The Art Hedger, “the accidental, intuitive collector, who over decades of speaking with artists…,” catches up with Issa Sylla, who was in Kenya. He encourages Issa to check out the local art scene.
While in the throes of a “Pandemic Lockdown,” Issa seizes an opportunity to visit art galleries in Nairobi. He empathetically connects with the images and artists (they speak to him, as Richard Nattoo and the German Romantics would say). The art works spark meaningful and genuine connections between Issa and the Art Makers. He comes away from the experience with a deeper understanding of himself and the realization that he shared much in common with the artists. He leaves with a keener sense of the place. Yes, Art sparks dialogue, connections, stories, lends perspective from which we can gather meaning and it can deliver happiness, even in a Pandemic.
About the Guest Author
Born in Guinea, Issa Sylla immigrated to the United States 20 years ago. He is currently pursuing a master’s degrees in Business Administration and Health Policy at the University of Virginia, Darden School of Business and Stanford University, respectively. He is interested in exploring the intersection of health economics, policy, and outcomes.
According to Issa:
“…I have always been fascinated by the arts, but I most naturally gravitated towards East Asian comics, music, and dance. While I took contemporary dance courses as an undergrad – thanks to Dartmouth’s liberal arts curriculum – it was not until after I graduated and started traveling that music and dance became even more focal parts of my life.”
Part I: A Sense of Place
After a few weeks of conducting technology training sessions for teachers in Kericho, my plan was to visit Nakuru to volunteer at the county hospital. Instead, because of surging COVID19 cases, the government-imposed lockdowns and travel bans in and out of certain counties, Nairobi and Nakuru included, I returned to my apartment in Nairobi West with a lot more time on my hands. With most healthcare workers consumed by the pandemic, Nairobi’s borders, gyms, dance studios closed, and an 8pm curfew in place, I was short on activities. While most places were closed, this was my opportunity to do the touristy things I had avoided after months in Kenya. This was my chance to engage with the communities that probably knew the best about Kenyan society.
After Google-searching different combinations of phrases containing “studio” and “gallery,” I settled on a few search results. However, after several failed attempts to find open galleries during the pandemic, I eagerly asked my local friends to point me in the right direction. That’s how I found myself at Lisa Christoffersen’s LifeStyle Gallery, a 25-minute boda-boda ride from where I was staying in Nairobi West. The gallery was within walking distance from the Swedish, US, Oman, Turkish embassies among others.
The two-floor, multi-roomed gallery was tucked away along a long dirt road, accessible only after passing security guards and a traffic barrier. At the entrance were small antiques, and photographs of Maasai warriors. Once inside, a staircase to the right led upstairs. Along the wall of the staircase, I discovered Coster Ojwang’s works-- luckily his pieces were clearly labeled. Upstairs, in a room of its own, the colors and movements in a larger painting caught my eye. I wanted to learn about the artist. I messaged Lisa to get the name of the artist: Patrick Mukabe. I googled both artists, filtering through multiple links before finding pages that contained their contact information. After my SMS texts failed, I resorted to WhatsApp messages to which both Coster and Patrick responded immediately.
Coster’s Studio
A few days later I am in Coster’s studio, located in Santac Estate along Ngong Road. Arriving at his steps, a half-past 11a.m. that Sunday, I was not sure what to expect. He opened his door dressed in a smock and rain boots, with a paint brush in one hand. (I found out later that he was in the middle of working on a commissioned piece.) I entered a room of paintings, some completed and others works-in-progress. I did not know where to start. I wanted to ask him about each and every one.
As he showed me around, I told him the story of how I found his pieces at Lisa’s gallery. He showed me the series from which those pieces came, and he highlighted a piece - I am My Father (the painting above). The work was a portrait: a blend of him and his father. I am My Father sparked an hour-long back and forth exchange of stories about our fathers, our childhoods, and families.
We had a lot in common, from being the misfit last child, our curious relationship with our fathers, to our interests in rugby-- only Coster was smart enough to quit before being injured.
Looking at the painting, I asked myself, how does my father's identity determine who I am? Ethnically, I am Susu, my tribal affiliation passed down patrilineally.
Raised by my grandmother, I grew up identifying more with her tribe, Fulah, and speaking Fulani.
Moving to the US at a young age, any hope of learning Susu was lost.
Yet to this day, my aunts and uncles on my father’s side pretend they do not know that I can’t speak Susu and they blame my dad for failing to pass down his culture.
In one of coster’s rooms was a project about identity. He was stitching together various pieces of textile, each with its own pattern. Together, the patterns would be a quilt, an amalgamation of African Identities. On the topic, “What does it mean to be African?” he asked. “Is it being born on the continent? Being born to parents who were born here? Is it your skin color?”
I told him about my experience moving to the US at a young age and finding myself living in two worlds: one defined by my parents and the other defined by society. To my parents, especially my mother, I was Guinean and by extension, African. To New York, I was just Black and very much so, African-American passing. We spoke about the nuances of Blackness by geography. I told him about my experiences visiting Cuba and coming away with an appreciation of Afro-Cubano culture after a trip to Havana.
He gave me his Black-African outsider perspective, looking in from a distance of 7,000 miles, made closer by social media,from where much of his understanding of the American Black Lives Matter movement came.
We spoke about Marvel’s Black Panther and the rise and diffusion of Afrobeats music as adding extra complexity around the notion of African-ness.
With more time we would have dug deeper into our conversation about identities, but the time grew near to return home; I quietly reflected on my journey in this special place... a place connected to me, the world and generating meaning due to a talented group of amazing artists creating and sharing their gifts.
About the Artist (We will be doing a blog on Coster Ojwang later)
Coster Ojwang is a Kenyan artist. He studied at the Mwangaza Art School in Kisumu and graduated in 2015. His art practice is in Nairobi, Kenya.
As an artist, I believe that painting should be a celebration of life, places we have been, people we have interacted with and the general beauty that surround. I am a devoted student of light, colour, design and form. From these I get my inspirations…”