By Stephanie Amata
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| Taiye Idahor at the private view of her exhibition. |
Lagos-born Benin artist, Taiye Idahor has been on a steady rise in her career. Her latest bloom is her current solo exhibition, Òkhùo, which takes place in London's African Diaspora-centric Tyburn gallery following Victor Ehikhamenor's (also a Benin artist) In The Kingdom of This World. The exhibition features 3 sets of work. Firstly, Òkhùo - which consists of collaged outlines of women using images of Benin coral beads on photo paper. Secondly, Ivie - also featuring collaged images of coral beads, but on tracing paper. Lastly, one part of The Embryo Series - a set separate from the two on display - consisting of braided newspaper collaged against a light blue backdrop and the other part, not featured in the gallery, steel wool sculptures. Bunmi Agusto, our trusted friend here at A'naala and I caught up with Idahor to ask her a few questions after attending the private view of the exhibition on the 8th of February, focusing, in particular, on the theme of feminine power.
In Òkhùo you discuss the absence of women in power but what kind of power is it?
I am referring to an innate power, not something that is acquired, but something that exists already. For me, I see women as having that power. It just comes with being a woman already. But the absence I’m talking about is that women may not be aware that they have that kind of power. Hence, the absence that I create in the work. For example, I reference Queen Idia from the beads and royalty and everything, but it's not looking at that - it’s just a reference. But it’s speaking more to an innate power that comes with the feminine being.
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| Taiye Idahor. Oghogho, 2017. |
Where did this come from? Anything that may have prompted you to start this conversation?
I can't say there is anything specific, to be honest. I think just my daily life. Living in Lagos is a huge influence because daily I’m thinking about my existence in that kind of society and culture. How do I live? How do I respond to things around me? It’s just a conversation that I usually have with myself.
The beginning of this [Òkhùo] project - where it all started from - was based on an exhibition I took part in in 2014. [The exhibition] was 100 years of Benin City. It was happening in Benin and I really wanted to be a part of [it] and connect with home in some way. I’ve lived in Lagos all my life so I have this disconnect from home. For me, that exhibition was just an opportunity to spend some time in Benin and just do some work. Prior to that, I had been exploring the subject of women already so I wanted to remain on that. But at the time, the Oba of Benin had just passed away and they were preparing the son to ascend the throne and of course as they prepared the son, they prepared the mother to ascend her throne for her title as Iyoba. At that time, there were stories going on about whether she was going to be allowed to take up the title or not. That’s why I started to look at the absence that was already being created by this woman. It was important because chiefs are usually men. You have the king who is a man and all the chiefs that work under him are men as well. You have this one title that a woman could occupy -and there's all this controversy that regards whether she could take up the title or not. That was why I really started to think about the vacant spaces that women leave and the consequences that regard such situations. Before then actually, the main reason I was also interested in that, was that I had just done an exhibition prior to 100 years based on the absence of my grandmother in my family and looking at the consequences of her absence. Now, I'm moving forward to look at this absence again, created by another woman. So it just kind of happened. Now I’m looking at women generally, their absence from who they really are, their identity and the spaces they should occupy - not necessarily seats of power, but just accepting the strength that they have as women.
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| Taiye Idahor. Hairvolution. |
Is that something you want people to see specifically or is it open, because there is a duality in the work, in the use of beads where Ivie means beauty and beads?
Well, the thing about art in general is, I don’t think you can always think for people. I make the work and there’s a place from where I make it. However, I will not always be present with every piece and it's not every time there will be information available to every piece. So there is always that room for people to interpret the work as they please and for me, it's fine. But then I think it's quite obvious and even without meeting the artist or having any information, just a little research on beads and their origin already points you to Benin City. For me, that’s what's really important - that when you see the work it connects to Benin. Whichever way you want to interpret it, there’s that connection to my hometown.
On the topic of Benin, how has growing up in Lagos affected how you perceive Benin?
How I perceive Benin? I mean Benin is Benin. I think maybe the question is how do I connect with home now. I have a better connection with home now through my work. I think my work is now becoming my way to connect with home. That's what it is. It is my way of consoling myself that I’ve missed so much, that I wish I could speak my language better and all those things. It’s my only consolation I guess.
You have the smaller set of work here, "Embryo Series", can you tell us what that is about?
First of all, the Embryo series is separate from this [Òkhùo] work. It’s a very simple series. When I started it, I was looking at life and death. People think it’s quite morbid, but that’s part of life. Life is about birth and death. It’s inevitable. Although people never want to talk about it, it was a subject I really wanted to confront with that series. Where there’s birth, there’s already death ahead - whether you want to accept it or not. That was what the embryo series was about. It’s a combination of sculpture as well. The collage and drawings were more to convey the birth, and sculptures were more about death. Because there was this steel wool that was rusting, and rust is a form of decay and death, embryos are signs of life. The colour scheme is also a part of the work in looking at how we genderise colour. When a baby is born, blue - it’s a boy, pink - it's a girl. The titles I gave the work are also boy names - a sign of a child coming. It was playing with the ideas of life and death.
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| Taiye Idahor. Osarume #1, 2017. Collage on paper. |
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| Taiye Idahor. The day we are born is the day we begin to die, 2015. Steel wool. |
And the other set here, "Ivie", is there a reason behind the different choice of colour and material?
For the Ivie series, colour has no significance, to be honest. When I started the series, they were on transparent paper - and I wanted paper because these are delicate subjects. When I was in Benin, when it came to things of the palace, people didn’t like to speak about it. It’s just respect that they have that you don’t speak about certain issues. It is a very hush-hush thing - a very delicate subject. For people who even tried to talk about it, it was in corners. Which is why I used that kind of paper. This kind of soft and transparent paper to reveal that delicate nature of the subject. Also, they were not framed. I had just about 3 or 4 [sheets] just hanging on a line and for me, it was to reveal that they were vulnerable- because it was outside affected by the wind, sun and everything. For paper, usually you would frame to keep away from light, from air and those kinds of things - but they were exposed. So for me, it was a way of showing that delicate subject matter. That’s the main project but over time, you want to expand and try your work on other surfaces and see how it is. So the colour, not so much significance but the transparency - yes.
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| Taiye Idahor. Ivie, 2017. |
We’ll see how it goes. When I started the work earlier, I collected a lot of beads. I was hoping to do something with it but I still haven’t. But I’m sure I will. I always somehow like to bring sculptural elements into my work - if space permits. I think most times, space to create sculpture is usually the limitation that I face. I think that’s one of the reasons why for now.
Òkhùo is on at Tyburn Gallery in London until the 9th of May be sure to check out the fantastic exhibition!
