40 | 40 - in situ nkanga.pdf · wim van dongen previous spread: otobong nkanga, social conseauences...

40 | Afterall40 I Afterall

Artists: Otobong Nkanga | 41

Woe to those who, to the very end, insist on regulating the movement that exceeds them…— Georges Bataille 1

The last time I spoke with Otobong Nkanga, she told me that she does not like to write. She prefers the spoken word — the traditions of the griot, the storyteller, the advisor, the poet, the orator, but also the open-ended evolution of conversation and all forms of ephemeral verbalised exchange. In the space of one such recent dialogue (with one of the most prolific interviewers in our midst, Hans Ulrich Obrist), she elaborated: ‘I like talking but I don’t like writing. I think my brain goes a bit too fast and my hands are too slow.’2 I like how this points to a desire to consider hand activity and brain activity together. Sitting down, slowing down to write something of substance about this protean artist and the energies she is able to unleash, I am grimly aware that the reader

might here conclude that anything committed to print runs the risk of transmuting the artist’s work into something anathema to it. Writing and reading are linear forms, whereas the forms that Nkanga chooses for her work are anything but! Yet the challenge that this situation poses — with the potential for the printed word to arrest what Nkanga calls the ‘politics of flux’ — need not be paralysing.3 Rather, in thinking alongside

her work, I propose to give weight to spoken exchange by considering it as a key part of an overall economy of abundance.

Golden MomentsOne evening last winter, I visited the artist in Berlin to speak about her work. She had made a wonderful dinner — a stew of vegetables and lamb — which we consumed while speculating about how the yams and the okra had made their way to our table. As the evening wore on, sitting across a kitchen table, with our bellies full and our minds racing, she told me about Contained Measures of a Kolanut (2012). The kola nut is a key ingredient of ritual, hospitality, commerce, spirituality and community among many West African peoples and their neighbours or historical trading partners. For her work on the kola nut, Nkanga devised a setting, or installation, of two photo-collaged weavings (one depicting the kola tree and another portraying two girls with feet planted in the ground, like trees). There were also wooden furnishings that included a small table and two chairs connected by rectangular repositories for a growing collection of ethnographic, cartographic and botanical images, diagrams and texts, all mounted on plastic plates, as well as two varieties of the kola nut and a suspended decanter for dripping its amber-coloured extract onto handmade cotton paper. The sum of these parts was a complex figure of tectonic beauty but also precise functionality. One could sit comfortably at the table on the cushioned chairs and choose between the darker brown Cola acuminata and the lighter yellow, or cream, Cola nitida. Once the nut was chosen, it was cut in half with a knife — as a sign of respect, according to the custom of Nkanga’s Ibibio people — and then it was to be chewed slowly.

Exchange and Some Change: The Imaginative Economies of Otobong Nkanga— Monika Szewczyk

Monika Szewczyk looks at Otobong Nkanga’s ritual engagement with objects, arguing that her desire to put things back into circulation undoes the logic of accumulation of both art and capital.

1 Georges Bataille, The Accursed Share, Volume 1: Consumption (1949, trans. Robert Hurley), New York: Zone Books, 1991, p.6.2 Hans Ulrich Obrist in conversation with Otobong Nkanga at Forum, a collateral event of the 1:54 Contemporary African Art Fair, Somerset House, London, 17 October 2013, available at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=asqL6iwLHXw (last accessed on 14 August 2014). 3 Conversation with the artist, 26 November 2013.

Otobong Nkanga, Contained Measures of Shifting States, 2012, 8-hour performance and installation consisting of four tables of variable sizes, felt, ice, aspirator, aluminum metal strip, heating plate, glass containers and 100 inkjet prints on Forex plates. Installation view, ‘Across the Board: Politics of Representation’, Tate Modern, London, 2012. Photograph: Wim van Dongen

Previous spread: Otobong Nkanga, Social Consequences IV: The Takeover, 2013, round stickers and acrylic on paper, two parts, 29 × 42cm each. All images courtesy the artist; Lumen Travo Gallery, Amsterdam; and In Situ Fabienne Leclerc Gallery, Paris

Otobong Nkanga,Contained Measuresof Shilting States,2012, 8-hourper fo rmanceand i n s t a l l a t i o ncons is t ing of fourtables of var iablesizes, fe l t , ice,asp i ra tor, a l u m i n u mmeta l s t r i p ,hea t ing plate,glass conta inersand 100 i n k j e tp r i n t s on Forexplates. I n s t a l l a t i o nv iew, 'Across theBoard: Po l i t i cs ofRepresentat ion' ,Tate Modem, London,2012. Photograph:W i m van Dongen

Previous spread:Otobong Nkanga,Social ConseauencesIV: The Takeover,2013, round st ickersand acry l i c onpaper, two parts,29 x 42cm each.A l l images courtesythe a r t i s t ; LumenTravo Gal lery,Amsterdam;and I n Si tu FabienneLeclerc Gal lery, Paris

Exchange and Some Change:Ille Imaginative Economiesof Otobong Nkanga— Monika Szewczyk

Woe to those who, to the very end, insiston regulating the movement that exceedsthem...— Georges Bataille 1

The last time I spoke with Otobong Nkanga,she told me that she does flot lace towrite. She prefers the spoken word —the traditions of the griot, the storyteller,the advisor, the poet, the orator, but alsothe open-ended evolution of conversationand ail forms of ephemeral verbalisedexchange. In the space of one sueh reeentdialogue (with one of the most prolificinterviewers in our midst, Hans UlrichObrist), she elaborated: 'I like talking butI don't like writing. I think my brain goesa bit too fast and my hands are too slow.'2I like how this points to a desire to eonsiderhand aetivity and brain aetivity together.Sitting down, slowing down to writesomething of substance about this proteanartist and the energies she is able tounleash, I am grimly aware that the reader

Monika Szewczyk looks at OtobongNkanga's ritual engagement with objects,arguing that her de sire to put thingsback into circulation undoes the logicof accumulation of both art and capital.

might here conclude that anythingcommitted to print runs the risk oftransmuting the artist's work intosomething anathema to it. Writing andreading are linear forms, whereas theforms that Nkanga chooses for her workare anything but! Yet the challenge thatthis situation poses — with the potentialfor the printed word to arrest what Nkangacalls the 'polities of flux' n e e d flot beparalysing. 3 Rather, in thinking alongside

her work, I propose to give weight tospoken exchange by eonsidering it as a keypart of an overall eeonomy of abundance.

Golden MomentsOne evening last winter, I visited the artistin Berlin to speak about her work. Shehad made a wonderful dinner — a stew ofvegetables and lamb — whieh we eonsumedwhile speeulating about how the yams andthe okra had made their way to our table.As the evening wore on, sitting aeross akitchen table, with our bellies full and ourminds racing, she told me about ContainedMeasures of a Kolanut (2012). The kolanut is a key ingredient of ritual, hospitality,commerce, spirituality and eommunityamong many West African peoples andtheir neighbours or historieal tradingpartners. For her work on the kola nut,Nkanga devised a setting, or installation, oftwo photo-eollaged weavings (one depietingthe kola tree and another portraying twogirls with feet planted in the ground, liketrees). There were also wooden furnishingsthat included a small table and two chairsconnected by reetangular repositoriesfor a growing collection of ethnographie,cartographie and botanieal images,diagrams and texts, all mounted on plasticplates, as well as two varieties of the kolanut and a suspended decanter for drippingits amber-coloured extract onto handmadecotton paper. The sum of these parts vasa complex figure of tectonic beauty butalso preeise functionality. One eould siteomfortably at the table on the cushionedchairs and choose between the darkerbrown Cola acuminata and the lighteryellow, or eream, Cola nitida. Once thenut vas chosen, it was cut in half with aknife — as a sign of respect, aceording tothe custom of Nkanga's Ibibio people —and then it was to be ehewed slowly.

1 G e o r g e s Bataille, The Accursed Share, Volume 1: Consumption (1949, trans. Robert Hurley), New York:Zone Books, 1991, p.6.

2 H a n s Ulr ich Obrist in conversation w i t h Otobong Nkanga at Forum, a collateral event of the1:54 Contemporary Afr ican Art Fair, Somerset House, London, 17 October 2013, available athttps:((www.youtube.comiwatch?v=asqL6iwLHXw (last accessed on 14 August 2014).

3 C o n v e r s a t i o n w i t h the ar t is t , 26 November 2013.

Artists: Otobong Nkanga 141

42 | Afterall

All this was prepared as a stage for conversation. If a visitor did not partake of the kola nut, a truthful conversation between this person and the artist could not unfold. In the course of a performance that could last up to ten hours (requiring great endurance on the artist’s part, and interestingly also demonstratingthe stimulating powers of the kola nut), Nkanga engaged in a series of tête-à-têtes. Her interlocutors could choose from the plates, almost as one might choose a Tarot card from the deck, and through the free flow of words aided by images they learnt about aspects of what they just consumed, and therefore perhaps somehow about themselves. Here, a question arises: through such ritualised processes, might the dialogues, the stories exchanged, begin to feel weightier, more valuable — even a bit like gold, or other parts of the earth’s make-up that happen to shine and therefore tend to be valued, owned and traded?

The Precision–Possession DialecticHowever ironic the term ‘contained measures’ might at first sound in relation to this multivalent, boundlessly generative work, the title clues us into a desire, a search for more precise dimensions, not only of plants and minerals, I would argue, but of knowledge and experience. The term recurs in several titles given to works using the system of presentation found in Contained Measures of a Kolanut — namely, the modular table structures, which Nkanga likens to molecular models, ready to receive discrete specimen. In Contained Measures of Land (2008), developed for Casa África, Las Palmas de Gran Canaria, the presentation — part science laboratory, part market stall, part studio — served to symbolise the continual parsing of soil as territory and resource, and therefore as a source of competition and conflict. Long, sharp, wooden sticks, which prefigured the recurring use of needles in the artist’s work, pierced land in the installation — both

the soil gathered into small heaps in the atomised display and that represented in a series of drawings. One became acutely aware of how pinpointing something helps you own it. The complicity of the precarious piercing/pierced materials not only structured the allegory, it also made matters visceral, bringing temporally and geographically distant concerns close to home. For Contained Measures of Fragments of Pointe Noire (2009), Nkanga gathered eight distinct colours of earth that she found while on a residency in Pointe Noire, a coastal city of the Republic of Congo. Pointe Noire takes its name from its designation by Portuguese navigators as later translated by French colonisers, but black rocks are not the only geological chroma available in the city; Nkanga’s installation added shades of rust, brown and chalk into the mix. In an essay on the artist, Philippe Pirotte observed that, in contrast with the perverse drive to transform resources towards human ends, Nkanga creates a vehicle for showing and transporting that does not determine use value.4 Yet this is not to say that use is (in the venerable tradition of modern and contemporary art) prohibited. Quite the contrary, and this comes to the fore in her Contained Measures of Tangible Memories (2010–ongoing), where two mobile, rickshaw-like table constructions become the carriers of mica, black soap, Cassia fistula, indigo dye and alum specimen. With this installation, developed originally for the 2009 Arts in Marrakech (AiM) International Biennale, Nkanga first introduced the possibility of visitors applying to their skin minerals, like those which are commonly found in cosmetics. Here, beauty returns as the use value of art. The way the distinct components of Nkanga’s work actually work or animate her practice eludes art’s conventional trope of taking things out of circulation in order to make them more meaningful(as objects of pure contemplation).

4 See Philippe Pirotte, ‘Participation: A Legacy of Allan Kaprow’, in P. Pirotte (ed.), An Invention of Allan Kaprow for the Present Moment (exh. cat.), Bern: Kunsthalle Bern, 2009, pp.9—17. Pirotte’s text was written for a programme of new commissions that the Belgian curator developed at the Kunsthalle Bern in conjunction with the exhibition ‘Allan Kaprow: Art as Life’ (2 June—26 August 2007), for which he asked contemporary artists to reinterpret some of Kaprow’s scores. Nkanga chose to revisit Baggage (1972), a happening that originally involved twenty students from Rice University in Houston (where Kaprow was teaching) exchanging bags of sand from a campus construction site with bags of sand from a beach on the nearby island of Galveston. The work now resides in the annals of Conceptual art, performance and Land art — all relevant sources for Nkanga’s practice. And yet, for her reinvention of the happening, Nkanga exchanged land from the beaches of the Netherlands (where she was living) and the beaches of Nigeria (where she was born), folding into Kaprow’s gesture questions regarding displacement and exchange between Europe and Africa (e.g. one immediately thinks of the oil-drenched soil of the Niger Delta and the enterprise of Royal Dutch Shell).

Ali this vas prepared as a stage forconversation. If a visitor did flot partakeof the kola nut, a truthful conversationbetween this person and the artist couldflot unfold. In the course of a performancethat could last up to ten hours (requiringgreat endurance on the artist's part,and interestingly also demonstratingthe stimulating powers of the kola nut),Nkanga engaged in a series of tête-à-têtes.Her interlocutors could choose from theplates, almost as one might choose a Tarotcard from the deck, and through the freeflow of words aided by images they learntabout aspects of W.. hat they just consumed,and therefore perhaps somehow aboutthemseives. Here, a question arises:through such ritualised processes, mightthe dialogues, the stories exchanged, beginto feel weightier, more valuable — evena bit like gold, or other parts of the earth'smake-up that happen to shine and thereforetend lobe valued, ONN, ned and traded?

The Preeision-Possession DialeetieHowever ironic the term 'containedmeasures' might at first sound in relationto this multivalent, boundiessly generativework, the title dues us into a desire,a search for more precise dimensions,not only of plants and minerais, I wouldargue, but of imowledge and experience.The term recurs in several tales given toworks using the system of presentationfound in Contained Measures of a Kolanut— namely, the modular table structures,which Nkanga likens to molecularmodels, ready to receive discrete specimen.In Contained Measures ofkand (2008),developed for Casa Africa, Las Palmasde Gran Canaria, the presentation —part science laboratory, part marketstall, part studio — served to symbolisethe continuai parsing of soil as territoryand resource, and therefore as a sourceof competition and conflict. Long, sharp,wooden sticks, which prefigured therecurring use of needies in the artist's work,pierced land in the installation — both

the soil gathered into small heaps in theatomised display and that represented ina series of drawings. One became acutelyaware of how pinpointing something helpsyou own it. The complicity of the precariouspiercing/pierced materials not onlystructured the allegory, it also madematters visceral, bringing temporallyand geographically distant concerns closeto home.

For Contained Measures of Fragmentsof Pointe Noire (2009), Nkanga gatheredeight distinct colours of earth that shefound while on a residency in Pointe Noire,a coastal city of the Republic of Congo.Pointe Noire takes its name from itsdesignation by Portuguese navigatorsas later translated by French colonisers,but black rocks are not the (m'y geologicalchroma available in the city; Nkanga'sinstallation added shades of rust,brown and chalk into the mix. In an essayon the artist, Philippe Pirotte observedthat, in contrast with the perverse driveto transform resources towards humanends, Nkanga creates a vehicle for showingand transporting that does not determineuse value.4 Yet this is not to say that useis (in the venerable tradition of modernand contemporary art) probibited. Ouitethe contrary, and this cornes to the forein ber Contained Measures of TangibleMemories (2o io-ongoing), where twomobile, rickshaw-like table constructionsbecome the carriers of mica, black soap,Cassia fistula, indigo dye and alumspecimen. With this installation, developedoriginally for the 2009 Arts in Marrakech(AiM) International Biennale, Nkangafirst introduced the possibility of visitorsapplying to their sidn minerais, like thosewhich are commonly found in cosmetics.Here, beauty returns as the use value of art.

The way the distinct components ofNkanga's work actually work or animateber practice eludes art's conventionaltrope of taking things out of circulationin order to make them more meaningful(as objects of pure contemplation).

See Philippe Pirotte, 'Part icipation: A Legacy of Al len Kaprow', in P. Pirotte (ed.), An Invention of ManKaprosa for the Present Moment (exh. cat.), Bern: Kunsthalle Bern, 2009, pp .9 -17 . Pirotte's text wasw r i t t e n for a programme of new commissions that the Belgian curator developed at the KunsthalleBern in conjuunction w i t h the exhibit ion 1Allan Kaprow: Ar t as Life' (2 l u n e - 2 6 August 2007),for which he asked contemporary artists to reinterpret some of Kaprow's scores. Nkanga chose torev is i t Baggage (1972), a happening that or ig ina l ly involved twenty students from Rire Universi tyi n Houston (where Kaprow was teaching) exchanging bags of sand from a campus construction sitew i t h bags of sand from a beach on the nearby island of Galveston. The work now resides i n the annalsof Conceptual art, performance and Land art — a i l relevant sources for Nkanga's practice. And yet,for her reinvention of the happening, Nkanga exchanged land from the beaches of the Netherlands(where she was l iv ing) and the beaches of Nigeria (where she was born), folding into Kaprow's gesturequestions regarding displacement and exchange between Europe and Afr ica (e.g. one immediatelyth inks of the oil-drenched sou l of the Niger Delta and the enterprise of Royal Dutch Shell).

42 I Afterall


Connected through networked lines or even, at times, physically merging, Nkanga’s crisply outlined drawings of limbs and plants, torsos and oil tanks, buildings and other symbolic fragments take on a diagrammatic, almost instruc-tional quality while mustering traumatic allusions. We see some forms echoed in sculptures, underscoring the status of the drawings not so much as autonomous images but as architectonic plans for things in other dimensions. Their preparatory quality is also emphasised by the dabs of colour found in most of the two-dimensional works, making them function as palette and picture in one stroke. What the

artist appears to be building here is an emblematics of colonial capitalism. The drawing The Limits of Mapping (2009–10), which features the artist’s signature needles piercing a cartographic structure, accentuates the drive for precision in the interest of possession embedded in any map. And yet, this symbolic replay of colonial tactics hints towards something altogether different, more tropical perhaps; Nkanga’s works work through colonial tropes (separating so as to invade and possess or even critique) to voice a desire not to own but to permeate the world, to seek connections.

Otobong Nkanga, Social Consequences I: Limits of Mapping, 2009, round stickers and acrylic on paper, 42 × 29cm

Otobong Nkanga,Social ConseauencesLimits of Mapping,2009, round stickersand acrylic onpaper, 42 x 29cm

Connected through networked finesor even, at times, physically merging,Nkanga's crisply outlined drawingsof limbs and plants, torsos and ou l tanks,buildings and other symbolic fragmentstake on a diagrammatic, almost instruc-tional quality while mustering traumaticallusions. We sec some forms echoedin sculptures, underscoring the status ofthe drawings flot so much as autonomousimages but as architectonic plans for thingsin other dimensions. Their preparatoryquality is also emphasised by the dabs ofcolour found in most of the tyvo-dimensionalworks, making them function as paletteand picture in one stroke. What the

artist appears to be building here isan emblematics of colonial capitalism.The drawing 7he Limits oPlapping(20 c 9-1o), which features the artist'ssignature needles piercing a cartographicstructure, accentuates the drive forprecision in the interest of possessionembedded in any map. And yet, thissymbolic replay of colonial tactics hintstowards something altogether different,more tropical perhaps; Nkanga's workswork through colonial tropes (separatingso as to invade and possess or evencritique) to voice a desire not to ONVIIbut to permeate the world, to seekconnections.


44 | Afterall

Measures to Pleasures In all this talk of precision and possession one is not left with absolute pain. On the contrary, Nkanga’s work is as attentive to the sorrowful stories of colonial exploitation (or the use of intellectual and brute weapons forged over the centuries for the purposes of dividing and conquering) as she is to the enjoyment of rituals that constitute an alternative knowledge — a libidinal economy with a notion of resources that turns the tables on centuries-long imaginings of scarcity. Consider two early connected works, Awaiting Pleasures (2002) and Perfect Measures (2003), which she developed for an open studios

presentation at the Rijksakademie in Amsterdam and the Palais des Beaux-Arts in Brussels, respectively, and which already featured the network of modular tables that would later become a staple of her Contained Measures series. While the first constituted a three-dimensional sketchbook, inviting visitors to partake in the artist’s thought processes as well as offering her an opportunity to observe their responses, the second (developed out of the first) allowed for the artist herself to occupy the surfaces en pointe (another mark of precision and often pain, but also poise, beauty, idealism, balance and, perhaps most importantly, self-possession).

Otobong Nkanga, Contained Measures of a Kolanut, 2012, performance and installation. Installation view, ‘Tropicomania: The Social Life of Plants’, Bétonsalon, Paris, 2012

5 In a conversation with the author in May 2014, the artist expressed a determination to continue the development of her projects, including their stages of completion, outside the strictures of exhibition calendars. We might consider all the works discussed in this text as pursuing a different temporal measure, one determined less by clockwork than by something we might describe as the workings of presence.

Measures to PleasuresIn ail this talk of precision and possessionone is flot left with absolute pain. On thecontrary, Nkanga's work is as attentive tothe sorrowful stories of colonial exploitation(or the use of intellectual and bruteweapons forged over the centuries forthe purposes of dividing and conquering)as she is to the enjoyment of rituals thatconstitute an alternative knowledge — alibidinal economy with a notion of resourcesthat turns the tables on centuries-longimaginings of scarcity. Consider two earlyconnected works, Awaiting Pleasures(2002) and Perfect Measures (2003),Nvhich she developed for an open studios

44 I Afterall

presentation at the Rijksakademie inAmsterdam and the Palais des Beaux-Artsin Brussels, respectively, and which alreadyfeatured the network of modular tablesthat would later become a staple of herContained Measures series. While thefirst constituted a three-dimensionalsketchbook, inviting visitors to partakein the artist's thought processes as wellas offering her an opportunity to observetheir responses, the second (developed outof the first) allowed for the artist herselfto occupy the surfaces en pointe (anothermark of precision and often pain, butalso poise, beauty, idealism, balance and,perhaps most importantly, self-possession).

5 I n a conversation w i t h the author in May 2014, the art ist expressed a determination to continuethe development of her projects, including their stages of completion, outside the strictures ofexhibi t ion calendars. We might consider ai l the works discussed i n this text as pursuing a differenttemporal measure, one determined less by clockwork than by something we might describe as theworkings of presence.

Otobong Nkanga,Contained Measuresof a Kolanut, 2012,per fo rmanceand i n s t a l l a t i o n .I n s t a l l a t i o n v iew,'Trop icoman ia :The Social L i fe ofPlants ' , Bétonsalon,Paris, 2012


Looking back to these early presentations, it is as if there has been a continuous project underfoot; no single work marks an acme of completion and containment.5 An ideal may never be fully achieved, nor is a stasis desired — rather, the point (and there is one) seems to be to maintain a dialectic, a movement, a dance to suit ever-shifting circumstances. The needle already appears in Nkanga’s early work: in one of the drawings accompanying Awaiting Pleasures, a large one is shown ready to prick a girl who turns away even as she holds out her one unbandaged hand for contact. The point of pain is also the point of pleasure. Still heeding the artist’s statement that what she awaits is pleasure, one can trace the continuity of this imperative throughout her work. One notable recent instance was her performance Glimmer (2013) at the Akademie der Künste in Berlin, where Nkanga wore a special circular table contraption around her midriff that allowed her to, among other things, display certain lit-up phrases:

‘Clap for the Present’, ‘Clap for the Future’. And we all did, sometimes hollering, as much of Nkanga’s performative genius lies in the infusion of an excess happiness in those present around her. Much of the performance involved this direct exchange with the audience, but there were also haunting songs rendered all the more magical as the artist performed them covered in glitter and with a light in her mouth. The whole thing might have felt excessive — all too mystical — until one recognised a deep-seated desire on the

artist’s part to proclaim that there is no finite measure to the pleasure available to people working in concert with minerals, memories and the desire to draw on the infinite resources of their combined energy.

Tripping Did I just trip up and say too much? I don’t mean to sound trippy. Or maybe I do, but in a more down-to-earth way 6 — for the artist in question has travelled a great deal. Born in Kano, in northern Nigeria, Nkanga moved to Paris as a teenager, then returned to study for two years at the Fine Arts Department of the Obafemi Awolowo University in Ile-Ife, in Nigeria’s southwestern Osun State. Returning to Paris, she committed to an artistic education at the École nationale supérieure des Beaux-Arts. Admitted to the Rijksakademie, she next moved to Amsterdam, where she stayed after her two-year residency to take up Advanced Studies in the Performing Arts at DasArts. Then she taught at the Gerrit Rietveld Academie, also in Amsterdam, although by this time she had already moved to Antwerp, which remains her base, though recently she completed the one-year DAAD programme in Berlin — one of several residencies that have taken her to such disparate locales as Houilles, near Paris; Pointe Noire; and Curaçao, in the Dutch Caribbean. These long-term residences do not account for the distant corners of the planet (Sharjah, Lagos, São Paulo, Belo Horizonte, Stockholm, Singapore, New York, Havana, Las Palmas, Dakar, Bamako, Gothenburg, Reno and many places between) where the artist and her work have also journeyed and taken shape. If it is banal to talk about ‘globalisation’ in the abstract, and not unusual for today’s artists to travel far and wide, Nkanga’s approach encourages the writer to exercise some exactitude before claiming that this particular artist’s research reflects a constant movement around the planet and a simultaneous resistance to conventional mapping.

6 Others have convincingly written on Nkanga’s art as earthworks, bereft of the colonial tinge and macho bravado of certain practitioners of the 1970s. See, for example, Dieter Roelstraete, ‘Future Greats: Otobong Nkanga’, ArtReview, vol.66, no.2, p.88; Clémentine Deliss and Yvette Mutumba (ed.), Foreign Exchange/Ware & Wissen (or the stories you wouldn’t tell a stranger) (exh. cat.), Zurich and Frankfurt: Diaphanes and Weltkulturen Museum, 2014; and Karen E. Milbourne, ‘Strategies of the Surface’, in K. Milbourne (ed.), Earth Matters: Land as Material and Metaphor in the Arts of Africa (exh. cat.), New York and Washington DC: Monacelli and National Museum of African Art, 2014. I am trying to cover somewhat different ground (pardon the pun).

Otobong Nkanga’s work is as attentive to the sorrowful stories of colonial exploitation as to the enjoyment of rituals — a libidinal economy whose notion of resources turns the tables on centuries-long imaginings of scarcity.

Looking back to these early presentations,it is as if there bas been a continuonsproject underfoot; no single work marksan acme of completion and containment.An ideal may never be fully achieved,nor is a stasis desired — rather, the point(and there is one) seems to be to maintaina dialectic, a movement, a dance to suitever-shifting circumstances. The needlealready appears in Nkanga's early work:in one of the drawings accompanyingAwaiting Pleasures, a large one is shownready tu prick a girl ' h o turns away ewnas she holds out her one unbandaged bandfor contact. The point of pain is also thepoint of pleasure.

Still heeding the artist's statementthat what she awaits is pleasure, onecan trace the continuity of this imperativethroughout her work. One notable recentinstance vas ber performance Glimmer(2013) at the Akademie der Kfinste inBerlin, where Nkanga wore a specialcircular table contraption around bermidriff that allowed her tu, among otherthings, display certain lit-up phrases:

Otobong Nkanga's work isas attentive to the sorrowfulstories of colonial exploitationas to the enjoyment of rituals— a libidinal economy whosenotion of resources turnsthe tables on centuries-longimaginings of scarcity.

'Clap for the Present', 'Clap for the Future'.And we ail did, sometimes hollering, asmuch of Nkanga's performative geniuslies in the infusion of an excess happinessin those present around ber. Much of theperformance involved this direct exchangewith the audience, but there were alsohaunting songs rendered ail the moremagical as the artist performed themcovered in glitter and with a light in bermouth. The whole thing might have feltexcessive — ah l too mystical — until onerecognised a deep-seated desire on the

artist's part tu proclaim that there is nofinite measure tu the pleasure availabletu people working in concert with minerais,memories and the desire tu draw on theinfinite resources of their combined energy.

TrippingDid I just trip up and sa)' too much?I dont mean tu sound trippy. Or maybeI do, but in amure down-tu-earth way 6— for the artist in question bas travelleda great deal. Born in Kano, in northernNigeria, Nkanga moved tu Paris as ateenager, then returned tu study for twoyears at the Fine Arts Department of theObafemi Awolowo University in Ile-Ife,in Nigeria's southwestern Osun State.Returning tu Paris, she committed tuan artistic education at the École nationalesupérieure des Beaux-Arts. Admittedtu the Rijksakademie, she next movedtu Amsterdam, W.. here she stayed aber bertwo-year residency tu take up AdvancedStudies in the Performing Arts at DasArts.Then she taught at the Gerrit RietveldAcademie, also in Amsterdam, althoughby this time she had already moved tuAntwerp, which remains ber base, thoughrecently she completed the one-yearDAAD programme in Berlin — one ofseveral residencies that have taken bertu such disparate locales as Houilles,near Paris; Pointe Noire; and Curaçao,in the Dutch Caribbean. These long-termresidences do not account for the distantcorners of the planet (Sharjah, Lagos,S'a() Paulo, Belo Horizonte, Stockholm,Singapore, New York, Havana, Las Palmas,Dakar, Bamako, Gothenburg, Reno andmany places betw.• een) where the artistand ber work have also journeyed andtaken shape. I f it is banal tu talk about'globalisation' in the abstract, and notunusual for today's artists tu travel farand wide, Nkanga's approach encouragesthe writer tu exercise some exactitudebefore claiming that this particularartist's research reflects a constantmovement around the planet and asimultaneous resistance tu conventionalmapping.

6 O t h e r s have convincingly wr i t ten on Nkanga's art as earthworks, bereft of the colonial tinge and machobravado of certain practit ioners of the 1970s. See, for example, Dicter Roelstraete, 'Future Greats:Otobong Nkanga', ArtRevient, vol.66, no.2, p.88, Clémentine Deliss and Yvette Mutumba (cd.), ForeignExchange(Ware Fa Wissen (or the stories you wouldn't te l a stranger)(exh. cat.), Zurich and Frankfurt:Diaphanes and Weltkul turen Museum, 2014; and Karen E. Milbourne, 'Strategies of the Surface',i n K. Mi lbourne (cd.), Earth Matters: Land as Material and Met aphor in the Arts of Africa (exh. cat.),New York and Washington DC: Monacell i and National Museum of Afr ican Art, 2014.1 am t ry ingto cover somewhat different ground (pardon the pun).


Artists: Otobong Nkanga | 47Artists: Otobong Nkanga 147

48 | Afterall

On the present journey throughNkanga’s work, I continue to return to Contained Measures of a Kolanut, as the iconographic, structural and performative dimensions of this work condense a lot of her experiments to date. The importance of the simple exchange of ideas across a table — ritualised through the precise performative installation so as to open up and connect the casual tête-à-tête to the invaluable knowledge transmitted via oral traditions — comes to the fore and it is not easily ascribed to some pat notion of the interactive or the relational. The great confusion of cartographers comes from a blind spot: the lack of recognition of the possible expansion of their fields, which already finds its expression in alternative maps that forgo the compass for other co-ordinates that merge stories, histories, myths and territories as well as habits or rituals of movement.7 Similarly, critics or historians of contemporary art will trip up if their coordinates are limited to available nom-enclature. In order to begin to understand the actual territory being covered by this artist’s work, then, a transformation may be required of how we behave (with art).

What’s (with) the Use?Choosing the kola nut as a subject or rather a kernel of knowledge and experience, Nkanga began her research at the historical library of the Centre for International Cooperation in Agronomic Research for Development, located in the former Colonial Experimental Garden, known today as the Garden of Tropical Agronomy, in the Bois de Vincennes on the outskirts of Paris. It was here that she gathered many of the materials that she transformed into image-plates for Contained Measures of a Kolanut : botanical illustrations, ethnographic photographs and maps, which became catalysts for conversation. Thus, the worldly wisdom Nkanga accumulates and transmits continues to rub up against institutions whose expressed aim is the thorough cataloguing and mapping of the planet. They, too, have produced ‘contained measures’: their archives yield oodles of information about the origins, properties and cultivation of so many forms of worldly inhabitants (e.g. plant life). What could be missing? Most notably, institutions which prioritise cataloguing and mapping tend

Otobong Nkanga, The Operation, 2008, orange tree roots, Tillandsia plants, stainless steel needles, 150 × 200 × 70cm

Previous spread: Otobong Nkanga, Taste of a Stone: Itiat Esa Ufok, 2013, 5—9-hour performanceand installation consisting of 12 rocks from Fujairah mountain, white pebbles, 18 photographs and 10 poems inkjetprinted on Galala limestone, Protasparagus densiflorus, Aptenia cordifloria, Carpobrotus glaucescens, Carica papaya, Mangifera indica and Cestrum nocturnum. Performance view, Sharjah Biennial 11, 2013

7 See Andie Diane Palmer, Maps of Experience: The Anchoring of Land to Story in Secwepemc Discourse, Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2005.

On the present journey throughNkanga's work, I continue to return toContained Measures of a Kolanut, as theiconographie, structural and performativedimensions of this work condense a lot ofher experiments to date. The importanceof the simple exchange of ideas acrossa table — ritualised through the preeiseperformative installation so as to open upand eonnect the easual tête-à-tête to theinvaluable lmowledge transmitted via oraltraditions — contes to the fore and it is floteasily aseribed to some pat notion of theinteractive or the relational. The greatconfusion of cartographers contes froma blind spot: the laek of recognition of thepossible expansion of their fields, whichalready finds its expression in alternativemaps that forgo the eompass for other co-ordinates that merge stories, histories, mythsand territories as well as habits or rituals ofmovement. Similarly, crities or historiansof contemporary art will trip up if theircoordinates are limited to available nom-enclature. In order to begin to understandthe aetual territory being eovered by thisartist's work, then, a transformation maybe required of how we behave (with art).

What's (with) the Use?Choosing the kola nut as a subject or rathera kernel of knowledge and experience,Nkanga began ber research at the historicallibrary of the Centre for InternationalCooperation in Agronomie Researchfor Development, located in the formerColonial Experimental Garden, laum ntoday as the Garden of Tropical Agronomy,in the Bois de Vincennes on the outsldrtsof Paris. It vas here that she gathered manyof the materials that she transformed intoimage-plates for Contained Measuresof a Kolanut: botanieal illustrations,ethnographie photographs and maps,whieh beeame catalysts for conversation.Thus, the worldly wisdom Nkangaaccumulates and transmits continues torub up against institutions whose expressedaim is the thorough cataloguing andmapping of the planet. They, too, haveprodueed 'contained measures': theirarchives yield oodles of information aboutthe origins, properties and cultivationof so many forms of worldly inhabitants(e.g. plant hile). What eould be missing?

Most notably, institutions whichprioritise cataloguing and mapping tend

7 S e e Andie Diane Palmer, Maps of Experiencei The Anchoring of Land to Story in Segiuepemc Discourse,Toronto: Universi ty of Toronto Press, 2005.

48 I Afterall

Otobong Nkanga,The Operation,2008, orange treeroots, Tillandsiaplants, stainlesssteel needles,150 x 200 x 70cm

Previous spread:Otobong Nkanga,Taste of a Stone:I t iat Esa Ufok,2013, 5-9-hourperformanceand installationconsisting of12 rocks fromPufairah mountain,white pebbles,18 photographs and10 poems inkjetprinted on Galalalimestone,Protasparagusdensillorus,ApteniaCarpobrotusglaucescens,Carica papaya,Mangifera indica andCestrum nocturnum.Performance view,Sharjah Biennial 11,2013


to forgo or forget, or simply exclude on a structural level, an investment in actual use, in practice, interpretation and ritual, including rituals of consumption — all key ingredients of Nkanga’s work. The fact that she continues to use the materials accumulated by colonial institutions should not be slotted in the drawer of institutional critique. It rather marks a refusal to discount any material already in existence as a kind of cognitive currency, which is to say, a token without fixed meaning but with a potential to generate value in the process of trades, swaps, discussions, chit-chat and other means of exchange. As institutions take images and objects out of circulation, they discard them as such forms of currency. But, interestingly, if a critical perspective on colonial forms of accumulation and display is a by-product

or surplus associated with Nkanga’s work, this is not where her art stops working — it is where, I would argue, it works most miraculously. At stake here is a worldly wisdom that, like capitalism, is based on rituals of exchange.8 And this brings me to Karl Marx’s thoughts on the commodity, which constitute a kind of intellectual currency and remain in circulation, but perhaps at the expense of thinking otherwise. It would take much more time and space to address more fully the aesthetic and intellectual exchange pointing in this alternate direction, and I am just at the beginning of getting my head around this critical mass of ideas.9 But perhaps it can be accessed for the time being with something of a story about the turn Marx took when thinking of commodities and tables.

Otobong Nkanga, Taste of a Stone: Room I, 2010, installation consisting of wood and inkjet prints on Galala limestone slabs, detail. Installation view, ‘Make Yourself at Home’, Kunsthal Charlottenborg, Copenhagen, 2010

8 This is true of Contained Measures of a Kolanut, but also of works that extend the logic of this project, wherein Nkanga will trade stories for objects even more directly. Currently in development is a work, which will premiere at the 31st Bienal de São Paulo in the autumn of 2014, cogently titled Landversations. To realise this experiment in dialogue with and through materials, Nkanga will engage different persons who each have a strong connection to the land (a geographer, a botanist, a farmer, a miner or archaeologist, an eco-psychologist). Out of their accounts she will forge objects — always central to the seemingly elusive and ephemeral oral tradition, she has told me — that will form part of an installation centred around a circular table structure. Here the artist’s ability to give form to processes of dialogue, translation, knowledge exchange and tradition, wherein oral histories turned into objects help to imagine alternate relations to the world, is reaching for a new level of refinement. Conversation with the artist, 4 July 2014. 9 The anthropologist Michael Taussig, the art historian Christina Kiaer, the philosopher Quentin Meillassoux, the curator Anselm Franke and the artists Liam Gillick and Theaster Gates — in very different ways — are contributing to this critical mass.

Otobong Nkanga,Taste of a Stone:Room I, 2010,i n s t a l l a t i o ncons is t ing of woodand i n k j e t p r i n t son Galala l imestoneslabs, deta i l .I n s t a l l a t i o n v iew,'Make Yourse l f atHome', Kunstha lChar lot tenborg,Copenhagen, 2010

zrz.—

to forgo or forget, or simply exclude ona structural level, an investment in actualuse, in practice, interpretation and ritual,including rituals of consumption — ail keyingredients of Nkanga's work. The factthat she continues to use the materialsaccumulated by colonial institutions shouldnot be slotted in the drawer of institutionalcritique. It rather marks a refusai todiscount any material already in existenceas a kind of cognitive currency, whichis to say, a token without fuoed meaningbut with a potential to generate value inthe process of trades, swaps, discussions,chit -chat and other means of exchange.As institutions take images and objectsout of circulation, they discard them assuch forms of currency. But, interestingly,i f a critical perspective on colonial formsof accumulation and display is a by-product

or surplus associated with Nkanga's work,this is not Where ber art stops working —it is where, I would argue, it works mostmiraculously. At stake here is a worldlywisdom that, like capitalism, is based onrituals of exchange.8

And this brings me to Karl Marx'sthoughts on the commodity, whichconstitute a kind of intellectual currencyand remain in circulation, but perhaps atthe expense of thinking otherwise. It wouldtake much more time and space to addressmore fully the aesthetic and intellectualexchange pointing in this alternatedirection, and I am just at the beginningof getting my head around this criticalmass of ideas.9 But perhaps it can beaccessed for the time being with somethingof a story about the turn Marx took whenthinking of commodities and tables.

8 T h i s is truc of Contained Measures of a Kolanut, but also of works that extend the logic of this project,wherein Nkanga w i l l trade stories for objects even more directly. Currently in development is awork, which w i l l premiere at the 31st Bienal de Sis Paulo in the autumn of 2014, cogently t i t ledLandversations. To realise this experiment in dialogue w i t h and through materials, Nkanga w i l lengage different persons who each have a strong connection to the land (a geographer, a botanist,a farmer, a miner or archaeologist, an eco-psychologist). Out of their aCCO-Unts she w i l l forge objects— always central to the seemingly elusive and ephemeral oral t radi t ion, she has told me — that w i l lform part of an instal lat ion centred around a C iYŒU la r table structure. Here the artist 's ab i l i t y to giveform to processes of dialogue, translation, knowledge exchange and tradi t ion, wherein oral historiesturned into objects help to imagine alternate relations to the world, is reaching for a new level ofrefinement. Conversation w i t h the art ist, 4 Uuly 2014.

9 T h e anthropologist Michael Taussig, the art histor ian Christ ina Kiaer, the philosopher QU entinMeillassoux, the curator Anselm Franke and the artists Liam Gi l l i ck and Theaster Gates — in verydifferent ways — are contr ibuting to this cr i t i ca l mass.

Artists: Otobong Nkanga I 49

50 | Afterall

Turning TablesHere is the German economic philosopher writing on ‘The Fetishism of Commodities and the Secret Thereof’:

A commodity appears, at first sight, a very trivial thing, and easily understood. Its analysis shows that it is, in reality, a very queer thing, abounding in metaphysical subtleties and theological niceties. So far as it is a value in use, there is nothing mysterious about it, whether we consider it from the point of view that by its properties it is capable of satisfying human wants, or from the point that those properties are the product of human labour. It is as clear as noon-day, that man, by his industry, changes the forms of the materials furnished by Nature, in such a way as to make them useful to him. The form of wood, for instance, is altered by making a table out of it. Yet, for all that, the table continues to be that common, everyday thing, wood. But, so soon as it steps forth as a commodity, it is changed into something transcendent. It not only stands with its feet on the ground, but, in relation to all other commodities, it stands on its head, and evolves out of its wooden brain grotesque ideas, far more wonderful than ‘table-turning’ ever was.10

The last time I saw the work of Otobong Nkanga — her installation In Pursuit of Bling (2014) was at the 8th Berlin Biennale — I was struck by how much she had invested in the will of (seemingly) inanimate things. In one of the videos accompanying an array that could be called ‘contained measures of bling’ (which included a shiny slab of mica floating and rotating as if by magic11), she addresses the severed copper spire of the Kaiser-Wilhelm-Gedächtniskirche12 amongst other similar ‘man-made mountains’ in Berlin, asking how the material (the copper carbonates azurite and malachite) got there, how it symbolises or materialises colonial glory and whether it has a memory of the mined earth that housed it for millennia — notably the fabled Green Hill of Tsumeb, Namibia, praised in the 1890s as the world’s richest mine but completely depleted only a century later. Standing amidst In Pursuit of Bling, one looked around and wondered at all the other material memories. An expansive, connective, permeating logic is at work in Nkanga’s merging with objects, plants and indeed glitter — that strange cipher of abundance in times of scarcity. Beyond commodification in the Marxist sense, what we seem to be witnessing is a form of camaraderie.13

Otobong Nkanga, In Pursuit of Bling, 2014, video, sound, 13min, still

10 Karl Marx, Capital, vol.I, Capitalist Production (trans. Samuel Moore and Edward Aveling), London: Lawrence and Wishart, 1959, p.76. Note that ‘table-turning’ was the colloquial term for a seance in Marx’s time. 11 The effect was achieved with magnets.12 The Kaiser-Wilhelm-Gedächtniskirche is a Protestant memorial church that was partly destroyed in the air raids of World War II.

Turning TablesHere is the German economic philosopherwriting on 'The Fetishism of Commoditiesand the Secret Thereof:

A commodity appears, at first sight, a verytrivial thing, and easily understood. Itsanalysis shows that it is, in reality, a veryqueer thing, abounding in metaphysicalsubtleties and theologi cal niceties. So faras it is a value in use, there is nothingmysterious about it, whether we considerit from the point of view that by itspro perties it is capable of satisfyinghumanwants, or from the point that thosepro perties are the product of humanlabour. It is as clear as noon-day, thatman, by his indus try, changes the formsof the materials furnished by Nature, insuch a way as to make them useful to him.7he form of wood, for instance, is alteredby making a table out of it. Yet, for all that,the table continues to be that common,evelyday thing, wood. But, so soon as itsteps forth as a commodity, it is changedinto something transcendent. It not onlystands with its feet on the ground, but, inrelation to all other commodities, it standson its head, and evolves out of its woodenbrain grotesque ideas , far more wonderfulthan 'table-turning' ever was.'

50 I Afterall

The last time I saw the work of OtobongNkanga — her installation In Pursuit ofBling (2014) vas al the 8th Berlin Biennale— I was struek by how much she hadinvested in the will of (seemingly) inanimatethings. In one of the videos accompanyingan array that eould be ealled 'containedmeasures of bling' (whieh included a shinyslab of mica floating and rotating as ifby magie"), she addresses the severedeopper spire of the Kaiser-Wilhelm-Gedâchtnisldrehe" amongst other similar'man-made mountains' in Berlin, askinghow the material (the eopper carbonatesazurite and malachite) got there, how itsymbolises or materialises colonial gloryand whether it basa memory of the minedearth that housed it for millennia — notablythe fabled Green Hill of Tsumeb, Namibia,praised in the 189os as the world's richestmine but completely depleted only acentury later. Standing amidst In Pursuitof Bling, one looked around and wonderedat ail the other material memories.

An expansive, connective, permeatinglogie is at work in Nkanga's merging withobjects, plants and indeed glitter — thatstrange eipher of abundance intimesof scareity. Beyond commodification inthe Marxist sense, what we seem to bewitnessing is a form of camaraderie.13

10 K a r l Marx, Capital, vol.I, Cap italist Production (trans. Samuel Moore and Edward Aveling), London:Lawrence and Wishart, 1959, p.76. Note that ' table-turning' was the colloquial term for a seancei n Marx's t ime.

11 T h e effect was achieved w i th magnets.12 T h e Kaiser-Wilhelm-Gedâchtniskirche is a Protestant memorial church that was partly destroyed

i n the air raids of World War I I .

Otobong Nkanga,In Pursuit of Bling,2014, video, sound,13min, st i l l


If Marx, Freud and so many anthropologists after them have pathologised relations to objects as fetishism, we might ask if their theories have addressed the kind of affective, even affectionate energy that Nkanga imparts on minerals, materials and florae. Departing from critical tradition, even if she is well schooled in it, she chooses rather to inspire, to raise the bar of possibility for a form of exchange that exploits the traditional (even the ancient) and the transformative (maybe even transcendent) sides of the process of transmutation we call commodification. Uprooted but determined to remain in cahoots with the world around her, it is as if she too understands herself as that source of power, a resource. Marx was weary of magical thinking, or he at least wanted to get beyond ‘table-turning’, and therefore beyond that attempt to connect (to ancestors, but also perhaps to tables), which early colonial and Industrial Age Europeans ritualised via the seance. I suspect that he was afraid of the unfreedom implied in somehow being possessed by a spirit, by an object — all the while shackling himself entirely to a kind of empirical reason tailored to imperialism. Did he take a turn that limited the imagination? A different notion of possession is offered within the oral traditions that Nkanga belongs to; it is cogently expressed by an elder in the novel Anthills of the Savannah (1987) by the Nigerian and Igbo writer Chinua Achebe: ‘the story is our escort; without it, we are blind. Does the blind man own his escort? No, neither do we the story; rather it is the story that owns us and directs us.’14 One can see this logic of possession operating in Nkanga’s willingness to ask and listen to copper or to put a kola nut at the centre of the story. The possession, the seance, the surreal or the fantastic are present alongside scientific data, materials and images, not as opiates but as openings to another understanding of worldly relations. And so, present in a literal sense in the modular and thereby mobile wooden furnishings of Otobong Nkanga’s installations, the proverbial tables continue turning…

13 This recalls the notion of objects less as tools than as friends or comrades that Boris Arvatov put forward in the mid-1920s, the period of the most adventurous post-revolutionary socioeconomic experimentation before Stalinism set in. See B. Arvatov, ‘Everyday Life and the Culture of the Thing (Toward the Formulation of the Question)’ (1925, trans. Christina Kiaer), October, vol.81, Summer 1997, pp.119—28. Nkanga, however, moves beyond theory into practice, relying less on the Russian linguist’s ideas than on age-old traditions passed down through the necessarily performative oral culture that she grew up with in her native Nigeria.14 Chinua Achebe, Anthills of the Savannah (1987), New York: Anchor Books, 1988, p.114.

I f Marx, Freud and so many anthropologistsaber them have pathologised relationsto objects as fetishism, we might ask iftheir theories have addressed the kindof affective, even affectionate energy thatNkanga imparts on minerais, materialsand florae. Departing from criticaltradition, even if she is well schooled in it,she chooses rather to inspire, to raise thebar of possibility for a form of exchangethat exploits the traditional (even theancient) and the transformative (maybeeven transcendent) sides of the processof transmutation we call commodification.Uprooted but determined to remain incahoots with the world around ber, it is asi f she too understands herself as that sourceof power, a resource.

Marx vas weary of magical thinking,orbe at least wanted to get beyond 'table-turning', and therefore beyond that attemptto connect ancestors, but also perhaps totables), which early colonial and IndustrialAge Europeans ritualised via the seance. Isuspect that he vas afraid of the unfreedomimplied in somehow being possessed by aspirit, by an object — ail the while shacklinghimself entirely to a kind of empiricalreason tailored to imperialism. Did hetake a turn that limited the imagination?A different notion of possession is offeredwithin the oral traditions that Nkangabelongs to; it is cogently expressed by aneider in the novel Anthills of the Savannah(1987) by the Nigerian and Igbo writerChinua Achebe: 'the story is our escort;without it, we are blind. Does the blindman own bis escort? No, neither do wethe story; rather it is the story that ownsus and directs us.' 14 One can sec this logicof possession operating in Nkanga'swillingness to ask and listen to copperor to put a kola nut at the centre of the story.The possession, the seance, the surreal orthe fantastic are present alongside scientificdata, materials and images, flot as opiatesbut as openings to another understandingof worldly relations. And so, present ina literai sense in the modular and therebymobile wooden furnishings of OtobongNkanga's installations, the proverbial tablescontinue turning...

13 T h i s recalls the notion of objects less as tools than as friends or comrades that Boris Arvatov putforward in the mid-1920s, the period of the most adventurous post-revolutionary socioeconomicexperimentation before Stal inism set in. See B. Arvatov, 'Everyday Life and the Culture of the Thing(Toward the Formulation of the Question)' (1925, trans. Christ ina Kiaer), October, vol.81, Summer 1997,pp.119 —28. Nkanga, however, moves beyond theory into practice, relying less on the Russian l inguist 'sideas than on age-old tradit ions passed down through the necessarily performative oral culture thatshe grew up w i t h in her native Nigeria.

14 C h i n u a Achebe, Anthills of the Savannah (1987), New York: Anchor Books, 1988, p.114.



The authentic artist cannot turn [her] back on the contradictions that inhabit our landscapes. 1 — Robert Smithson

Otobong Nkanga operates like a scientist. With a forensic gaze, she looks at objects and environments that trigger memories, thoughts or emotions. These are the entry points for her in-depth research into broad historical contexts and engagement with a wide spectrum of disciplines, from political theory to philosophy, sociology and the natural sciences. She submerges herself in archives, examines raw materials and consults experts on their respective fields. Pivotal to her work is examining and altering ideas of land, home and displacement, and how they are connected with memory. ‘Memory is not only an autobiographical state,’ she argues, ‘but also an important notion in relation to objects that leave traces’; however,

she also concedes that ‘nothing is like it seems and everything is evidence’. 2 For her, intangible elements such as smell are as important as objects in the narration of who we are. While Nkanga scientifically researches broader contexts, it is, in the end, non-written evidence she is most interested in. In the dreamlike sequences of Nkanga’s drawing series Social Consequences and Filtered Memories (both 2009–10), 3 the artist recollects both her native Nigeria and her adoptive Europe via fragmented

objects and bodies: factory buildings, dwellings, barbed wire, mother-and-child figurines and apparitional scenes of sexual encounters function as allegories of labour, domesticity, feelings of belonging, possession, security and the loss of innocence. The drawings include single legs, levitating, marching or carrying objects; flying arms, appearing like torn-off dolls’ limbs, human-object-hybrids or prostheses; bodies without heads or faces; anthropomorphic trees and plants; piercing needles; floating architecture and bits of soil. Their conglomeration brings forth the painful resonances of lost moments — the phenomenon of phantom pain. Although fragmented, the bodies and scenes are connected through conceptual threads, creating a complex picture of how the exploitation of resources and people can shatter basic existence. Nkanga’s drawings — functioning either as preparatory studies or presented in installations that also include everyday objects, unspecified built environments, flora or geological samples — offer an introduction into the artist’s iconography, designed to spark memories beyond her own. When, in 2011, she was invited to work with the ethnographic collections of the Weltkulturen Museum in Frankfurt am Main, Nkanga proposed to examine the relationship between the present context of the artefacts in the museum’s Africa collection and their original cultural setting. Nkanga decided to focus on money, weapons and jewellery from West, Central and Southern Africa because of their multiple purposes: jewellery and weapons, for example, as accessories of prestige, were often used for monetary exchange. In order to connect to the objects, she took photographs of herself

Otobong Nkanga: Nothing Is Like It Seems, Everything Is Evidence— Yvette Mutumba

Yvette Mutumba unpacks Otobong Nkanga’s interest in the environment, bringing her relational approach to land into focus.

Otobong Nkanga, Filtered Memories, 1990—92: Survival, 1990—91, F.G.C. Shagamu, 2010, acrylic on paper, 42 × 29cm. All images courtesy the artist; Lumen Travo Gallery, Amsterdam; and In Situ Fabienne Leclerc Gallery, Paris

1 Robert Smithson, ‘Frederick Law Olmsted and the Dialectical Landscape’ (1973), Robert Smithson: The Collected Writings (ed. Jack Flam), Berkeley: University of California Press, 1996, p.164.2 Conversation with the artist, 5 April 2014.3 The series of drawings Social Consequences I, Social Consequences II, Filtered Memories 1977—81 and Filtered Memories 1987—96 were published together in the artist’s book No Be Today Story, O! (Amsterdam: Lumen Travo Gallery, 2010).

Otobong Nkanga,Filtered Memories,1 9 9 0 - 9 2 : Survival,1 9 9 0 - 9 1 , F.G.C.Shagamu, 2010,acrylic on paper,42 x 29cm. A i limages courtesy theartist; Lumen TravoGallery, Amsterdam;and In Situ FabienneLeclerc Gallery, Paris

Otobong Nkanga:Nothing Is Like It Seems,Everything Is Evidence— Yvette Mutumba

7he authentic artist cannot turn [bel-1back on the contradictions that inha bitour landscapes.'— Robert Smithson

Otobong Nkanga operates like a scientist.With a forensie gaze, she looks at objectsand environments that trigger memories,thoughts or emotions. These are the entrypoints for her in-depth research intobroad historical eontexts and engagementwith a wide spectrum of disciplines, frompolitical theory to philosophy, sociologyand the natural sciences. She submergesherself in archives, examines rawmaterials and consults experts on theirrespective fields. Pivotai to ber work isexamining and altering ideas of land,home and displacement, and h o ' they areeonnected with memory. 'Memory is notonly an autobiographical state,' she argues,'but also an important notion in relationto objects that leave traces'; however,

Yvette Mutumba unpacks OtobongNkanga's interest in the environment,bringing her relational approach toland into focus.

she also concedes that 'nothing is likeit seems and everything is evidence'. 2For ber, intangible elements such assmell are as important as objects in thenarration of Nvho we are. While Nkangascientifically researches broader contexts,it is, in the end, non-written evidenee sheis most interested in.

In the dreamlike sequences of Nkanga'sdrawing series Social Consequences andFiltered Memories (both 2009-to),' theartist recollects both ber native Nigeriaand ber adoptive Europe via fragmented

objects and bodies: faetory buildings,dwellings, barbed vire, mother-and-child figurines and apparitional scenes ofsexual eneounters funetion as allegories oflabour, domestieity, feelings of belonging,possession, security and the loss ofinnocence. The drawings include singlelegs, levitating, marching or carryingobjects; flying arms, appearing liketorn-off dolls' limbs, human-object-hybrids or prostheses; bodies withoutheads or faces; anthropomorphic treesand plants; piercing needles; floatingarchitecture and bits of soi'. Theirconglomeration brings forth the painfulresonances of lost moments — thephenomenon of phantom pain. Althoughfragmented, the bodies and seenes areeonnected through conceptual threads,ereating a complex picture of how theexploitation of resources and people canshatter basic existence. Nkanga's drawings— functioning either as preparator ystudies or presented in installations thatalso include everyday objects, unspeeifiedbuilt environments, fora or geologicalsamples — offer an introduction into theartist's ieonography, designed to sparkmemories beyond ber own.

When, in 201 she vas invited towork with the ethnographie collectionsof the Weltkulturen Museum in Frankfurtam Main, Nkanga proposed to examinethe relationship between the presenteontext of the artefacts in the museum'sAfrica collection and their originalcultural setting. Nkanga decided tofocus on money, weapons and jewelleryfrom West, Central and Southern Africabecause of their multiple purposes:jewellery and weapons, for example, asaccessories of prestige, were often used formonetary exchange. In order to connect tothe objects, she took photographs of herself

1 R o b e r t Smithson, 'Frederick Law Olmsted and the Dialectical Landscape' (1973), Robert Sneithson:The Collected Writings (cd. Uack Flam), Berkeley: Universi ty of California Press, 1996, p.164.

2 C o n v e r s a t i o n w i t h the art ist, 5 Ap r i l 2014.3 T h e series of drawings Social Conseguences I, Social Conseguences I I , Filtered Memories 1977 -81

and Filtered Memories 1 9 8 7 - 9 6 were published together in the artist 's book No Be Today Story, 0!(Amsterdam: Lumen Travo Gallery, 2010).


54 | Afterall

dressed in black and holding them with gloved hands. She also drew diagrams explaining the origins and functions of the artefacts, and wrote texts describing their imagined contexts. The different elements were designed and printed as compositions on placards to reference so-called calendars — posters that are widely found in schools, shops and other public spaces across Nigeria and that illustrate a broad spectrum of topics for an illiterate audience, from politics, social criticism and health advice to the newest film releases and fashion trends. Just as Nkanga had to reconnect with these historical artefacts despite their being, to some extent, part of her cultural heritage, she assumed that other Nigerians would also not be able to immediately identify their context and function. By distributing these picture sheets in Nigeria in addition to showing them as part of the exhibition ‘Object Atlas — Fieldwork in the Museum’ (2012) at the Weltkulturen Museum,4 Nkanga facilitated new access and understanding of these objects for a Nigerian audience. The calendars became, then, re-narrations of the objects’ histories with regard to both their current housing in the museum’s collection and their original cultural context. The ethnographic artefacts are evidence of past plundering and accumulation of material objects, a by-product of colonialism. In Limits of Mapping (2009–10), a table in the shape of a map representing fictional countries has been pierced through with huge wooden rods, recalling how African borders were once drawn up around a table in Berlin. 5 The map stands here as an abstract and disembodied reference to wrecked livelihoods and exploited resources, while the rods are connected to a central visual motif in multiple works by Nkanga: the needle. In the 2008 installation Contained Measures of Land (2008), for example, the work The Operation (2008) showed an orange-tree root pierced with oversized, stainless

steel pins and needles, while a series of accompanying paintings depicted enormous thorns that penetrated floating landscapes of lakes and woods. The act of piercing references the procedure of targeting land in the framework of colonial enterprises as well as in today’s corporate exploitation of natural environments. Every time a needle penetrates matter it simultaneously destroys and creates: it produces a hole, which in itself is a new construction. Nkanga’s reiteration of this violent act across her drawings and sculptures reflects on the infinite process of destroying and rebuilding that defines our relationship with the material environment, while also condensing the unresolved entanglement of people and geographies. Nkanga’s practice can be seen as part of a resurgence of interest in land over the last decade 6 amongst artists from Africa such as Sammy Baloji, George Osodi, Mame-Diarra Niang and Jo Ractliffe, whose practices attempt to map historical and geo-political traces of memory, narrative, identity and ownership.7 From the exploitation of the oil-drenched Niger Delta captured in Osodi’s photographs

to Niang’s chronicling of the permanent cycles of destruction and reconstruction that make up the urban landscapes of African cities such as Dakar, the works of this group of artists can be seen to focus on visually capturing the scars on the environment left by colonialism, war and exploitation — that is, on the changing

4 ‘Object Atlas — Fieldwork in the Museum’, curated by Clémentine Deliss, Weltkulturen Museum, Frankfurt am Main, 26 January—16 September 2012.5 At the Berlin Conference of 1884—85, also known as Congo Conference, diplomats of European governments, the Ottoman Empire and the United States met in Berlin to unscrupulously divide up the African continent amongst each other, marking what is commonly known as the Scramble for Africa. 6 For an overview of artists’ engagement with land since the turn of the millennium, see Kelly Baum, ‘Nobody’s Property’, in Nobody’s Property: Art, Land, Space 2000—10 (exh. cat.), Princeton: Princeton University Art Museum, pp.11—43.7 The importance of land for practices from African perspectives was recently acknowledged in the extensive exhibition ‘Earth Matters: Land as Material and Metaphor in the Arts of Africa’, National Museum of African Art, Washington DC, 22 April 2013—23 February 2014 and Fowler Museum at UCLA, Los Angeles, 23 April—14 September 2014.

Nkanga defies the prejudiced views that African artists should necessarily address the cultural and social specificities of their localities, a phenomenon that needs to be seen in the context of the debate around the ‘authenticity’ of art from Africa.

dressed in black and holding them withgloved hands. She also drew diagramsexplaining the origins and functions ofthe artefacts, and wrote texts describingtheir imagined contexts. The differentelements were designed and printedas compositions on placards to referenceso-ealled ealendars — posters that arewidely found in schools, shops and otherpublic spaces across Nigeria and thatillustrate a broad spectrum of topicsfor an illiterate audience, from polities,social criticism and health advice to thenewest film releases and fashion trends.Just as Nkanga had to reconnect with thesehistorical artefacts despite their being, tosome extent, part of her cultural heritage,she assumed that other Nigerians wouldalso not be able to immediately identifytheir context and function. By distributingthese picture sheets in Nigeria in additionto shmv ing them as part of the exhibition'Object Atlas — FieldNN ork in the Museum'(2012) at the Weltkulturen Museum,4Nkanga facilitated new access andunderstanding of these objeets for aNigerian audience. The ealendarsbecame,thon, re-narrations of the objects' histories

ith regard to both their current housingin the museum's collection and theiroriginal cultural context.

The ethnographie artefacts areevidence of past plundering andaccumulation of material objeets, aby-product of colonialism. In Limits ofMapping (2oo9-Io), a table in the shapeof a map representing fietional countrieshas been piereed through with hugewooden rods, reealling how Africanborders were once drawn up arounda table in Berlin.' The map stands hereas an abstract and disembodied referenceto wreeked livelihoods and exploitedresourees, while the rods are eonnectedto a central visual motif in multipleworks by Nkanga: the needle. In the 2008installation Contained Measures ofLand (2008), for example, the work 7heOperation (2008) show.. ed an orange-treeroot pierced with oversized, stainless

steel pins and needles, while a seriesof accompanying paintings depietedenormous thorns that penetratedfloating landscapes of lakes and woods.The aet of piereing referenees the procedureof targeting land in the frameworkof colonial enterprises as well as intoday's eorporate exploitation of naturalenvironments. Every time a needlepenetrates matter it simultaneouslydestroys and creates: it produces a hole,whieh in itself is a ne ' construction.Nkanga's reiteration of this violentact aeross her drawings and sculpturesreflects on the infinite proeess of destroyingand rebuilding that defines our relationshipwith the material environment, while alsocondensing the unresolved entanglementof people and geographies.

Nkanga's practice can be seen as partof a resurgenee of interest in land over thelast decade 6 amongst artists from Africasuch as Sammy Baloji, George Osodi,Mame-Diarra Niang and Jo Ractliffe,whose practices attempt to map historicaland geo-political traces of memory,narrative, identity and ownership. 7 Fromthe exploitation of the oil-drenched NigerDelta captured in Osodi's photographs

Nkanga defies the prejudicedviews that African artistsshould necessarily addressthe cultural and socialspecificities of their localities,a phenomenon that needsto be seen in the context of thedebate around the 'authenticity'of art from Africa.

to Niang's chronieling of the permanentcycles of destruction and reconstructionthat make up the urban landseapes ofAfrican eities such as Dakar, the worksof this group of artists can be seen to foeuson visually eapturing the scars on theenvironment lefi by colonialism, warand exploitation — that is, on the changing

4 ' O b j e c t Atlas — Fieldwork in the Museum', curated by Clémentine Deliss, Weltkulturen Museum,Frankfurt am Main, 26 January -16 September 2012.

5 A t the Berl in Conference of 1884-85, also known as Congo Conference, diplomats of E1J ropeangovernments, the Ottoman Empire and the United States met in Ber l in to unscrupulously divide up theAfr ican continent amongst each other, marking what is commonly known as the Scramble for Africa.

6 F o r an overview of artists' engagement w i t h land since the tom of the mi l lennium, sec Kelly Baum,'Nobody's Property', in Nobody's Froperty: Art, Land, Space 2 0 0 0 - 1 0 (exh. cat.), Princeton: PrincetonUniversi ty Ar t Museum, pp .11-43 .

7 T h e importance of land for practices from Afr ican perspectives was recently acknowledged in theextensive exhibi t ion 'Earth Matters: Land as Material and Metaphor in the Arts of Africa', NationalMuseum of African Art, Washington DC, 22 A p r i l 2013 -23 February 2014 and Fowler Museum atUCLA, Los Angeles, 23 A p r i l - 1 4 September 2014.

54 I Afterall


faces of natural and urban environments. While Nkanga is concerned with the devastation of resources and past and present violence throughout Africa, she shuns the monumental echoes of the past. Rather, with her characteristic forensic ethos, she produces counter-memorials: she zooms in on particular elements that make up our surroundings — particularly sand, stones and plants — to portray the struggle to (re-)define the environmental conditions in which we live. Having lived in Europe for nearly two decades since leaving Nigeria, Nkanga’s material landscapes span from Antwerp to Lagos, and reflect the interplay between the inescapable histories that

still mark the former colony and enduring mechanisms of exploitation. By working across different contexts and landscapes, she questions the dialectics between what is ‘indigenous’ and what is ‘foreign’, thereby revealing complex entanglements. In this way, she defies the prejudiced view that African artists should necessarily address the cultural and social specificities of their localities — a phenomenon that needs to be seen in the context of the decades-long debate around what defines the ‘authenticity’ of contemporary art from Africa and the Diaspora. 8 The authenticity debate has pitched two irreconcilable definitions of art from African perspectives against each other, according to which artistic

Otobong Nkanga, Facing the Opponent, 2012—13, viscose, wool, mohair, bio cotton, inkjet print on laser-cut forex plate, 165 × 187cm. Installation view, ‘Trading Style’, Weltkulturen Museum, Frankfurt am Main, 2012

8 For different views on this debate, see Rasheed Araeen, ‘Modernity, Modernism and Africa’s Authentic Voice’, Third Text, vol.24, issue 2, 2010, pp.277—86; Jean Pigozzi and André Magnin, ‘Two Conversations’, in A. Magnin et al. (ed.), African Art Now: Masterpieces from the Jean Pigozzi Collection, London: Merrell, 2005, pp.10—33; John Picton, ‘Made in Africa’, in Simon Njami et al. (ed.), Africa Remix: Contemporary Art of a Continent, Ostfildern: Hatje Cantz, 2005, pp.53—63; Suzanne Preston Blier, ‘Nine Contradictions in the New Golden Age of Contemporary African Art’, in African Arts, vol.35, no.3, Autumn 2002, pp.1—6; Okwui Enwezor and Olu Oguibe, ‘Introduction’, in O. Enwezor and O. Oguibe (ed.), Reading the Contemporary: African Art from Theory to the Marketplace, London and Cambridge, MA: Iniva and the MIT Press, 1999, pp.9—14; Salah M. Hassan, ‘The Modernist Experience in African Art: Toward a Critical Understanding’, in Philip G. Altbach and S.M. Hassan (ed.), The Muse of Modernity: Essays on Culture as Development in Africa, Trenton, NJ: Africa World Press, 1996, pp.37—61; and Sidney Littlefield Kasfir, ‘African Art and Authenticity: A Text with a Shadow’, African Arts, vol.25, no.2, April 1992, pp.41—97.

Otobong Nkanga,Facing the Opponent,2 0 1 2 - 1 3 , viscose,wool , moha i r, biocotton, i n k j e t p r i n ton laser-eut foresplate, 165 s 187cm.I n s t a l l a t i o n v iew,'Trad ing Style',W e l t k u l t u r e nMuseum, F r a n k f u r tam M a i n , 2012

faces of natural and urban environments.While Nkanga is concerned with thedevastation of resources and past andpresent violence throughout Africa,she shuns the monumental echoes ofthe past. Rather, with her characteristicforensic ethos, she produces counter-memorials: she zooms in on particularelements that make up our surroundings— particularly sand, stones and plants —to portray the struggle to (re-)definethe environmental conditions in whichwe live.

Having lived in Europe for nearly twodecades since leaving Nigeria, Nkanga'smaterial landscapes span from Antwerpto Lagos, and rellect the interplaybetween the inescapable histories that

still mark the former colony andenduring mechanisms of exploitation.By working across different contexts andlandscapes, she questions the dialecticsbetween what is 'indigenous' and whatis 'foreign', thereby revealing complexentanglements. In this way, she defiesthe preludiced view that African artistsshould necessarily address the culturaland social specificities of their localities— a phenomenon that needs to be seenin the context of the decades-long debatearound what defines the 'authenticity'of contemporary art from Africa andthe Diaspora.' The authenticity debatehas pitched two irreconcilable definitionsof art from African perspectives againsteach other, according to which artistic

8 F o r different views on this debate, see Rasheed Araeen, 'Modernity, Modernism and Africa's AuthenticVoies', Third Text, vo1.24, issue 2, 2010, pp.277-86; Jean Pigozzi and André Magnin, 'Two Conversations',i n A. Magnin et al. (ed.), African Art Nom: Masterpieces from the Sean Pigazzi Collection, London: Merrel l ,2005, pp.10 —33; John Pieton, 'Made in Afr ica', in Simon Njami et al. (ed.), Africa Remis: ContemporaryArt of a Continent, Ostfildern: Hatja Conte, 2005, pp.53-63; Suzanne Preston Blier, 'Nine Contradictionsin the New Golden Age of Contemporary Afr ican Art ' , in African Arts, vol.35, no.3, Autumn 2002,pp.1 —6; Okwui Enwezor and Oh Oguibe, ' Introduction', in O. Enwezor and O. Oguibe (ed.), Reading theContemporary: African Art from Theory to the Marketplace, London and Cambridge, MA: In iva and theMIT Press, 1999, pp.9 —14; Salah M. Hassan, 'The Modernist Experience in Afr ican Art: Toward aCri t ieal Understanding', in Phi l ip G. Altbach and S.M. Hassan (ed.), The Muse of Modernity: Essayson Culture as Development in Africa, Trenton, NO: Afr ica World Press, 1996, pp .37-61 , and SidneyL i t t le f ie ld Kasfir, 'Af r ican Art and Authentieity: A Text w i t h a Shadow', African Arts, vol.25, no.2,Apri11992, pp.41 —97.


56 | Afterall

practices should either represent the exotic ‘other’ or conform to the aesthetic parameters of the Western canon (itself an ideological construction). Although the quest for ‘authentic African art’ has always been problematic, today’s digital exchange and the relative ease of international travel make it more difficult than ever before to maintain reductionist views. According to Edward Said, the ‘plurality of vision gives rise to an awareness of simultaneous dimensions’ so that ‘habits of life, expression or activity in the new environment inevitably occur against the memory of these things in another environment’. 9 In her investigations, Nkanga does not focus so much on the differences between distinct objects and environments as on their similarities and connections: ‘Going from one region to another, there are elements

that I am familiar with and most times just take for granted, such as trees, sand, stone, water, etc. What we need in our lives is basically the same — food, shelter, love, clothing — what makes us different or unique are our mythologies.’10 What mythologies, emotions and memories do trees, sand, stones and water provoke in each of us? The topographic landscape of Nkanga’s installation Taste of a Stone (2010) presented a space for possible answers.11 On a floor of black gravel, large stones of different sizes were set atop a hump of natural iron oxide magnetite sculpted to imitate the contours of a topographic map. The stones were accompanied by epiphytes, plants that do not feed on the earth but rather moisture in the air, which thus are able to grow in the most inhospitable places — mirroring our capacity to use common elements to make ourselves at home in new contexts.

Otobong Nkanga, Taste of a Stone, 2010, installation of treated black gravel, large rocks, natural iron oxide magnetite and epiphytes, detail. Installation view, ‘Make Yourself at Home’, Kunsthal Charlottenborg, Copenhagen, 2010

9 Edward Said, Reflections on Exile and Other Essays, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2001, p.186.10 Otobong Nkanga, ‘Artist Statement’, in Charlotte Bagger Brand and Koyo Kouoh (ed.), Make Yourself at Home (exh. cat.), Copenhagen: Kunsthal Charlottenborg, 2010, pp.57—58.11 Site-specific work for the exhibition ‘Make Yourself at Home’, curated by C.B. Brand and K. Kouoh, Kunsthal Charlottenborg, Copenhagen, 4 September—21 November 2010.

practices should either represent theexotie 'other' or conform to the aestheticparameters of the Western canon (itselfan ideological construction). Althoughthe quest for 'authentie African art'bas always been problematic, today'sdigital exehange and the relative case ofinternational travel make it more diffieultthan ever before to maintain reductionistviews.

According to Edward Said, the'plurality of vision gives rise to anawareness of simultaneous dimensions'so that 'habits of life, expression oraetivity in the new environment inevitablyoccur against the memor y of thesethings in another environment'.9 In berinvestigations, Nkanga does not focus somuch on the differenees between distinctobjeets and environments as on theirsimilarities and connections: 'Going fromone region to another, there are elements

56 I Afterall

that I am familiar with and most timesjust take for granted, such as trees, sand,stone, water, etc. What we need in ourlives is basically the same — food, shelter,love, elothing — what makes us differentor unique are our mythologies.'1" Whatmythologies, emotions and memoriesdo trees, sand, stones and water provokein each of us? The topographie landscapeof Nkanga's installation Taste of a Stone(2010) presented a space for possibleanswers." On a floor of black grave',large stones of different sizes were set atopa hump of natural iron oxide magnetiteseulpted to imitate the contours ofa topographie map. The stones wereaccompanied by epiphytes, plants that doflot feed on the earth but rather moisturein the air, which thus are able to grow inthe most inhospitable places — mirroringour eapacity to use common elements tomake ourselves at home in new contexts.

9 E d w a r d Said, Rellections on Exile and Other Essaye, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2001,p.186.

10 O t o b o n g Nkanga, lAr t is t Statement', ln Charlotte Bagger Brand and Koyo Kouoh (ed.), Make Yoursellat Home (exh. cat.), Copenhagen: Kunsthal Charlottenborg, 2010, pp.57 —58.

11 S i t e - s p e c i f i c work for the exhibit ion 'Make Yourself at Home', curated by C.B. Brand and K. Kouoh,Kunsthal Charlottenborg, Copenhagen, 4 September-21 November 2010.

Otobong Nkanga,Taste of a Stone, 2010,installation oftreated black gravel,large rocks, naturaliron oxide magnetiteand epiphytes, detail.Installation view,'Make Yourself atHome', KunsthalCharlottenborg,Copenhagen, 2010


The creaky sound created by stepping on the gravel, the scene’s visual effect and the cold, hard feel of the stones offered up a synaesthetic experience that underscored the commonalities in our perceptive responses to everyday materials regardless of the divergent affiliations we might have with them. In another room, six fragmented, visual narratives offered glimpses of what happens outside the contained zones of our personal realities. On six wooden tables, Nkanga placed photographs of different stones printed on pieces of limestone and accompanied by poetic texts and images also printed on slabs of the white stone. Maps of unidentified territories and photographs of deserted landscapes reflected on the consequences of land demarcation and exploitation, while a drawing depicting hands grasping for soil referenced the race for resources. The texts printed on the limestone pondered our individual relationships with land and natural materials. Choosing not to disclose locations or even regions, Nkanga invited viewers to relate their own experiences and associations to these images.

For Taste of a Stone: Itiat Esa Ufok (2013), the most recent iteration of this project, Nkanga created another landscape of contemplation for the courtyard of the Bait Khaled bin Ibrahim Al Yousif in Sharjah, a traditional Emirati house recently repurposed as an exhibition space for the Sharjah Art Foundation.12 She animates this new installation of images and poems printed on Galala limestone, large rocks and plants placed on white gravel by spending hours in the space, either performing or holding a placard with questions addressed to the audience. What would they like herto do — sing, dance, talk? As visitors put

down their answers, she stood up and walked around the courtyard singing and reciting personal narratives while wearing a plant — the Cestrum nocturnum (Queen of the Night) — on her head. She chose this plant because it is not, as she had first assumed, specific to the region around the Nigerian city of Kano, where she grew up; the Queen of the Night can also be found in Sharjah, originates in the West Indies and is naturalised in South Asia. One cannot claim any territory, not even through memory, Nkanga suggests. In this and other performances, Nkanga maps and connects the socio-economic, cultural and political implications of her chosen artefacts — often objects that present no evidence of a specific event or process. As she holds an item and employs her voice to speak or sing, Nkanga adds a subtle layer of meaning, as if body and object are coalescing. The relationship between Nkanga as a performer and the audience has changed over the course of her artistic practice. In her early performance Perfect Measures (2003),13 for example, she used objects such as towels, face creams, scissors, pins and oversized needles to examine her idea of the ideal place for working, cleansing, exercising, eating and resting. But in the quest for the perfect home, the performance consistently revealed defaults and flaws. In Nkanga’s perception, the actual content of her performative work was hardly considered; her black female body became the landscape onto which stereotypes and fantasies were projected. In contrast to this stage-like setting, in more recent works she has attempted to shift the audience’s gaze by making her performances part of the exhibition setting, and by using her voice as well as engaging the public directly. In the installations-cum-performances Contained Measures of a Kolanut and Contained Measures of Shifting States (both 2012),14 she sat for hours at a table that displayed a landscape of objects,

One cannot claim any territory,not even through memory, Nkanga suggests.

12 ‘Itiat Esa Ufok’ is Ibibio language for ‘The Stones of a Courtyard’. The work was commissioned for the Sharjah Biennial 11, curated by Yuko Hasegawa, 13 March—13 May 2013. 13 Perfect Measures was an installation and performance commissioned for the exhibition ‘Transferts’, curated by Toma Muteba Luntumbue, Palais des Beaux Arts, Brussels, 2003. 14 Contained Measures of a Kolanut was an installation and ten-hour performance commissioned for the exhibition ‘Tropicomania: The Social Life of Plants’, curated by Mélanie Bouteloup and Anna Colin, Bétonsalon, Paris, 20 April—21 July 2012; Contained Measures of Shifting States was commissioned for ‘Across the Board: Politics of Representation’, curated by Elvira Dyangani Ose, The Tanks, Tate Modern, London, 24 November 2012.

The creaky sound created by stepping onthe grave!, the scene's visual effect andthe cold, bard feel of the stones offeredup a synaesthetic experience thatunderscored the commonalities inour perceptive responses to everydaymaterials regardless of the divergentaffiliations we might have with them.In another room, six fragmented, visualnarratives offered glimpses of whathappens outside the contained zones ofour persona' realities. On six woodentables, Nkanga placed photographs ofdifferent stones printed on pieces oflimestone and accompanied by poetictexts and images also printed on slabsof the white stone. Maps of unidentifiedterritories and photographs of desertedlandscapes reflected on the consequencesof land demarcation and exploitation,while a drawing depicting bands graspingfor soil referenced the race for resources.The texts printed on the limestonepondered our individual relationshipswith land and natural materials.Choosing not to disclose locations oreven regions, Nkanga invited viewersto relate their own experiences andassociations to these images.

One cannot daim any territory,flot even through memory,Nkanga suggests.

For Taste of a Stone: Itiat Esa Ufok(2013), the most recent iteration of thisproject, Nkanga created another landscapeof contemplation for the courtyard ofthe Bait Khaled bin Ibrahim Al Yousifin Sharjah, a traditional Emirati bouserecently repurposed as an exhibitionspace for the Sharjah Art Foundation."She animates this new installation ofimages and poems printed on Galalalimestone, large rocks and plants placedon white grave' by spending hours inthe space, either performing or holdinga placard With questions addressed tothe audience. What would they like berto do — sing, dance, talk? As visitors put

down their answers, she stood up andwalked around the courtyard singingand reciting persona' narratives whilewearing a plant — the Cestrum noeturnum(Oueen of the Night) o n ber head.She chose this plant because it is not,as she had first assumed, specific to theregion around the Nigerian city of Kano,where she grem.• up; the Oueen of theNight can also be found in Sharjah,originates in the West Indics and isnaturalised in South Asia. One cannotdaim any territory, not even throughmemory, Nkanga suggests.

In this and other performances,Nkanga maps and connects the socio-economic, cultural and politica'implications of ber chosen artefacts —often objects that present no evidenceof a specific event or process. As she holdsan item and employs ber voice to speakor sing, Nkanga adds a subtle layerof meaning, as if body and object arecoalescing. The relationship betweenNkanga as a performer and the audiencebas changed over the course of ber artisticpractice. In ber early performancePerfect Measures(2003),13 for example,she used objects such as towels, facecreams, scissors, pins and oversizedneedles to examine ber idea of the idealplace for working, cleansing, exercising,eating and resting. But in the questfor the perfect home, the performanceconsistently revealed defaults and flaws.In Nkanga's perception, the actualcontent of ber performative work vashardly considered; ber black femalebody became the landscape onto wbichstereotypes and fantasies were projected.In contrast to this stage -like setting,in more recent works she has attemptedto shift the audience's gaze by makingber performances part of the exhibitionsetting, and by using ber voice as wellas engaging the public directly. In theinstallations-cum-performancesContained Measures of a Kolanut andContained Measures of Shifiing States(both 2012)," she sat for hours at a tablethat displayed a landscape of objects,

12 ' I t i a t Esa Ufok' is Ibibio language for 'The Stones of a Courtyard'. The work was commissioned for theSharjah Biennial 11, curated by Yuko Hasegawa, 13 M a r c h - 1 3 May 2013.

13 P e r f e c t Measures was an insta l la t ion and performance commissioned for the exhibit ion 'Transferts',curated by Tema Muteba Luntumbue, Palais des Beaux Arts, Brussels, 2003.

14 Conta ined Measures of a Kolanut was an ins ta l la t ion and ton-heur performance commissioned for theexhibi t ion 'Tropicomania: The Social Life of Plants', curated by Mélanie Bobteloup and Anna Colin,Bétonsalon, Paris, 20 A p r i l - 2 1 Uuly 2012; Contained Measures of Shifting States was commissionedfor 'Across the Board: Pol i t ics of Representation', curated by Elv i ra Dyangani Ose, The Tanks, TateModern, London, 24 November 2012.


58 | Afterall

images and archival materials — catalysts for dialogue with the viewer. In the former work, she invited guests to taste the kola nut, while in the latter she asked visitors about processes that could alter common ideas of identity, memory and perception. With their emphasis on participation, Nkanga’s performances have become temporal sites for negotiating such notions and attempting to magnify their physical presence. More recently, Nkanga has invited others to tell their own stories related to land, home and displacement while holding the objects that trigger these

personal narratives. In Diaspore (2014),15 six black women talked or sang, one at a time, while wearing the Queen of the Night on their heads and standing on an invented topography painted on the ground. This interest in representing multiple viewpoints is also at the centre of a work in progress, in which a mineralogist explains her latest scientific findings, a homeless person talks about her definition of home and a migrant gives an account of her journey. As well as bringing into focus Nkanga’s dialogical approach to history, these polyphonic performances mark the artist's attempt

15 Diaspore was a performance commissioned for the exhibition ‘14 Rooms’, curated by Hans Ulrich Obrist and Klaus Biesenbach, Art Basel, 14—22 June 2014.

Otobong Nkanga, Diaspore, 2014, installation and 10-hour performance. Performance view, ‘14 Rooms’, Messe Basel, 13—22 June 2014

images and archivai materials — catalystsfor dialogue with the viewer. In the formerwork, she invited guests to taste the kolanut, while in the latter she asked visitorsabout proeesses that could alter eommonideas of identity, memory and perception.With their emphasis on participation,Nkanga's performances have becometemporal sites for negotiating such notionsand attempting to magnify their physicalpresence.

More recently, Nkanga bas invitedothers to tell their own stories relatedto land, home and displacement whileholding the objects that trigger these

personal narratives. In Diaspore (204,1'six black women talked or sang, one ata time, while wearing the Oueen of theNight on their heads and standing onan invented topography painted on theground. This interest in representingmultiple viewpoints is also at the centre ofa work in progress, in whieh a mineralogistexplains her latest scientific findings,a homeless person talks about herdefinition of home and a migrant givesan aceount of her journey. As well asbringing into foeus Nkanga's dialogicalapproach to history, these polyphonieperformances mark the artist's attempt

15 D iaspore was a performance eommissioned for the exhibi t ion '14 Rooms', eurated by Hans Ulr ieh Obristand Klaus Biesenbach, Ar t Basel, 1 4 - 2 2 dune 2014.

58 I Afterall

Otobong Nkanga,Diaspore, 2014,installation and10-hour performance.Performance view,'14 Rooms',Messe Basel,1 3 - 2 2 J'une 2014


to act outside binaries and to consider instead the many perspectives that define us. Consider her project In Pursuit of Bling (2014), which focuses on the myriad transformations that natural materials go through as they move from being raw matter through extraction and manipulation.16 At the centre of the installation were two large elaborated tapestries, which rose up towards the ceiling: one of a gem pierced with needles and the other of a man and woman metamorphosing into abstract shapes reminiscent of mining landscapes. On a modular metal structure, Nkanga placed geological samples and photographs of minerals such as mica, malachite and copper, as well as texts printed on limestone. Embedded within this structure were two videos showing her presenting shiny materials to the camera and walking through the streets of Berlin wearing a crown of malachite. All these elements traced the connections between past and present desire for raw materials: from the green, copper domes of Berlin’s churches to the mica used in industrial products ranging from

electronic appliances to rockets and missiles. And while this focus on our material surroundings allowed for reflection upon the commodification of nature, Nkanga’s installation also addressed the ambivalence of bling: at the same time that it showed how the magnificent façades of Berlin’s imperial architecture shine only superficially, concealing the dark side of colonial and capitalist exploitation, it also conveyed a much more common fascination with glitter and shimmer as that which makes us, as individuals, feel out of the ordinary. As much as The Pursuit of Bling is about the exploitation of resources, then, it is also about the constant pursuit for the better and the brighter, for those moments in which we all can finally shine.

16 In Pursuit of Bling was commissioned for the 8th Berlin Biennale, curated by Juan A. Gaitán, 29 May—5 August 2014.

Otobong Nkanga, In Pursuit of Bling, 2014, installation consisting of 30 metallic modulated structures; woven textile pieces; video; mica; malachite minerals; images and text inkjet printed on Galala limestone; and mica insulation sheet. Installation view, 8th Berlin Biennale, 2014

Otobong Nkanga,In Pursuit of Bling,2014, installationconsisting of 30metallic modulatedstructures; woventextile pieces; video;mica; malachiteminerais; images andtext inkjet printedon Gaiala limestone;and mica insulationsbeet. Installationview, 8th BerlinBiennale, 2014

to act outside binaries and to considerinstead the many perspectives that defineus. Consider her project In Pursuit ofBling (2014), which focuses on the myriadtransformations that natural materialsgo through as they move from beingraw matter through extraction andmanipulation.16 At the centre of theinstallation were two large elaboratedtapestries, which rose up towards theceiling: one of a gem pierced with needlesand the other of a man and womanmetamorphosing into abstract shapesreminiscent of mining landscapes. On amodular metal structure, Nkanga placedgeological samples and photographsof minerais such as mica, malachiteand copper, as well as texts printedon limestone. Embedded within thisstructure were two videos showing berpresenting shiny materials to the cameraand walking through the streets ofBerlin wearing a crown of malachite.All these elements traced the connectionsbetween past and present desire for rawmaterials: from the green, copper domesof Berlin's churches to the mica usedin industrial products ranging from

electronic appliances to rockets andmissiles. And while this focus on ourmaterial surroundings allowed forreflection upon the commodificationof nature, Nkanga's installation alsoaddressed the ambivalence of bling:at the same time that it showed how themagnificent façades of Berlin's imperialarchitecture shine only superficially,concealing the dark side of colonial andcapitalist exploitation, it also conveyeda much more common fascination withglitter and shimmer as that which makesus, as individuals, feel out of the ordinary.As much as The Pursuit of Ming is aboutthe exploitation of resources, then, it isalso about the constant pursuit for thebetter and the brighter, for those momentsin which we all can finally shine.

16 I n Pursuit of Blingwas commissioned for the 8th Berl in Biennale, curated by Juan A. Gaitan, 29 M a y - 5August 2014.


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