A CONVERSATION WITH VICTOR EHIKHAMENOR

By Desola Kazeem

At the start of 2018, I had the privilege of visiting the studio of one of Nigeria's leading visual artist-writer-photographer multihyphenates, our 2017 Venice Biennale conqueror, Victor Ehikhamenor. Upon first impression, he stood out from many other members of the Nigerian art scene I have interacted with, in his warmth and reception. Willing and skilled at switching conversation from the most casual of topics like the meal he was having, to the deepest of geopolitical discourse on identity, religion and economic crises, it is very easy to converse with Victor Ehikhamenor.

Illustration by Desola Kazeem (@subqulture)

Ehikhamenor had a very interesting, and very public 2017. Between his exhibitions and published writings, he represented Nigeria (and almost didn’t) at our first showcase at the Venice Biennale. Notably, he received international attention for his sarcastic but heartfelt social media critique of Damien Hirst’s piece “Golden Heads (Female)”, which is a gilded recreation of one of Nigeria’s famous Ife heads. His issue with the piece lay in the fact that there was no adequate accreditation of the work to the Ife Yoruba people, beyond the accompanying text which told a tongue-in-cheek fictional history of the creation of the piece (as was part of that particular exhibition). Ehikhamenor’s knee-jerk reaction to seeing the head- which is one many of us West African international art enthusiasts know well- was proliferated in the world through major media- from the New York Times and CNN to Gal-dem.

Left: Ife brass cast head. Right: Damien Hirst's sculpture. 

Upon reflection on the year, he summarizes the saga as his observations being taken out of context. If you follow him on Instagram, he says, he is known for his sarcastic, satirical and on-the-spot commentary on everything he experiences in his travels. Colonialism, he says, is the sensitive issue here. “Golden Heads (Female)” was part of the exhibition, “Treasures from the Wreck of the Unbelievable”- which included the Sphinx and other famous art imagery. Ehikhamenor didn’t- and still doesn’t- care if Hirst had wishes to take pieces and inspiration from all cultures of the world. He continues to stress, that our specific colonial history- especially with regards to the ownership of our ancient artwork- is one which others could never truly understand, and to which special care must be taken when referencing.

Colonialism quickly became a long thread of conversation with him. Going back and forth with him- even if you are a stranger- is very much like talking to an intelligent friend or family member, and cannot easily be condensed into a simple essay. Conversation ranges from the messy politics of city life to petty observations of art personalities in Lagos and the chaos that is corruption in Nigerian politics (as is the natural home base of every conversation amongst Nigerians). The conversation takes an interesting turn when I mention the ease with which he opens his art world to outsiders. In our short conversation, multiple guests, family friends, and curious art enthusiasts of all ages stride in and out of his art space- including where he actually creates his work. He says that there are two types of people and two types of artists: those that want to talk and those who may want to talk but cannot intellectualize themselves. While we must respect different types of personalities, he seems hopeful that more of our artists- of which contemporary Nigeria is teeming with-will come out of their shell. Embracing the general public better, in his opinion, better helps this blooming industry flourish.

His experience on the first Nigerian Pavilion at the 57th Venice Biennale was a complicated one. It was fraught with several near-disasters, but in true Nigerian fashion, the chaos ended with a beautiful showcase and a career-defining moment for one of our most important modern West African creators. The importance of our visibility at the Biennale, he explains to me, is in making history. It is bittersweet when he expands on this by saying that our general public might not fully understand it yet. It is for the future, he says, it’s not exactly for now. 

Victor Ehikhamenor, A Biography of the Forgotten. 2017. Venice Biennale.

Our conversation journeyed between these topics and many more: apprenticeship, art education and the financial legitimacy of art careers. But again, a simple essay does not do it justice. Victor Ehikhamenor is one of the warmer and more youth-welcoming members of the elusive Nigerian art scene- and any opportunity to speak to him yourself should be taken. The main take away from my conversation with him is that change begins with the mind. I have a lot of personal emotional investment in the growth of the Nigerian media and cultural scene- as I genuinely believe this will significantly affect how I view the conceit of living back in my messy, chaotic Lagos. His educative, social and opinionated approach to the art world is a valuable perspective that we could all stand to gain from. With the strengthening of the Nigerian art and tourism world, comes the strengthening of public consciousness and the rehabilitation of a broken nation.

In 2018, Mr. Ehikhamenor has exciting projects underway- including a new art centre below his studio, a fantastic Nigerian art-deco Airbnb, and a special new project with a major media conglomerate.