2018. Follow Uche Edochie and Tolu Aliki on Instagram for more stories and pictures of their works. Also, the works for this show and other works by Uche Edochie can be found on http://www.ucheedochie.com.
Witness- An account of Two Contemporaries
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