AFRICAN ART 

ART FOR LIFE'S SAKE: AFRICAN ART AS A REFLECTION OF AN AFROCENTRIC COSMOLOGY

by Dele Jegede

African art has been maligned in the writings of Western scholars who have failed to understand its source and origin. This failure has led to misunderstanding and misinterpretation of the artistic production and expression of African people. African art cannot be meaningfully attempted within a Western framework.

In such cultures as exist in traditional societies in Africa, art is integral to life and to man's well being. It is expressive of a people's world-view, and its absence creates an obvious but uncomfortable vacuum.

You may have suspected that the title of this presentation, "Art for Life's Sake," is suggestive of a complementary even if antipodal standpoint in relation to the more popular Western doctrine of art for art's sake. Let me confirm this suspicion. In doing so, however, let us pause to examine some of the distinct elements which characterize African art. Before this, a digression. A fairly long but appropriate digression. A Yoruba proverb says, "A ko le fi ete sile ka maa pa lapa-lapa." Where a patient manifests both diseases, "We cannot devote all our responses to treating ringworm when leprosy has not even been touched." Let us then examine two leprous shibboleths in African art. I am referring to the terms "primitive" and "tribal."

Some Westerners have told us, over the years, that African art is primitive. These early students of African art, in assigning this label, functioned under a Eurocentric rationalization which reached its zenith in the evolutionist theory of Darwin -- a nineteenth century theory which classified cultures on the assumption that only the white man had a monopoly on standards of development. Thus, on arrival in Africa, the white man proceeded to arrogate to himself the lordship and pre-eminence which, in his own country, he hardly merited. In the words of Sheldon Gellar "white settler farmers who came from lower middle-class backgrounds thus perceived themselves as 'gentleman farmers' and attempted to imitate the style of the upper class and aristocracy back home."

The visage of this "new god" on African soil, easily distinguished as much by his skin color as by his tobacco pipe and pith helmet, became a conundrum which the African would attempt to unravel for the next century. Fueled by the cumulative effects of the doctrine of racial superiority, the white man on arrival in Africa expected to see a replication of Western culture, albeit with minor geographical modifications. He saw, instead, a remarkably different race and culture. Neither frescoes, nor etchings nor prints of the European sort were found. There were almost no equestrian, heroic or heraldic sculptures. In place of museums, he saw shrines. In place of the cross and the crucifix he saw masks, masquerades and an assortment of sacred objects in use. The European concluded the art was fetish, the religion pagan, and the people primitive. The general absence of written languages, as understood by Europe, was interpreted as absence of history. And the word "native," used in its most condescending and derogatory manifestations to refer to indigenous African peoples, was generously applied. All of this is symptomatic of ethnocentrism.

But all of this was not mere happenstance. As Michael McCarthy has demonstrated, much of Euro-American perception of Africa as subcultural and primitive is indebted to the gratuitous fabrications of early travellers, publishers and, in particular, of early geographers who substituted fancies for facts. McCarthy's own summary is relevant for our purposes here, and he deserves to be quoted at some length:

Generally, the African narratives written, published and disseminated by travellers from the West indicated directly or implied obtusely that Africans lack civilization, or any redeeming type of social organization. As a race, they were promiscuous and cruel, and their behavior was more akin to beasts than to people, an idea advanced by portraying Africans as having less than human form. Africa, in addition, was seen as a mirror image of what Greece, Rome or Europe should never be: a land where nature had gone wild, where chaos and anarchy reigned, where people were deformed both in body and spirit, and where gross excesses of behavior were not the exception but the rule. 

Today in the West, vestiges of this racial bent are very much apparent. Events in Africa are hardly reported by the mass media unless such confirm the stereotypical view of a dark continent. As a result of such constant reinforcement of negative views, many African Americans remain unconcerned about their roots. In fact, some are ashamed of Africa. Even in Africa itself, this negativism, although of slightly different manufacture, produced identical results. Educated Africans became disdainful of their cultures and embraced imported values. Some of them anglicized their names, while serious efforts were made to out-British the British, or out-French the French, in language, modes of dress and manner of perceiving. In Nigeria, some overly enthusiastic converts assisted the early missionaries in making bonfires of traditional carvings. For those who owed their education to missionary enterprise, religious indoctrination was inevitable.

In art-historical and anthropological circles, there has been a shift of attitude in recent years. As scholars in this book attest, African art is not primitive. But many non-Africans see Afrocentric insights as appeasement. Thus, in spite of the ritual acknowledgments scattered in many books to the effect that African art manifests admirable qualities all its own, many books still turn up with the title "Primitive Art." Some, in fact, would want us to believe that they have not found a suitable alternative to the term "primitive." 

The necessity for this explication is justified by the fact that the ghost of the term "primitive" has not been completely laid to rest. That this is so is confirmed by the recent College Arts Association conference which organized a panel on "Art Without History" which grouped graffiti, children's art and psychotic, naive, prehistoric and primitive art together. ⁵ And as recently as 1986, Roy Sieber, an eminent Africanist, considered this issue of primitivism strong enough to warrant an emphatic declaration: "African arts are not primitive, if by primitive is meant simple, crude, or original in the sense of being without a history."

In recent years, attempts have been made to popularize the use of "tribal" as a substitute for "primitive." Yet, this attempt must fail. The reason why this term is being recommended by its apologists is because "it is possible to generalize about African art styles up to but not above the level of the tribe." ⁷ The thrust of this argument is that the arts of African peoples do not share anything in common outside of their immediate areas of production. However as Asante and Asante demonstrate in their book African Culture: The Rhythms of Unity, there is much commonality in African culture. 

 his recommendation must be stoutly rejected. Like the word "primitive," "tribal" offers an approach that attempts to put the "natives" in their place. It attempts to treat our art as discrete entities that cannot be meaningfully studied within the context of a system of relationships in which cultural and artistic intercourse is possible. It is, in a sense, a "divide and study' approach that negates, this time on a cultural plane, the preoccupation of modern day African nations with forging national unity and cultural identity. It is only Africa that appears qualified to be considered on the basis of tribe. The ludicrousness of this concept is underlined when we note that while small European ethnic groups are referred to as nations, nations in Africa are seen largely as agglomerations of tribes. In effect, proponents of tribality in African art are saying that because African countries are multi-lingual and multi-cultural, they do not necessarily intermarry or inter-trade, and are not necessarily influenced by each other's cultures. In other words, tribality as a replacement comes with the supposition that countries do not have any artistic legitimacy unless their artworks have a unifying national style. Tribality must be rejected because African art has a homogeneity that sets it apart from other world arts. At any rate, there are no compelling reasons why stylistic commonness should be a criterion for artistic analysis or historical studies.

Having rejected these two taxonomic approaches, what do we recommend? Simply that African art be seen, recognized, studied, analyzed or appreciated Afrocentrically. For particularistic studies, group identification is in order. And those interested enough will make the linkage. Thus, Nok, Benin, Ife and Igbo-Ukwu can be considered under the country, Nigeria; Dogon, Jenne and Bamana can be considered under Mali. These examples can be multiplied. Furthermore, comparisons can be made and conclusions drawn under various categories: chronology, iconology, and stylistic. And the arts can be categorized into appropriate rubrics: ancient, traditional or modern.

Having digressed to deal with these recurrent problems, let us now look at those elements which confirm our thesis that much of African art is tied to life, that it represents the physical translation of philosophical, religious and aesthetic tenets. The submission here is that African art addresses African cosmology. In many instances, it is a physical manifestation of abstract and subjective doctrines; it is a metaphor for socio-religious ethos.

FUNCTIONS OF AFRICAN ART 

There are two distinct and closely interdependent planes at which art functions. These are the spiritual and the secular. The spiritual domain involves religion, with the associational elements of ancestor worship and the various shrines -- communal and personal -- which are installed. Many African societies repose faith in their ancestors. Though dead, ancestors are believed to have the power to transform themselves into formidable spiritual entities who generally intercede in support of their offspring. It is this need to fulfill religious obligations, to appeal to, or venerate ancestors, or to appease malevolent powers, that has encouraged the production of artworks -- in wood, metal, clay or composite materials -- in considerable quantity.

Art, then, has an aesthetic constant that is determined primarily by performance. Frequently, it is the medium that becomes the issue, since

unimprovement in human conditions is often blamed on the ineffectiveness of the particular artwork.

The concern for social security, group solidarity, personal and corporate welfare, procreation and survival is shared by many African societies. Survival in this context is not limited to human survival. It is recognized, for instance, that man cannot survive in the absence of reliable agricultural produce. Let us examine this a little further.

Most African communities attempt to be as self-sufficient as possible. Indeed, of all things agricultural self-sufficiency is an imperative. For this is one of the cardinal principles of survival. An African proverb says that a hungry stomach cannot accommodate or tackle other issues. Yet, farmers recognize that tilling the soil and planting the seeds may not be sufficient, on occasions, to ensure good harvest. They recognize their powerlessness in the face of inclement weather. Lack of rain, or an excess of it, may spell disaster for the crops, which would either dry up or remain bloated underground. It is this desire to appease the unseen forces responsible for such developments that has led man to resort to extraordinary means.

Enter the diviner. Through divination, he attempts to diagnose the cause and prescribe solutions. Probable questions the diviner might ask his oracle are: "Why are the gods angry with us?" "Have the ancestors forsaken us?" "What did we do wrong?" "How do we rectify this situation?" Responses from the oracle would vary from one situation to another. But it may result, as in the case of the Bamana of Mali whose chi wara headdresses are a specimen of creative elegance, in the people being advised to commission masks and dance with them.

In some cases, the oracle may reveal that the ancestors had been angered through a misdeed. There would be need for propitiation. Sacrifices may be ordered to be offered at the community shrine. This may involve the appearance of masquerades to cleanse the society of the desecration. Several carved figures, masks and masquerades in African art serve this purpose of atoning for a misdeed, cleansing any defilement, purifying the soil, supplicating for rain or asking for a successful harvest.

In this connection, art objects which are the usual physical elements of a shrine become the platform through which ancestral biddings are met. Sacrificial objects vary. In general, emphasis is placed upon edible things. Thus, animals such as pigeons, rats, chickens, snails, rams, goats and at times cows, may be sacrificed. What the ancestors need most is the blood of these animals, which is poured on the art objects in the shrine. Kola nuts, millet beer or palm wine, palm oil, corn and beans are some of the objects that may be used for sacrifice. Pieces of prepared dishes are also fed to the objects. It is the cumulative effect of this which produces the compulsive additiveness noted in some artworks, or the heavy encrustations on some of them. In many instances, encrustations are indicative of the degree of veneration which is attached to the spirit or medium personified by the art object.

YORUBA ART

Among the Yoruba of Nigeria, for example, numerous sculptures reveal this preoccupation with procreation; thousands of houseposts reinforce this love for children. The carver of almost every type of carving ranging from a Sango staff to Ifa divination bowls, from masks to ibeji (twins) figures, seizes on the least excuse to include a woman, sometimes with a baby on the back, in kneeling or standing position and surrounded at times by children.

Bare-breastedness in Yoruba sculpture does not have any indecent associations. It is regarded as complimentary since fullness of breasts is considered as a mark of ideal womanhood; breasts being a source of milk for babies and an aspect of aesthetic beauty. A Yoruba proverb confirms this: "Funfun niyi eyin, gigun rege niyi orun omu sikisiki niyi obinrin." Literally, this means that "Whiteness is the glory of teeth, roundness is the glory of neck, full robust breasts glorify womanhood."

MASKS AND MASQUERADE

 Finally, let us look at one spectacular feature of many African societies: the festival. It is a spectacle that serves as a theater where the secular and the spiritual interact. It is festivals which provide perhaps the single most important and widespread platform for appreciating not only masks and masquerades but also the arts in their totality. Masking traditions in many African societies have remained very popular, in spite of conversions to Islamic or Christian doctrines. One reason why this is so is that festivals, called by whatever name in various African societies, are usually moving spectacles, kaleidoscopes of colors in which the relationship between the secular and the spiritual is reinforced, and the complementarities between art and life are reinvigorated. Festivals -- particularly those involving the appearance of masquerades -- are total arts par excellence. For it is at a festival that the drummer talks in rhythms to the masquerader who in turn responds with the appropriate dance steps. Poetry finds resonance in the mouth of the singers while, in some situations, the theatrical and demonstrative musicality of masquerades explodes under colorful costumes.

Masqueraders move in pairs or, as is more common, in droves, amidst pomp and pageantry, with their acolytes drumming, chanting and, of course, dancing. Masks are hardly carved for mere aesthetic considerations; they are conceived of more in terms of their social functions. The purpose determines the birth of the mask. Their functions vary a great deal, ranging from entertainment to religion, from judicial to political administration. There are masqueraders who challenge man's physical and athletic fitness, just as there are those who test the efficacy of their medicine on others. Medicine as used in this context does not mean drugs, which are prescribed by medical personnel. It is made of powerful herbal concoctions, believed to be capable of exerting supernatural control over victims. There are masqueraders who police boys gathered for initiation at the camps, ensuring that they receive the usual traditional education.

In the majority of cases, masqueraders are regarded as ancestors reincarnated. Among the Dan of Cote d'Ivoire, masks are not mere carving. Once the carver has completed the carving, usually on commission, it becomes charged. It assumes a corporate, extraordinary existence. Among the Dan, as indeed among many other groups in Africa, a mask is not a mask. It is the material essence of a spirit. The spirit does not reside in the mask; it is the mask. Whether a mask is used or unused, it is not neglected or discarded. It is respected and consulted on important occasions, until it disintegrates or is invited to inhabit a replacement mask.

There are societies where masks cannot be conceived in isolation from costumes -- where there is in fact no equivalent English word for masks, which

are simply referred to as spiritual entities. Despite the spiritualness of masquerades, human beings as ordinary mortals continue to intercede to ensure smooth and successful proceedings as festivals, to prevent ugly accidents or forestall unpleasant developments. For this reason, emphasis is placed on the procurement of apotropaic medicines, some of which come in liquid, solid or powdery form, to be bathed with, consumed or rubbed into the skin, after appropriate incisions have been made. Some substances are sewn into small leather containers and worn on the body as charms and amulets, or built into the masks themselves.

Festivals could occur on cyclical basis or on such rare occasions as obsequies for an important personage. They could occur in connection with traditional observances meant to cleanse the society, promote group solidarity, ensure security and maintain law and order. In most of these cases, masqueraders appear in their brilliant costumes. The costumes may be made from raffia, jute bag, nettings, brilliantly colored cloths which are made into dazzling applique works. They can also be made from other composite materials. Often, cowries, animal skulls, horns, and skins, small gourds containing medicine and birds' feathers add to the awesomeness of masquerades.

Drumming, dancing, chanting and compelling theatricality constitute a regular feature. Masqueraders dance according to designation and characterization. Ferocious and wild ones who are often temperamental and impatient usually task their drummers, as these have to walk, skip, or even run while maintaining appropriate rhythmic tempo. Audience participation is total, intensive and elastic. The audience moves with the colorful spectacle, and since only a few privileged and deserving members of the community have designated seats at the arena, the standing audience contracts and expands in response to the movements of the performing masqueraders.

It is impossible to exhaust the several overlapping levels at which art reinforces life in traditional Africa. We can only note, in conclusion, that a lot of African art pieces are, in some respect, emblematic of artistic decapitation. Taken out of context, masks stare at us coldly in museums, through bared teeth or hollowed eyes, from within beautifully crafted Japanese glass encasements. In private collections, African artworks become transfixed on the mantlepiece or in wooden cubicles, bathed in a caressing interplay of lights, but with very little or no reference -- suggested or amplified -- to their contextual use or significance. Although we derive pleasure in appreciating these objects ex-situ, there is the danger of their being unduly romanticized.

It is a danger that can be avoided if we would allow the arts to lead us into renewing our contact with Africa, and into a greater and more intimate appreciation of the cultures and the peoples of the continent.

  From:

The African Aesthetic: Keeper of the Traditions

(This Article has been edited for copywright and other purposes)