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African Art? Yinka Shonibare steps between the real and the imagined

Written by Mariana Pote
Tuesday, 24 February 2009 00:00

What is authentic African art? The question looms large in Western imagination and Yinka Shonibare’s work comes forth to contort and complicate it further. Indeed, even his name embodies the games he plays. An MBE title was awarded to Shonibare in 2005 by the Prince of Wales and the artist now wears it proudly and ambivalently. In a mélange of ideas, Shonibare explicitly signals his association with Britain, the Empire and the undeniable African-ness with which he is connected in popular imagination. Colonial games and power innuendoes are ever present in Shonibare’s theatrically moving figures. His privileged position as an artist between two worlds allows him to question and challenge the supposed African culture and identity which African artists are commonly associated with.

By mixing and stretching ideas regarding African history, Shonibare undermines the classic canons by which African culture and its artists are judged. So-called traditional African art has been depicted and characterised as sculptural. It is often made of wood, sometimes shaped as a mask and other times, represents bodily figures. Resourcefulness is also a common attribute assigned to African artists since they commonly use recycled materials such as wire, cans, packaging and even weapons. “A dark and exotic appearance has also been highly appreciated by African art collectors,” wrote Sally Price in her book Primitive Art in Civilized Places.

Shonibare uses mediums such as photography and acrylic painting. His figures are made from fibreglass (cast from plaster moulds and clay models) and clothed in elaborately sewn dresses, corsets and jackets.

A hybrid identity and art

Shonibare was born in London, but moved to Lagos, Nigeria when he was 3-years-old. He returned to London to study Fine Art at Byam Shaw School of Art and then studied at Goldsmiths, where he received his MA. The bizarre installations Shonibare creates suggest the incongruity that living both in Lagos and London formed. Like the Jamaican-born writer Naipaul, Shonibare carries the history of colonialism in his work and biography. Speaking to the Independent, the artist said: “My work is about colonialism, about my own colonial background.”

On other occasions, Shonibare has referred to himself as a kind of hybrid. A passage from Naipaul’s Enigma of Arrival (1987) voices the in-between-ness that the colonial legacy can create: “That idea of ruin and dereliction, of out-of-place-ness, was something I felt about myself, attached to myself: a man from another hemisphere, another background, coming to rest in middle life in the cottage of a half-neglected estate, an estate full of reminders of its Edwardian past, with few connections with the present. An oddity among the estates and big houses of the valleys, and I a further oddity in its grounds. I felt unanchored and strange.”

Shonibare succeeds in displaying beauty and elegance through dazzling garments. By mixing an African textile with a Victorian-style fashion, the garments suggest shared colonial histories. Shonibare contradicts ideas of African art by presenting a stage which melts African and English characters together while emphasising a particular subversion of Victorian society. The figures and their body language bring to us stories of violence and discrimination, and the subtle power games which the Victorian ventures into Africa implied. The wit of it is that he does this without resorting to the shock factor that has now become banal in contemporary art. Indeed, his strength lies in the silky subtle layers of meaning which his magical installations/constructions contain.

African textiles?

Shonibare seeks to bring political histories alive by stimulating playful sarcasm on history and authenticity. The fabric Shonibare uses is highly significant. Although the wax print batik fabric signals a notion of Africa, the artist buys it close by in London’s Brixton markets. The history of these fabrics is insightful of colonialism’s intertwined threads. Created by the Dutch in the 19th century, they were then manufactured in England to be sold in the Indonesian market. But, as they were not selling well in Indonesia, the cloths were transferred to the West African markets where they were sold cheaply. By the 1960s, this style of fabric was heavily taken on by Africans. It thus became symbolic of African identity and national pride. By bringing the fabric into his art, Shonibare has given the highly commoditised textile a valuable artistic status. The mixing of African fabrics with Victorian characters exposes the colonial relationship with Africa as a source of wealth. Furthermore, it highlights the role of colonial powers in shaping African identity. These headless figures thus portray the indissoluble link between the continents of Europe and Africa. Shonibare’s constructed scenarios ask that the viewer travel to an imaginary world during the height of the Empire.

 

An African artist?

In many ways, Shonibare’s work is considered modern rather than African. But, the limits of where African art ends and modern art begins are dubious. Through his reference to the colonial legacy, however, Shonibare carved out a space for himself. Shonibare flips the question of what African art is supposed to be by taking us to a non-existent, but also vividly real, world of Imperial extravaganza and indulgence. Here, African cloth feeds colonial desires with riches and power. Had Shonibare not highlighted African and British colonial history, his work would probably never have received such great acclaim. Indeed, his success stems from his ability to strike a balance.

In many ways, the stories around colonialism, African culture and history have not yet washed over sufficiently to give space for African art which can talk of the present. Shonibare still lies undeniably attached to the stereotypes of African art by discussing African issues. Indeed, the circle is vicious; there is no way in which his art could be significant if it was not somehow about African colonial history. The irony lies not only in his work, but also in the situation. A state of affairs in which Shonibare’s willingness to speak of African identity and colonial history is informed by the knowledge that we would not take notice of his art if it did not touch on these themes. Ambivalently, we continue to foster and assert myths of what African art is. We are lured to images of war, darkness and disaster and to a discussion of the colonial past.

As Naipaul pointed out: “I felt that my presence in that old valley was part of something like an upheaval, a change in the course of the history of the country” (The Enigma of Arrival, 1987). One can only hope that Shonibare’s works and his reception will have the capacity to activate a dialogue on our shared past and future, eventually allowing us to move beyond a discussion of an imagined Africa to a contemporary one.

Shonibare was nominated for the Turner Prize in 2004 and has exhibited in venues such as the Royal Academy of Arts and The National Gallery and participated in major events such as the Venice Biennale of 2001 and 2007. His touring exhibition “Double Dutch” at the Boijmans van Beuningen Museum, Rotterdam (2004), was a great success and his work was also displayed in the “Africa Remix” touring exhibition. Jardin d’Amour at the Musée du Quai Branly, Paris, is one of his latest pieces and, recently, he has been acclaimed for the performance piece Odile et Odette. In the near future, Shonibare’s Nelson's Ship in a Bottle, will be displayed on the 4th plinth of Trafalgar square. The piece is an enlarged replica of Nelson’s flagship, HMS Victory.

Yinka Shonibare, MBE is represented by Stephen Friedman Gallery (London) and James Cohan Gallery (New York).