ALEXIS PESKINE.

By Dami Ayo-Vaughn

“It’s really weird to be in a space where you get love and you have to be mad, you almost feel like a fraud.”

“The reception I received in London was beautiful,” says Alexis Peskine, “I got all this love.” The French-Brazilian artist is reflecting on his debut solo exhibition in London, Power Figures, which ran at the October Gallery between September and October. “Not that people in Paris don’t give me this warmth, but it felt like people in London were really listening, we're trying to understand my point of view and were respecting it and I felt that.”

We are sat in the café of the October Gallery; two hours have passed since the exhibitions final showing. Dressed in a tweed blazer, a brown shirt, bow tie and orange trousers, Peskine looks more like an academic than an artist. He sips on a glass of red wine and soaks up the silence in the room. “It was a very draining project,” he says, “physically and mentally.” 

I tell him that the reception makes it worthwhile. Grateful as he is for the reception, he worries about how it will affect his work: “It’s funny you have all this anger but after a while you get all this love and it’s like you try and stay connected to that anger and the people who are in the struggle {black experience},” he says, with his eyes fixed on mine. “It’s really weird to be in a space where you get love and you have to be mad, you almost feel like a fraud. But you have to wake up and feel connected because it’s still happening. You can’t forget the struggle. For me, it’s important to go back to what’s going on and the injustices.”

Power Figures

Born in France, to a Franco-Russian father, the son of a Jewish refugee, and an Afro-Brazilian mother from Bahia, Brazil, Peskine grew up in a multicultural family, of which he is deeply proud: “To grow up with so much culture to me was a richness. My father is French and Russian, but he loved Brazilian culture; that’s where he met my mother, he spoke Portuguese really well and was interested in the culture. They taught it to me and I harboured it. They represented it and I wasn’t ashamed of it.”

Peskine’s multicultural identity is something which has informed much of his work, with the concept of identity being a recurring fixture in his projects. His latest project, Power Figures, explores identity and the Black Experience of people in Congo.

Using nails as his central medium, Peskine produced large-scale portraits of Congolese people, alongside photographs of children. The use of metal forced into the wood refers to the Minkisi “power figures” of the Congo Basin, whose function it was to keep evil spirits away. The portraits are stunning. Peskine captures the beauty of the black skin in a truly remarkable way. ‘The Architects of New Djenné is perhaps the standout portrait amongst the set, with the gaze of the figure conveying a sense of both tranquillity and frustration.

Abdou Slide

This pride in his culture did not come so easily. The second of four children – all boys – Peskine grew up predominantly in France, but visited Brazil often. As fond, as he is of his childhood Peskine admits he faced “uneasy episodes”, having to deal with discrimination and racism in France. In Brazil, he faced a country where the standards of beauty were overwhelmingly white and Eurocentric, despite possessing the largest black population outside of Africa.

Did being a mixed-race person make it easier? “It’s easier, but it’s funny because people tend to misunderstand. A lot of white folks will say ‘you’re as white as you’re black’. Yes, on paper, but in the experience, it’s not as simple as that. I could go into the black community and black people could see me as black, I would be welcomed as a black person. Now, if I go running around saying I’m white everybody is going to look at me like I’m crazy. So, this is not really the truth.” He pauses momentarily. It is a touchy subject. “When I was a teenager, getting ID checked by the police violently, getting racist insults, I couldn’t be like ‘Oh hey I’m half-white take it easy’. Maybe you get discriminated less than if you are darker, but when you’re in a racist situation you can’t pull out the mixed card. I definitely have to acknowledge colourism. I’m really aware of it, it’s real. But, that doesn’t take away from the {black} experience.”

Peskine’s understanding of the Black Experience growing up was chiefly informed by his parents: “I was fortunate enough to have parents who despite not being the most educated people on the question of Blackness, knew certain things and educated me the best they could,” he says. “They took me to marches against racism, gave me the books on Afro-Brazilian culture, we watched Roots.” Despite being grateful for his parents’ efforts, Peskine admits it wasn’t enough. “They gave me what they had in their hands, which was good and better than a lot of people, but I knew some people who were fortunate enough to know about African history prior to colonialism. I didn’t have that.”

At the age of 17, he was spotted at the Nike camp and moved to America to play basketball. This helped get into Howard University, where having to choose a major he chose Painting and Photography: “I naturally went to that because I’ve always been interested in that field. My whole family is in the arts, so I kind of grew on that.” Being in Howard, Peskine’s understanding of the Black Experience changed immensely as it helped fill the gaps of what he knew growing up. “I was blessed to have gone to Howard University, it’s a school full of teachers that teach you black history. I learnt a lot of stuff.”

Aljana Moons Doudou

An important lesson Howard taught Peskine was how to treat the black skin in shoots: “In our photography class we would talk about the grey card, but would mention that it’s not for us {black people}. We used it like everybody else but being in an environment where (what) you’re going to shoot is black, you have to learn how to shoot them and I was aware of that as soon as I learnt photography because I was in that school.”

Aljana Moons Twins Sleeping

Having lived in America and spent time in the UK, where race issues are in spotlight, Peskine is frustrated that this is not so in France: “In London and a lot of American cities, even with the racism that occurs, people are much more open to talk about racial dynamics and acknowledge the discrepancies, compared to France,” he says.

“France is hypocrisy at its height. I think we might be the country with the biggest black population in the whole of Europe, and still, people don’t want to address these questions. They do not want to acknowledge race-based discrimination. They are fragile.”

He runs his hands through his hair. “A lot of people think they are open-minded, but they are not. You have a lot of people who think of themselves as liberal or intellectuals who will be advocates for white supremacy and will not confront that. People see it as either you’re the KKK or you’re open-minded, but it’s not like that. You could be open-minded, have gone to school, have friends of all colours and sexualities, but still say ignorant things or not acknowledge people’s pains. That is what is done a lot in France. They don’t understand those dynamics. It’s very much swept under the rug and it’s very frustrating.”

Peskine’s biggest frustration with France is its efforts to prevent minorities from building communities. “Whether it’s the UK or US, they have cultures based on communities and understand people need communities, whereas in France it’s seen as threatening the norm of whiteness. When you’re in an environment that is fully white and discriminating against other people, thus performing the biggest act of communitarianism, but they don’t call it that, even though the biggest act of communitarianism is whiteness.”

Peskine is worried about coming off as ‘an angry black man’. In this situation, however, there is no other way to feel. Conversations on racial issues in France have been slow, with the Constitution banning the collection of race statistics. This, in turn, has made it harder to shed a light on racial issues in France. It would be wrong to suggest that data could help remove racism in one swoop, but it can at least point the light in a direction, and be used to inform decisions, policies and fight denial.

The government is, he believes, only making things worse. Their spreading of misleading information is leaving him worried about the future. “France is still exploiting a number of countries in Africa, making themselves rich, yet complaining about migrants coming. The government acts a certain way and then the media who work for government defuse certain information to the masses and make them think a certain way and not to be honest,” he says. “People don’t have time to deconstruct the information they are being fed. They see TV and media as the gospel, the news is the truth, so if they are lying most people are living on a fake truth. These altered truths cause people to act a certain way, especially in times of crisis and find a scapegoat.”

Is it the role of the artists to counter this? Should we expect artists to point people to the truth? “I can’t say what other artists’ job is, but I decided that it is for me. So, I’m trying to do it. My job is to be honest as an artist. I’m not going to force people to talk about conscious things ‘cause that would be fake. It has to come from within,” he says. “I think as human beings it is our duty. We have a duty as a society, and a society is a bunch of individuals, so as individuals we should do that. It’s true as an artist I have a platform and can influence a lot of people, but we should all do it.

“I can’t judge someone who wants to escape from it {racial issues} and enjoy a moment without being beat over the head with race. But, it’s like being in a war zone and trying to walk over dead bodies like they are not there when they are.”

Carefully he sits up on his chair. “All humans try to better themselves. We can all mess up, we can all do or say the wrong thing. I have done and said things that are wrong. The thing is to fix yourself after you make a mistake. To reassess yourself. To not do it continuously. Try and understand what you did and why it’s wrong.”

Photos of Alexis Peskine taken by Dami Ayo-Vaughn.

RECLAIMING THE AFRICAN NARRATIVE AND REDEFINING 'AFRICAN'

An academic report by Bunmi Agusto. 

In the past, the recording and preservation of history had not been taken seriously enough in some African countries. A prime example is my home country Nigeria. When I was a child, History –as a subject- was scrapped from the country’s national curriculum so I was hardly taught Nigerian history let alone Nigerian art history. I had to go out of my way to find books and articles about the masks and sculptures that make up most of Nigeria’s rich art history. However, whilst conducting all this research, I discovered something: Western authors and researchers had and have been the ones recording and preserving our history for us.

“If Africans do not tell their own stories, Africa will soon disappear.”

 - Ousmane Sembene. 

The desire to finally extensively record Art History from an African’s perspective has come at a crucial time. Although we have seen African artists succeed internationally in the past, we are no longer in the age of postcolonial modernism. We are no longer just living in a post-colonialism, post-empire world; we are in the age of the diaspora and we are in the age of globalisation. There is no longer a single unified point of view of a culture or from a culture. This has led to shows like the 1:54 Contemporary African Art Fair which annually exhibits the work of African Artists in London, New York and now Marrakech. I was lucky enough to attend the fair in London in October where the works of two artists –Lina Iris Viktor and Kudzanai-Violet Hwami- grabbed my attention. As children of the diaspora, Viktor was raised in London by her Liberian parents whilst Hwami was raised in Zimbabwe but received a portion of her education in London. Therefore, I shall be analysing each of the solo exhibitions held in London by these two African artists who have been highly influenced by the London Art Scene and now represent a sector of it. As Stuart Elliot said during his lecture Making The Rounds, at every point in history, there is a dominant culture, residual culture and an emerging culture. Therefore, I see the work of Viktor, Hwami and myself as part of the emerging African culture.

Lina Viktor’s Exhibition at the Amar Gallery

Kudzanai-Violet Hwami’s Exhibition at the Tyburn Gallery

The title of an exhibition helps define the context in which the artist made a collection of artworks. Subsequently, both exhibitions have highly significant titles which hint at the idea of being a member of the diaspora. The title of Hwami’s exhibition is 'If You Keep Going South You’ll Meet Yourself' which suggests that one needs to travel and be moulded by different experiences and cultures to truly be able to know oneself.

“The beauty of being a child of the diaspora is that we are able to reinvent ourselves and what it means to be African.”

 -Kudzanai-Violet Hwami

As previously stated, there is no longer a single unified view of a culture and Hwami recognises that. Whilst studying in London, Hwami was able to adopt a different standpoint and view her home country from an outsider’s point of view. Although Zimbabwe has suffered from dictatorship and other hardships, Hwami is hopeful for the future of her nation and that is why she chooses to present “a futuristic vision of African life, a fictional utopia filled with creativity and without borders.” On the other hand, Viktor chose to give her exhibition the title 'Black Exodus' which alludes to the biblical story of the Israelites migrating out of Egypt in search for better lives and also draws parallels to the migration of Africans over the years. Although Hwami is hopeful for the future of Africans, Viktor is more troubled and curious about the future of Africans dispersed all over the world if society continues on its tangent of prejudice. Fundamentally, Viktor has a realist approach rather than Hwami’s optimistic one. I personally identify as more of a realist than an optimist but I appreciate Hwami’s view and the vision of Africans presented when she and Viktor’s work are put side-by-side.

A curious similarity between both exhibition spaces is that they are both underground, almost suggesting that post-modernism contemporary African art is a still a hidden treasure waiting to be unearthed and brought to the spotlight. In addition, both underground exhibitions lack windows and this excludes the outside environment for the viewers and makes them feel like they have truly travelled to a different space. This effect enhances the works of both artists as it complements the idea of the travelling aspect of the diasporic lifestyle.

On the other hand, there is a stark difference between the rooms holding each exhibition; Black Exodus is in a dark, black room whilst If You Keep Going South You’ll Meet Yourself is in a bright, white room. The contrasting spaces emphasise the difference in the artists’ perspectives on the direction in which the story of Africans and their migration is going in. In some illustrations of Africa during the 4 colonial eras such as in Joseph Conrad’s novel Heart of Darkness, the continent is often referred to as the “dark continent” in need of enlightenment and Viktor plays with this idea using the space and lighting of her exhibition and the works themselves. In the all black room, there is a suggestion that one’s journey is ambiguous and mysterious; however, the spotlights illuminate these golden artworks that draw the viewers in. Within these artworks are elusive black figures that blend in with the space as well as golden symbols. 

Pictures I took of VIktor's work in 'Black Exodus'.

The gold lines and patterns allude to Egyptian hieroglyphics which in itself gives an example of the benefits of Africans narrating their own stories. Unlike most Africans, Egyptians narrated their own history through hieroglyphics written in stone rather than orally and this has allowed their representations of their people to not be susceptible to alterations and therefore to be viewed as majestic and dignified, unlike many African countries which were seen as savage and primitive. The elusive black figures in Viktor’s work are photographs of the artist herself covered in black paint which makes her work an example of her taking charge of her own narratives. The figures are mostly camouflaged within the background but are made obvious with their gold hair; this creates dystopian images of a majestic creature forced into hiding and irrelevance by society. Oddly, although both artists are presenting narratives of Africans of the diaspora. Black Exodus is a representation of a dystopian world for Africans while If You Keep Going South You’ll Meet Yourself is utopian.

Violet Hwami’s ‘Family Portrait’.

Hwami’s vision of a fictional African utopia is amplified through the vibrancy of the colour she uses and it comes to life due to the fact that most of her paintings are life-sized. On the contrary to Viktor’s Black Exodus, Hwami defines her intentions as wanting “the portrayal to be playful and fun,” she adds that she “definitely [doesn’t] want to convey a negative image of the characters in [her] paintings”. Hwami, as an African narrator, has chosen not to present the Zimbabwean characters in a negative light and although this may be a biased narration, it is certainly different from western narrations of Africans. Hwami’s method involves using old family photos and manipulating them using a computer software before finally painting them. Therefore, there is nothing primitive about Hwami’s work; she is able to refer to her past African life in a modern way and her paintings appear slightly unfinished and manipulated, almost as if they too are being altered and shaped by the experience of being a part of the diaspora. This method and its effect on the final appearance of the paintings coupled with the exhibition’s title shows Hwami’s opinion of how diverse experiences help to form a more complicated sense of identity for an African such as herself.

Images of my ongoing work. 

Like Viktor, I tend to work with self-portraits and images of people I take pictures of in my everyday life. However, I never thought to make the connection that I was doing it to present my side of the African narrative. Often when I go home to Nigeria, I get comments from older Nigerians saying my work is “not African enough” and they also ask why some faces are so dramatic and sad. Now, I see my work as a mid-point between Viktor and Hwami’s work; I am more critical of the societies I have lived in as well as both the restrictions and benefits of tradition in African culture. Furthermore, I have concluded that I am not sure where the Nigerian story is going. A single perspective does not always make an accurate unbiased story but it is a piece of the puzzle. Hwami and Viktor’s exhibitions in London are puzzle pieces that form a part of the picture of emerging African and diasporic culture. Thanks to these artists and their exhibitions, I no longer see not being “African enough” as an insult but to see it as validation that I am neither part of dominant Nigerian culture nor of residual Nigerian culture; I am part of an emerging diasporic culture that will one day be dominant.

VICTOR EHIKHAMENOR: MERGING CULTURES.

Hi guys, Steph here. I don't know if you've heard of Victor Ehikhamenor before but between his powerful and diverse art and his carefully captioned Instagram posts, this writer and artist is another person to keep an eye on in Nigeria's exciting and ever-growing art scene.

Following his installation at the 57th Venice Biennale this year, 'A Biography of the Forgotten', which featured numerous bronze heads that hang over mirrors to signify the exchange of a human life for mirrors during the slave trade, against the backdrop of a canvas painted using symbols from Benin iconography, which Mr Ehikhamenor grew up around, he is holding an exhibition in London's Tyburn Gallery in line with the themes of his Biennale installation, titled 'In the Kingdom of This World'.

Venice Biennale. 'A Biography of the Forgotten', Victor Ehikhamenore, 2017.

Quick side note, this year's Venice Biennale featured the first ever Nigerian Pavillion featuring 2 other artists alongside Mr Ehikhamenor, Peju Alatise and Qudus Onikeku and curated by Emmanuel Iduma and Rele gallery's Adenrele Sonariwo. More on this here.

The title of the exhibition is the same as the title of Cuban novelist, Alejo Carpentier, whose work also draws on history and the pre-colonial and post-colonial worlds of his country to tell his story. Leading up to the private view of his exhibition at Tyburn gallery on the 23rd of November, Mr Ehikhamenor held a talk at SOAS University in London where he extensively discussed his thought process, themes in his work and his roots in Benin City, Edo state.

It was fascinating to listen to him explain how he came to be the artist he is and why he does what he does. A key turning for him in his art, he explained, was going to study in America. It was there where he discovered artists like the acclaimed abstract expressionist, Rothko and thought that the paintings looked similar to those in his hometown, Uwessa, saying 'this is like my grandfather's wall'. This is when it occurred to him that what he had simply grown up around and had passively observed was art. The murals on the walls of his home, the paintings and sculptures in the shrines, the patterns by his grandparents, was all in fact art. Coinciding with this realisation was another one that the same art he had grown up around and the cultures and traditions surrounding it had begun to dwindle and disappear. That way of life and surrounding he had grown up knowing was being swept under the rug by a force very aggressively championed not only in his hometown but all over Nigeria; Christianity, and this seems to be the basis of his work in Tyburn.

Throughout his oeuvre, symbols and iconography present in the murals in the Benin homes and shrines can be found. He has used his work as a time capsule, preserving the memory of his hometown and transferring it on to new media with his own narrative attached. That feeling of passing on stories and tradition is very strong in this exhibition. While he has frequently recreated historical and biblical moments in his work, this one feels more like a folktale. Walking through the white-walled space of Tyburn, I felt like I was a little girl again, being sat down by my grandmother to tell me the history and tradition of my land. The way each piece is titled heavily contributes to the passing of knowledge, they all serve different purposes and establish the world we are presented with. For example, 'I am a Saboteur, waiting for Britain to make me king of Benin', we immediately understand the setting, character, situation and place, its rapid-fire story-telling that brilliantly aids the image.

'I am a saboteur, waiting for Britain to make me king of Benin', 2017. Perforated paper. 

Another example, 'My last dance as King before Sir Harry Rawson's army arrived',  again all the basic story-telling elements are present but it also works to give emotional context to the image, without knowing the title we may not read it the same way.

'My last dance as King before Sir Harry Rawson's army arrived', 2017. Rosary beads on lace textile. 

At this point, it's a bit ludicrous that I haven't fully addressed how Mr Ehikhamenor executes the telling of Benin history as he juxtaposes icons from both Benin tradition and western tradition in the form of Christianity. The bigger pieces, the ones of the Benin Kings and other important figures are made with rosaries and lace textile. We quickly understand the symbolism between the two; the religious connotations of the rosaries and tradition attached to lace. If you don't know much about the relationship between Nigerian clothing and lace, it's one of the primary materials used to make traditional attire.

So is it then religion (christianity) vs tradition? On one level yes, the introduction of Christianity in many communities across the world has rendered the way of life of those people as taboo, devilish and fetish, denouncing their icons, gods and modes of worship as unchristian therefore leading to the obliteration of them. But on the other hand, Mr Ehikhamenor in his talk explained that he is essentially trying to draw similarities between the two cultures. It is apparent in one piece especially, 'I am Ogiso, the King from Heaven'. When you realise how similar it is to the idea of God and Jesus Christ, you begin to see how the Benin tradition is encapsulated within Christianity, which especially rings true with this piece.

'I am Ogiso, the King from Heaven', 2017. Rosary Beads on lace textile. 

Essentially every story and narrative is a permutation of itself, it is human beings that decide which one they believe to be true but it all exists "In the Kingdom of This World", at least that's what I've taken from this body of work.

I thoroughly enjoyed both the talk and exhibition and recommend whoever is in London to visit Tyburn Gallery while the exhibition is still on, it runs till the 20th of January. Until next time guys :*.

GTK: EBUBE ONOH.

Hi A'naala readers, we're back with another artist you should get to know; Ebube Onoh. He is a 20-year old multi-faceted artist ranging in mediums from film to graphic design to photography to painting. He sits comfortably in an understanding of these diverse crafts and is able to hone them to create absolute masterpieces, he's also incredibly funny. Watch the video below!



Here are some of his incredible works of art:

For Odunsi

Photography for JOLAG cover art.