I came across Turgo Bastien work when I audited a Caribbean art history class in Jamaica at the Edna Manley College of the Visual and Performing Arts. It was my first opportunity to explore the work of Caribbean artists. We were given an exercise to find Caribbean artists whose work inspired us. I found Bastien through the titles of two pieces, ‘A call from Africa’ and ‘Another call from Africa’.
In Bastien’s work, I see the survival of the spirit of Africa, a wonderfully complex laying of references of a spiritual ancestral past that connects Haitian Bastien to the African motherland. I see African masks as they were intended to be seen, as part of a ceremonial costume used in religious and social events to represent the spirits of ancestors.
I see how the masks adapted in the Caribbean masquerade to survive attempts to destroy the African cultural identity. I see Lwalwa masks from tribes from the Democratic Republic of Congo and Angola, I see Ekpo Masquerade masks from the Nigerian Ibibio, I see Dan masks from Ivory Coast and Liberia and I see the patterns of Yoruba adire indigo-dyed cloth. I am also reminded of the masks I saw on the Yoruba performers, preparing for the Egungun festival in the Itoko area of Abeokuta, Nigeria, where I was researching adire cloths.
Bastien’s work inspires me because of my research and textile practice, exploring the lost Caribbean African identity. Bastien’s call from Africa does not come directly from Africa, but through ancestral memories, intuition, spiritual connection, and the rhythm and beat of the drum which transcends time and place. His work reveals the “… lines of continuities that still inform a memory in motion even as we seek new solutions to historical problems…”(Bastien, 2017).
The more I look at Bastien’s work the more I see. The more I see, the more I feel, the more I feel, the more I am connected.
Bastien, T. (2017). Turgobastien. [online] Turgobastien.com. Available at: http://www.turgobastien.com/ [Accessed 28 Nov. 2017].
Africa.uima.uiowa.edu. (2017). Art and Death in A Yoruba Community – Art & Life in Africa – The University of Iowa Museum of Art. [online] Available at: https://africa.uima.uiowa.edu/topic-essays/show/24 [Accessed 28 Nov. 2017].
Bastien, T. (2009). Another call from Africa. [image] Available at: https://artavita.com/artists/6668-turgo-bastien [Accessed 6 Jan. 2018].
A new year and a new start. Lots of creative projects on the go and I’m reflecting on last year’s activities and this year’s plans. I’m reorganising this space too. I guess I’m in a reflective and sentimental mood. I hope you’ll join me.
I’ve been invited to deliver another CIAD, Costume Institute of the African Diaspora Exchange talk. This time I’m focussing on my wonderful Winston Churchill Travel Fellowship in Nigeria, where I studied indigo dyeing techniques amongst Yorùbá artisans. Àdírẹ is the Yorùbá word for the resist dyed cloth made in Yorùbá towns in Nigeria. The cloth functions both as an aesthetic expression and a means of communication, offering a deep insight into Yorùbá religion, culture, folklore, and history. The talk includes short videos, photography, and music.
The event will be held at London College of Fashion, Rootstein Hopkins Space, 20 John Prince’s St, London W1G 0BJ. 5 mins walk from Oxford Circus Tube Station. Tickets are only £3 to cover refreshments but booking is essential.
The Lagos train also travels to Ìbàdàn, another enjoyable journey but because the train goes all the way to Kano it was absolutely packed. Ìbàdàn is another lovely station. I’m still looking for my photo of the magnificent vintage goods scale. I’ll post it when I find it. One of the reasons for visiting Ìbàdàn is because of its Àdírẹ history.
Ìbàdàn dun is one of the most well known àdìrẹ designs. The pattern is named after the city where it was produced and translates as Ìbàdàn is sweet or Ìbàdàn is a happy place. Ìbàdàn along with, Abeokuta, was one of the major centres of àdìrẹ making, especially the intricate freehand starch paste cloths known as àdìrẹ eleko.
The cloth is divided into a 52 piece grid decorated with 20 different patterns including representations of animals and flowers. The cloth takes its name from one square, which features four spoons representing the pillars of Mapo Hall, built in 1929 as the main administrative centre under British colonial rule. The Hall was also used to detain tax evaders. One of the àdìrẹ eleko makers told me about a song she remembers her father and grandfather singing. “Owo ori ti d’ ode o, o o’ode o baba wa loko san – payment of taxation has come, our fathers were the first to pay, the idiots and lazy ones who have not paid are in detention in Mapo”- “Awon ode ti o le san o, won nbe lati mole ni Mapo.” (Observe Nigeria, 2017) There is, of course, another side to the story of these onerous taxes particularly the impact on the àdìrẹ makers. The Bluest Hands by Judith Byfield documents this important perspective.
Mapo Hall was refurbished during the administration of Governor Alao Akala in 2008 and is now a great venue for important events including weddings and political rallies.
I couldn’t find any freehand àdìrẹ eleko artisans in Ìbàdàn but I think my search was hindered by a lack of time. I was pleased to find fermented indigo balls in the marketplace and I met an indigo farmer.
It’s been challenging accessing the internet whilst on the road in Nigeria so apologies for the gaps with my posts. I’m about to upload another post on The Yorùbá Blues, but in the meantime and staying with the Nigerian theme I’m sharing details of a wonderful exhibition launching this Saturday 29th April for those of you in London.
The artist Flo Awolaja uses African fabrics to create exciting abstract mosaic compositions “that hark back to West-African traditions of using textiles as a means of commemoration and communication, taking them and placing them in a contemporary setting”. The exhibition is the second part of her previous exhibition Making Stories and Telling Tales (Part I) which I saw at the Park Theatre, Finsbury Park. London and which really was as Flo described a “vibrant celebration reminding us that narrative is not always verbal, and to appreciate the contribution of African and Caribbean communities around the world”.
There’s a great review of her upcoming exhibition by Elise Markham on her wonderfully entitled blog Cinnamon & Brown and for more information on the venue Gida Collective
Flo also has various size fabric artworks for purchase at Gida and can do commissions with specific fabrics and colours. You can contact her directly on firstname.lastname@example.org or follow her on twitter @Maverikartz.
Abẹ́òkuta is about 100 kilometers from Lagos and is still is one of the major centres of àdìrẹ making. The journey should take about two hours by road except that my first trip took nearly five hours because of traffic congestion and uneven roads. I decided to make my return trip by train, leaving from Lagos Terminus, on Iddo Island, a district in Lagos Mainland. Iddo used to be an island, but following land reclamation, it’s now part of the rest of Lagos Mainland.
When I arrived at the station the engineers were still working on the train but the delay was only 30 minutes. The train was old, most definitely in need of investment, but the train and the station were clean. My fellow passengers were really friendly and helpful and actually, it was a really pleasant three-hour trip. Apart from some new seat covers the interior looked original, possibly 1950s and there was something quite romantic about its faded grandeur.
It was so nice to take a break from the heavily congested Nigerian roads. The train passed through lots of rural villages and towns where the landscape was green and lush with palm trees, banana trees, sugar cane and bamboo. The historic stations at Kajola and Ifaw Junction were particularly beautiful. I arrived in Abẹ́òkuta just before sunset and crossed the railway track with my suitcase as instructed by the helpful station staff who even negotiated a reasonable price for my taxi to the hotel.
Ogun State was created in 1976 with Abẹ́òkuta as its capital and largest city. The State is named after the Ogun river. The Yorùbá are the major ethnic nationality in Ogun State, comprising many subgroups including Ẹ̀gbá people. Abẹ́òkuta lies below the Olumo Rock, home to several caves and shrines. It was founded by Ẹ̀gbá people around 1830 seeking refuge from Yoruba civil wars. The name Abẹ́òkuta translates literally as the underneath the rock.
Abẹ́òkuta is a really interesting town. Not only is it the birthplace of some famous Nigerians including former president Olusegun Obasanjo, Afrobeat musician Fela Kuti and writer Wole Soyinka but it’s also home to some magnificent Brazilian and Cuban mansions built by returning former enslaved. There’s an excellent blog post on the history of Abẹ́òkuta on Fulbright scholar Kọ́lá Túbọ̀sún’s Travel Blog and a wonderful book called Ogun State published by Glendora Books.
It took a few trips to build up a relationship of trust with the àdìrẹ makers and to convey to them that as an indigo dyer and textile artist I was looking to document and exchange ideas on sustainable practices rather than copy their work. As an embroiderer and indigo dyer, the stitch workshop and dye compound were my favourite spots.
I also met the traditional àdìrẹ ẹlẹ́ko stencil maker and textile practitioner. His beautiful work really resonated with me, because of my first stencil àdìrẹ ẹlẹ́ko cloth.
le designFor those of you in Vancouver, I highly recommend checking out the first solo exhibition of fellow natural dyer Dawn Russell. Dawn has a wonderful organic approach to creating her work. She captures the beauty, colour and texture of nature with photography and sketches which she uses to inspire her very experimental, very exciting pieces, using only natural dye plants and natural fibres.