By Jane Efagwu Photos: Olaseni Okedairo
It is no longer a secret. 2020 has proven to be the year of something bigger than anything else: The black revolution. Africans everywhere are taking a stand against systemic oppression, discrimination and objectification of the African culture and her people. While this major cultural reset now dominates public spheres and has initiated major social discourse everywhere around the world, it is important to look back at where it all started. Africa. Before the now popular violence and commodification of Africans themselves, there was the very unpopular violence and commodification of African art.
Stolen. Shipped. Sold. Copied. Displayed. And now, owned by major museums around the world, the journey to the world stage for African art has been a painful one. However, if it’s one thing about art, it’s that it will always turn pain to power. This power is what Title Deed, a collective of seven young Nigerian contemporary artists-Wasiu Eshinlokun, Maureen Uzoh, Ken Nwadiogbu, Lekan Abatan, Emma Odumade, Margaret Otoikhine and Yussuff Aina have employed in correcting the narrative and telling their own stories through their own art and in their own spaces.

Re: Mediation. An exhibition which was held at the African Artists’ Foundation (AAF) at Victoria Island, Lagos featuring works that boundlessly explore the theme of restitution. In these works, these artists demonstrate the importance of understanding the past and appreciating the present as a means of predicting and owning the future.
Eshinlokun’s display features masking tapes dangling in an unending W motion, flooding the ceiling and connecting to the three art pieces on the wall which are also connected to themselves and each other. The artist goes a step further to pull the art out of the frame by featuring a live remake in a painted and taped human form. This one step produces several painted and muddled footsteps and the artist explains that this represents the movements of Africans and their culture such that we no longer know where it starts or where it stops. Wasiu also explains that the tape represents bondage as well as continuity of life for Africans, African art and of course, African artists.

For Ken Nwadiogbu the renowned hyperrealist, the eyes will always have it. This is how he represents consciousness in an unconscious world. He depicts the sale and commodification of consciousness by putting eyes on a coin. Nwadiogbu’s clever irony stings again when he puts open eyes on bodies and cages them with something made to cool us down – a fan.

To execute the theme, Maureen Uzoh employs a brilliant fuse of new media and old culture. Her works also feature heavy themes of sisterhood, African feminity and family. In one frame, Uzoh attempts to ridicule the idea of the West renting, selling or discounting African art to its rightful owners despite being aware and even wearing the countless headlines of stolen African art being reported in the media.

Abatan’s Our Ancestors Wear Prada shows the aftermath of a cross-fire meeting between Africans, their art and the West thus birthing popular phrases like ‘African American’. His works feature portraits of historical Benin, Ife and Nok art pieces dressed up in Calvin Klein, Adidas and Lacoste with African fabrics as the background. The mix up is almost comical yet thought provoking.

Restitution is literal for Yussuff Aina as he presents three dimensional versions of a recreation of Eniyan, his signature mask style. Eniyan, meaning person in Yoruba, takes on the form of newly excavated art pieces whose facial/body features have been damaged due to the gruesome unearthing process. One piece features Eniyan with palms pressed together and a marked cross on one palm. He explains that this is a way of using Western religion to beg/pray that the Westerners return the stolen pieces back to Africa.

Choosing a dramatic yet creative approach to the topic, Margaret Otoikhine casts African art and its stories in movie posters that attract you with their colors and captivate you with their details. The only photographer in the group, her use of black and white imagery on one of her pieces, Queen Idia, sees the filmmaker and photographer attempt to tell the Queen’s actual story before the tragedy. It is Margaret’s way of telling her own story as an Edo born Nigerian. She explains that the poster was actually for a short film that was supposed to be shot but was put on hold because of the pandemic.

What better way to change the narrative than to educate? But how do you educate people on what they can’t even see or understand despite how much it affects them today? Emma Odumade captures this glitch in the system by depicting the after effects of the looting on education and African children, who he says he used to represent dreams. His works are set against the heavy backdrop of the past while projecting the uncertainty of the future especially for the younger, upcoming generation.

The ‘Re: Mediation’ exhibition is a very refreshing take on the conversation surrounding African art and it’s movements because it offers a contemporary yet genuine view on the topic. The works serve as an intermediary between a distant past and an uncertain yet inspiring future. ‘Re: Mediation’ commenced on the 26th of September, 2020 and showed at the African Artists’ Foundation until the 12th of October, 2020.