MUST-SEE EXHIBITION: Six Draughtsmen @ MoCADA, Brooklyn, NY | runs until 19 January 2014
Six Draughtsmen highlights the drawing practices of six artists: Wura-Natasha Ogunji, Toyin Odutola, Temitayo Ogunbiyi, Nnenna Okore, Odun Orimolade and Ruby Onyinyechi Amanze (the exhibition curator).
Most of these artists have roots or affiliation with Nigeria, while also working in the U.S.. Although drawing is the practice that’s foregrounded in this exhibition, many of these women are also as installation artists, performance artists, mixed media artists and sculptors alongside drawing. All are interested in “taking mark-making, line, erasure / transparency, memory and process, off the page and into three dimensional space.” Head to MoCADA to see the diverse ways these artists rethink the medium.
See more of these artists’ work via the links above
This is an Imaginary Border, 2009.
A roll of black duct tape was used to separate the North and South sides of Chicago.
Let me find out KL about to be my friend.
Ha! Interview over.
Because apparently this needs to be said: I do not hate individuals, straight, white, abled etc. I do hate oppressive institutions and those that actively uphold them.
Small excerpts from the Lonley Londoner: finding oppositional gaze in exile:
In addition to being constantly aware of my spectator, I am aware of how I am viewed a black person, a woman, and how I view myself as both of those things.
Bell Hooks refers to an oppositional gaze used by Black Americans to defy subjects outside of themselves. When applied to Berger’s theories of spectatorship, oppositional gaze can be applied to looking at oneself. As Patricia Hill Collins explores in her book Black Feminist Thought, Black American woman have constantly suffered a violent and demeaning gaze from outsiders. Using the oppositional gaze Hooks speaks of, to actually become the spectator is an insertion of power. It also, as my work attempts to accomplish, eliminates the spectator’s judgment. In other words using oppositional gaze to look at oneself has the power to redefine the self. Redefinition is an act of resistance.
I displayed my photographs in a pile of 4 X 6 prints, and asked the viewers to pick through them as if they were a pile of family vacation photos. This series might as well be what I would hand to my mother when returning from London. As if to say “This is what London was like. I was alone. I looked at myself.”
By the time I was ready to display the photographs I had become extremely comfortable with being nude. It was not until I saw men sifting through the pictures that I began to feel nervous. I noticed that each man who looked at them seemed to shy away from the prints as if he was intruding on my body. The male gaze had lost its power. The men were aware that the body they looked at was mine, and not built for their viewing.
Li Lium on the street in Harajuku wearing a Versace bomber, Fendi logo pants & platform Nike sneakers.
My chain hits my chest
when I’m banging on the dashboard
my chain hits my chest
when I’m banging on the radio
suki zuky I’m coming in the Cherokee
gasoline there’s steam on the window screen
take it take it wheels bouncing like a trampoline
when I get to where I’m going
gonna have you trembling
“Suki, suki” means “drive, drive” in Arabic. In the music video Saudi Arabian women are driving and aren’t supposed to, so MIA’s saying “suki, suki”. They’re bad girls.
Further, سوقي (suuqii) is in the imperative singular feminine, in a form I think is Saudi colloquial — more formal would be اسوقي. So, it has an additional subtlety of telling a female to drive.
also the term “sooky sooky” has been a mainstay in r&b music and AAVE, so there’s maybe like this double meaning wordplay going on? cool!
my time home this go round was intense. full of love. but super intense. found out a lot of things about my family. some hard. some amazing and heroic. especially the things i learned about my mother and her journey. her narrative is no different then so many other black women and girls.. i wish i could share more. i typed it, then deleted it. i do think its important we don’t suffer in silence and share our stories with each other. i mean thats what saved her eventually. but its totally up to her to tell her own story. and up to her to decide who she wants to tell it to. i’ll be 30 next year and it was our first real conversation about all of that shit. my heart is mad heavy. but i’m also SOOO proud of her. her courage. her resilience. she’s even more of my hero than ever before. i’m going to tell her this. she needs to know that her still being alive today is a miracle, and a true testament to how incredibly divine she is. i’ll worship her forever. and i plan to continue to worship black women everywhere forever.
feeling torn about posting this. but something is telling me too.
Nigerian photographer August Udoh captures the competitors of Dambe. Since the 1950s, Nigerian boxers have held their own in international boxing competition. Dambe is a Hausa martial sport that used to take place at the village level. Matches were held on festival occasions, and the art was the special province of members of the butchers’ guild.
Dambe uses only one hand to strike, while the “weaker” hand is extended toward the opponent and used to ward off blows. Dambe competitions are held between groups who meet in dueling pairs on a symbolic battlefield, and the metaphor of warfare is apparent in the continuing use of the term “killing” to signify the strike that leads to winning a match.
See more of Udoh’s work HERE