Archive: Issue No. 73, September 2003

Africa also died in Venice in 2003. African leaders evidently do not understand the power of art in the process of establishing and maintaining the status and influence of a country; after more than 100 years of the Venice Biennale Egypt is the only African country that has a pavilion in the Giardini.

The Forum for African Arts was established in New York in January 2000 to address the absence of Africa in Venice, to promote contemporary African visual art and culture, to help create a renaissance of artistic creativity by Africans and to give them exposure on a global scale. I was also invited. Although I as uncomfortable that our salvation was once again coming from elsewhere and that only two of the thirteen individuals concerned were living on the African continent, I fully endorsed the principles.

The significance of this initiative was confirmed in Venice in 2001 with a superb exhibition, 'Authentic/Ex-Centric: Conceptualism in Contemporary African Art'. The curators were Salah Hassan and Olu Oguibe, assisted by Emma Bedford. Two South African artists, Willem Boshoff and Berni Searle, participated; the venue was somewhat isolated, but Africa made an unforgettable entry.

The Forum never met again, there is virtually no communication from the project directors and, as far as I know, the members do not play any role, except for Gilane Tawadros, who was appointed as curator of the 2003 participation in Venice. Her concept, 'Faultlines: Contemporary African Art and Shifting Landscapes' was accepted by the director of the biennial, Francesco Bonami, for the Arsenale.

This was a major breakthrough that created great expectations - Africa had moved from the margins into the spotlight. Sadly, it would have been better to switch off the lights so that Africa could die in the dark. This appearance of our continent can only be described as a conceptual, visual and curatorial disaster.

What went wrong? Tawadros is an experienced curator and founding director of the well-known inIVA (Institute of International Visual Arts) in London. This is also the core of the problem - she was born in Egypt but has lived in Britain since 1970 and has only visited two African cities, Cairo and Johannesburg. This is reflected in her choice of artists: four are Egyptian, and the four South Africans are all from Gauteng, although Moshekwa Langa has lived in The Netherlands for some time now.

Other problematic aspects of 'Faultlines' are that only six of the fifteen artists live in Africa (Egypt and South Africa), five were born in Africa but live elsewhere, two were born and are living outside the continent and two died, in 1989. This is not a review of the catalogue, but it is worth noting that, of the 27 contributors, three are dead, six are resident in Africa, nine were born on the continent but live abroad, while ten were not born and are not resident here. Nine writers live in America.

Africa was hijacked and killed by the diaspora in Venice at the hands of those who purport to have her interests at heart.

In her curatorial statement Tawadros explains that the selected works "� span five decades, four continents and three generations, resisting any notion of an authentic or one-dimensional African experience." This assumption presents one of the main faultlines of the show, because the multi-dimensional nature of the continent could easily and powerfully be realised in the work of young artists who are alive and living in Africa.

'Faultlines' misleads - it is not about Africa but about the diaspora, it is not contemporary and it does not reveal any shifting landscapes. Tawadros longs for the Africa of Gamal Abdel-Nasser and Kwame Nkrumah (they both have 'essays' in the catalogue), she is obsessed with modernism (Frank Bowling's paintings date from the late 1960s), with globalism and exile, and she does not have sufficient knowledge of contemporary African life, experiences, indeed the challenges faced by those living on the continent and the art that is made here.

The presentation of 'Faultlines' leaves much to be desired. Other exhibitions in the Arsenale have labels and texts that inform the public about the artists and their work; at the time I was in Venice this was lacking. If one did not know that Hassan Fathy (1900-1989) was one of the greatest architects of the 20th century, one could think that he took nice photographs of adobe buildings. The meaning and potential impact of Langa's videos and drawings are drowned in the visual and aural cacophony that results from the installation.

I could not find the work of Johannesburg artists Pitso Chinzima and Veliswa Gwintsa anywhere in 'Faultlines'. Back in South Africa I learned that when Tawadros saw their work, she decided to close the crate and send it home. What a disgrace! Tawadros did not answer my question about why she chose these two artists, but she did comment on the rejection: "Pitso and Veliswa's work was not completed as originally proposed in time for the Biennale. It was neither in Pitso and Veliswa's interests nor in the interests of the Forum to show the work in an incomplete state."

What does this tell us about the artists who could not complete their work in time for the biggest opportunity of their young lives? Having seen Chinzima's contribution to the 2002 Sao Paulo Biennale, I am not surprised. And the curator? Why did she decide to select the work of three South Africans (Clifford Charles is the third) who have not had one-person shows in their own country, while most of her diaspora-stars boast impressive biographies? What does this fiasco reveal about Francesco Bonami?

Whatever the answers may be, we cannot lay the blame for Africa's death in Venice on the Forum, Tawadros, Bonami or the diaspora. As long as we fail to take responsibility for how and by whom our art and artists are represented, those in positions of power in West will continue to exploit and misrepresent us.