The point of view of children, which were born in a country other than their parents’ homeland(s) or moved with the parents to a new land while young, sets them apart from both their parents and their neighbours. This is because they grow up straddling two cultures. Not only do they have to juggle the use of two or more languages, but the systems through which they are educated are unfamiliar to the parents little to no experience, which can result in some awkward situations.
New arrivals may be taunted, bullied, or simply ignored simply for being unfamiliar with the local lingo and modes of behaviour. The food they eat or the colour of their skin may invite extra scorn. Though they are considered in limited terms—not for their potential—most will make their way and positively contribute to their new homes.
Having said that, being a transplant offers privileged perspectives on two cultures. Not only does it highlight patterns oblivious to their new neighbours, but it also places their countries of origin in a new light. Fostered by their families’ stories of their cultural backgrounds and the education and experiences of their new home, artists are able to draw on their unique circumstances and translate them into new forms.
Thus, in the fascinating details of Terano ocupado (Occupied terrain) 2014, Délio Jasse highlights the lingering effects of colonialism on the citizens living in Luanda, Angola. By employing one of the earliest photographic processes to reprint old photographs found in private archives, shops and fairs, he has a created an evocative blue photo essay that alludes to the ravages of time.
Sammy Baloji‘s Sans titre (douilles d’obus et plantes tropicales) / Untitled (shell casings and tropical plants) 2016-2020, on the other hand, blends what he sees as the contemporary sense of amnesia regarding colonialism in Belgium with references to violence. By calling attention to the practice of using shell casings as flower pots, he is quietly emphasising that the metal used to produced them derived from mines in the Congo, the former Belgian colony (now Democratic Republic of the Congo). It is also where Baloji was born. This work presents a discomforting juxtaposition that hinges on death and displacement masquerading as home decor.
The Franco-Algerian artist Katia Kameli‘s Trou de mémoire (Lapse of Memory) 2018—a game-like photo work comprised of two panels—reveals recent and past views of a public monument in the city of Algiers, Algeria. Whereas Kameli’s large images present a view of the enormous concrete sarcophagus—Liberation Memorial 1978, created by the Algerian artist M’hamed Issiakhem—she has supplanted its box-like projection with closed and open accordian books of postcards, which expose its contents. It preserves the original monument—Le Grand Pavois 1928—designed by architects Maurice Gras et Édouard Monestès and sculptors Paul Landowski and Charles Bigone (see Memorial to the Liberation of Algeria). This work, in part, references the ties between French Algeria’s diverse communities.
From today’s perspective, in which cancel culture frequently holds sway, this is an unusual gesture. While both monuments honour the suffering of Algerian fighters, here we have an instance of preservation—monuments improbably treated as nesting dolls—as opposed to wholesale destruction.
Djamel Kokène-Dorléans, an artist, curator, educator and activist, has been described as a nonconformist researcher into the history of slavery and colonialism. Like Katia Kameli, he is also of Algerian background. From the above example of his Aucune raison (No reason) series work, one may assume he has a talent for creating powerfully concise visual—though unspecific—statements regarding the plight of maltreated people. This small sculpture packs a wallop that vastly eclipses its modest—almost ignorable—presence.
While it is difficult to make out what the figure depicted in Sandra Mujinga‘s Ondes de camouflage #2 (Camouflage Waves #2) 2018, is doing, the person does seem to be engaging in a difficult task. Is something being carried or that right arm raised to protect the face? Writing for aqnb.com in 2018, Wong Bing Hao notes that the surface characteristics of this work derives from the fact that the PVC has been ironed onto the film, which explains the blurring, distortions and ways in which light interacts with these materials. Sandra Mujinga, being a Norwegian citizen of Congolese origin, is said to be a keen observer of shifts in identity. It is through the presentation of such nebulous scenarios that she questions colonialism’s impact on transformation.
Pedro A.H. Paixão is an artist and a writer of Angola and Portuguese background, who produces dreamy images that simultaneously convey a subtle and disquieting aura. This monochrome portrait of the artist’s grandmother is a perfect example. At first, one becomes absorbed in studying the work’s details—the attention he has given to the convincing depiction of her hands and face, the folds of her clothing and her dark skin by using magenta, one of the trio of hues use to achieve full colour prints using inkjet printing—as well as trying to resolve why he decided to choose this colour. These are things that distracted me until something unexpectedly materialised out of the red mist, clarifying the inherently contradictory nature between her relaxed post and concentrated facial expression. This was the gun in her lap.
Et le corail tomba de l’arbre (And the coral fell from the tree) 2019, produced by Josèfa Ntjam, takes an entirely different approach to colonialism. As one of the exhibition’s younger artists—born in France to Cameroonian parents—she grew up with the internet and its inexhaustible supply of ideas and content. In this intensely chromatic and poetic sculpture, she offers a view of nature that flips it upside down. It’s as if to say: Open your eyes! The interaction of people from different backgrounds shapes us in fascinating new ways.
According notes on the exhibition’s website, Carlos Bunga does not see himself as an African artist or being connected to colonialism. He was born and raised in Portugal, and has lead a peripatetic life. He considers himself to be nomad. He has also become known for producing very large installations, usually made from his signature materials: corrugated cardboard, packing tape and paint. Thus, encountering this early work proved a welcome surprise. The ‘model’ evokes an impromptu, temporary shelter—the kind of shelter the disadvantaged around the world rely on, if they can.
The final artist to be highlighted in this brief overview of Europa, Oxalá—the exhibition included two or more works by each of the 21 participating Afro-European artists—is the Algerian born, Paris based, Fayçal Baghriche. His eye-catching spinning globe is not only hypnotic, but also blurs the geographical, political, linguistic and ethic distinctions that currently define the earth. But what is the object saying about how we see each other? It does seem to be nudging us to reconsider our personal views. Are they rooted in opinion, for example, or somthing more substantial—direct experience or concrete information. Do they focus on dissimilarities or the things that connect us? Since the French ‘souvenir’ translates to ‘memory’ and ‘keepsake’, the work’s title is telling. While the first is a cognitive function, which has a prominent role in knowledge and understanding, the second is a material artefact that holds special meaning for the holder. That distinction is noteworthy when interpreting the Baghriche’s work.
Moreover, the installation Épuration élective (Elective purification) 2009, often accompanies the artist’s globe. Though it isn’t apparent from its appearance, this enormous image, realised in wallpaper, replicates the two-page spread of world flags from an atlas. Since those pages have been cleansed of all symbolic content, but for one element, what viewers perceive is a strange version of a starry sky. As Lily Matras writes in The Geopoetics of Fayçal Baghriche (2014), “…upsetting a system of strongly loaded visuals, the artist alters what is thought to be immutable. He creates a subversive context as he neutralizes our conception of geopolitics. By bringing together a radiant confrontation of artificial and natural images, of social codes and artistic forms, Baghriche imparts humility to the first and functionality to the second.”
A final quote from the Africa Museum’s webpage about this illuminating exhibition:
“The exhibition Europa, Oxalá presents contemporary artworks (painting, drawing, sculpture, film, photography and installation) by 21 Afro-European artists, whose parents and grandparents were born or lived in Angola, DRC, Burundi, Benin, Guinea, Algeria or Madagascar. They have inherited memories which are not just voices, sounds and gestures, but also images and memories of their cultures of origin.
These indirect memories – also called post memory – , which come to them in a diffuse way through family, groups of friends and daily public life. This is the starting point for important research work in historical and family archives. The innovative and transnational character of the work of these “post-memory” artists has deeply influenced the artistic and cultural landscape of the last two decades, opening new perspectives to the very notion of Europe.
Included works by: Aimé Mpane, Aimé Ntakiyica, Carlos Bunga, Délio Jasse, Djamel Kokene-Dorléans, Fayçal Baghriche, Francisco Vidal, John K. Cobra, Katia Kameli, Mohamed Bourouissa, Josèfa Ntjam, Malala Andrialavidrazana, Márcio Carvalho, Mónica de Miranda, Nú Barreto, Pauliana Valente Pimentel, Pedro A.H. Paixão, Sabrina Belouaar, Sammy Baloji, Sandra Mujinga et Sara Sadik.“
Europa, Oxalá was was curated by Antonió Pinto Ribeiro (University of Coimbra, Portugal), Katia Kameli (artist) and Aimé Mpane (artist). The exhibition was presented at MUCEM, Marseille, France (20.10.2021 — 16.01.2022) after which it travelled to Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation , Lisbon, Portugal (03.03.2022 — 30.05.2022) and The Africa Museum, Tervuren, Belgium (17.10.2022 — 05.03.2023).
Eyeballing art 