journal 2 biwe - Prince Claus Fund

Transcripción

Contents /
p. 2
Contenu /
Contenido
Organisation of the Prince Claus Fund /
Organisation / Organización
p. 3
p. 6
Editorial
Working conferences held in Bombay and
Mexico City on the themes of ‘Intellectual
Spaces’ and ‘Beauty in Context’ /
p. 8
Conferencias de trabajo realizadas en
Bombay y Ciudad de México acerca de
‘Espacios intelectuales’ y ‘Belleza y
contexto’
p. 9
Beauty in Context
Rustom Bharucha
p. 15 Political Perspectives for Contemporary
Indian Art
Geeta Kapur
p. 23 México: Los imaginarios en una ciudad
global
Néstor García Canclini
p. 27 Un gesto hermoso
Frank Martinus Arion
p. 31 Bamako’s African Photography Encounters:
A Renaissance in the Making
Salah M. Hassan
p. 37 L’Algérie de tous les silences
Omar D.
p. 39 Works of Art / Oeuvres d’Art /
Obras de Arte
p. 58 Les Prix Prince Claus 1998: Culture,
humanisme et creativité
p. 61 ‘La Culture’:The Problems of the
Definite Article
Mai Ghoussoub
p. 65 Activities supported by the Prince Claus
Fund / Activités soutenues par la Fondation
Prince Claus / Actividades patrocinadas por
la Fundación Príncipe Claus
p. 72 Recent publications / Publications
récentes / Publicaciones recientes
p. 77 Contributing authors / Auteurs participant
à ce numéro / Contribuidores
p. 79 The Prince Claus Fund /
La Fondation Prince Claus
p. 80 La Fundación Príncipe Claus
Prince Claus Fund Journal # 2
1
Board of the Prince Claus Fund /
Comité de Direction de la Fondation Prince Claus /
Junta Directiva de la Fundación Príncipe Claus
HRH
Prince Claus of the Netherlands,
Honorary Chairman
o
1999 Exchanges Committee /
Comité des Echanges pour 1999 /
Comité de Intercambios 1999
Professor Lolle Nauta, Chair, member of the Board
of the Prince Claus Fund
Professor Anke Niehof, Chair, Professor of Sociology at
Dr. Pieter Boele van Hensbroek, philosopher,
the Agricultural University, Wageningen
University of Groningen, the Netherlands
Adriaan van Dis, Vice-Chairman, Writer
Radinck Jan van Vollenhoven, Treasurer, Policy Advisor,
Organisation /
Arvind N. Das, journalist and editor, New Delhi, India
Organización
Professor Achille Mbembe, historian and Director
Netherlands Ministry of Foreign Affairs,The Hague
of CODESRIA , Dakar, Senegal
Edith Sizoo, Secretary, International Coordinator of
Anil Ramdas, essayist, the Netherlands
Réseau Cultures et Développement, Brussels, Belgium
Professor Lolle Nauta, Professor Emeritus of Social
1999 Publications Committee /
Philosophy at the University of Groningen
Comité des Publications pour 1999 /
Dr. Louk de la Rive Box, Director of the European
Comité de Publicaciones 1999
Centre for Development Policy Management, Maastricht
Adriaan van Dis, Chair, member of the Board of the
Professor Adriaan van der Staay, Professor of
Prince Claus Fund
Cultural Politics and Cultural Critique at the Erasmus
Professor Hilary Beckles, historian and Dean of the
University, Rotterdam
University of the West Indies, Jamaica
Peter Struycken, Artist
Professor Leonard Blussé, Professor of the History
of European Expansion at Leiden University, the
Office / Bureaux / Oficina
Netherlands
Els van der Plas, Director
Professor Avishai Margalit, philosopher at Hebrew
Cora Taal, Executive Secretary
University, Jerusalem, Israel
Geerte Wachter, Policy Officer
Professor Anke Niehof, member of the Board of the
Marlous Willemsen, Policy Officer
Prince Claus Fund
Vivian Paulissen, Projects Coordinator
Fernand Pahud de Mortanges, Secretary
1999 Activities Committee /
Comité des Activités pour 1999 /
1999 Prince Claus Awards Committee /
Comité de Actividades 1999
Comité des Prix Prince Claus pour 1999 /
Edith Sizoo, Chair, member of the Board of the Prince
Comité de Premios Príncipe Claus 1999
Claus Fund
Professor Adriaan van der Staay, Chair, member of
Ritseart ten Cate, Director of Dasarts,Amsterdam,
the Board of the Prince Claus Fund
the Netherlands
Professor Charles Correa, architect and planner,
Huib Haringhuizen, Artistic Director of the Tropical
New Delhi, India
Institute Theatre,Amsterdam, the Netherlands
Emile Fallaux, script-writer and President of the
Peter Struycken, member of the Board of the
Hubert Bals Fonds,Amsterdam, the Netherlands
Prince Claus Fund
Mai Ghoussoub, artist, writer and Director of Al Saqi
Publishers and Bookshop, London, UK; Beirut, Lebanon
International Advisory Board /
Gaston Kaboré, historian and film director,
Conseil International /
Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso
Consejo Internacional
Gerardo Mosquera, curator and art critic,
Dr. Richard E. Leakey, promoter of culture,
Havana, Cuba
Nairobi, Kenya
Joséphine Ouédraogo, Director of the Centre
africain de la femme, Addis Ababa, Ethiopia
Dr. Selma Al-Radi, American Insitute for Yemeni
Studies, Sana’a,Yemen; New York, USA
2
This second issue of the Prince Claus Fund Journal
reflects the widening field of the Fund’s activities:
Spanish has now been added to the English and
French of the first issue. The Prince Claus Fund has
become increasingly engaged in an exchange of
ideas with the Americas, while continuing the
intensive exchanges with African and Asian artists
and intellectuals.
Journal # 2 contains an article by Néstor García
Canclini, the Argentinian-born, Mexican-based anthropologist and researcher of urban culture. The
context of his contribution is the Fund’s interest in
aspects of urban culture and development – architecture and urban planning, together with cultural,
social and administrative infrastructures. Néstor
García Canclini considers forms of livability and
manageability in relation to Mexico City, a city of 18
million inhabitants which is in danger of losing
itself in a battle against quantities.
Another sphere in which the Prince Claus Fund is
active is the commemoration of slavery in its areas
of focus. The Dutch version of a book devoted to this
theme will be published on 1 July – the anniversary of
the abolition of slavery by the Netherlands in 1863.
Initiated by the Fund, the book contains contributions by intellectuals from the Americas and
Africa. An English version will follow. The authors
analyse the various forms of commemoration in the
different countries and regions where past and
present are marked by slavery. The contribution by
the Curaçao-born writer Frank Martinus Arion is
included as a pre-publication in this Journal – in a
Spanish translation.
A third area of current interest to the Prince Claus
Fund has been entitled ‘Beauty in Context’.
Together with experts in various disciplines, the
Fund is endeavouring to find absolute or relative
concepts of beauty. In order to prepare for a symposium and audio-visual presentation on the subject, the question of ‘Beauty in Context’ was posed
to art critics and artists in Mexico City and Bombay.
In Bombay the discussion was related to the installation ‘Remembering Toba Tek Singh’ by Nalini
Malani, the production of which was financed by the
Fund. The theatre critic and cultural theoretician
Rustom Bharucha gave the keynote speech, in
which he examined the ‘beauty of pain’. His speech
is published in the Journal.
In addition to the presentation in Bombay, ‘Remembering Toba Tek Singh’ was shown in September
e
1998 at the World Wide Video Festival in Amsterdam. On this occasion the Indian art critic Geeta
Kapur spoke on present-day developments in Indian
art. An article based on her speech is included in this
Journal. Geeta Kapur focuses on the three Indian
contributions to the Festival: from Nalini Malani,
Rummana Hussain and Vivan Sundaram.
Editorial
Photography is a subject of particular interest to
The Prince Claus
the Prince Claus Fund. Within this context the Fund
Fund Journal
financed the catalogue for the third biennial of phoreflects the aims
tography in Bamako, Mali, held in December 1998.
of the Prince Claus The introduction to the French-language catalogue,
Fund and reports
written by art historian Salah Hassan, is included in
on the outcome of the Journal in an extended English version. Work by
activities initiated, the Algerian photographer Omar D. is presented with
supported and
the article.
stimulated by the
African fashion designs are shown in the colour
Fund.The Fund
section of the Journal. ‘The Art of African Fashion’
seeks to publicise
received the Principal 1998 Prince Claus Award; the
the intellectual
African designers Oumou Sy (Senegal), Alphadi
and artistic results (Niger) and Tetteh Adzedu (Ghana), as representof its activities and atives of the African fashion profession, were
to disseminate
presented with the award by Prince Claus. A report
these throughout
on the 1998 Prince Claus Awards introduces the
the world.The
principal award recipients and all other laureates.
Fund – and likeMai Ghoussoub is a member of the Prince Claus
wise the Journal –
Awards Committee. In 1998 she published the collecacts as an intertion of short stories entitled ‘Leaving Beirut, Women
ested listener, a
and the Wars Within’, in which she describes her youth
partner in discusand the civil war. Her contribution to this Journal is a
sion and a catalyst plea for cultural diversity. The installation ‘Displaces’
in cultural
(1997), made by Mai Ghoussoub and Souheil Sleiman,
innovation and
is presented with her article.
development.
3
e
Cette deuxième livraison du Journal de la Fondation
Prince Claus reflète l’extension du rayon d’action
de la Fondation: aux deux langues du premier
numéro, l’anglais et le français, s’est ajouté l’espagnol. La Fondation Prince Claus se réjouit du développement des échanges de vues avec l’Amérique,
qui viennent enrichir les échanges intensifs
constants avec des artistes et des intellectuels
africains et asiatiques.
Ainsi, le Journal # 2 présente un article de Néstor
García Canclini, anthropologue et chercheur d’origine argentine vivant au Mexique, spécialisé dans la
culture urbaine. Son article s’inscrit dans l’intérêt
de la Fondation pour certains aspects de la culture
et du développement urbains, en particulier l’architecture, l’urbanisme et les infrastructures culturelles, sociales et administratives. Néstor García
Canclini aborde la question de la qualité de la vie à
Mexico et de la maîtrise d’une ville de 18 millions
d’habitants qui risque de se perdre dans une lutte
contre le gigantisme des nombres.
La commémoration de l’esclavage figure également parmi les champs de réflexion de la Fondation
Prince Claus. Un livre consacré à ce thème, dont la
Fondation a eu l’initiative et comprenant des articles d’intellectuels américains et africains, paraîtra
en version néerlandaise le 1er juillet prochain, jour
de la commémoration de l’abolition de l’esclavage
par les Pays-Bas en 1863. Une version anglaise suivra.
Les auteurs analysent les différentes manières de
commémorer cet événement dans les divers pays et
régions dont le passé et le présent sont marqués par
l’esclavage. Une traduction en espagnol de l’article
de Frank Martinus Arion, écrivain de Curaçao, est
proposée en avant-première dans ce bulletin.
Un troisième thème auquel la Fondation porte actuellement une grande attention a reçu le nom de
‘Beauté et contexte’. Cette activité consiste à rechercher, en collaboration avec des spécialistes de différentes disciplines, des concepts de beauté absolue ou
relative. En préparation d’un séminaire et d’une présentation audiovisuelle portant sur ce sujet, ‘Beauté et
contexte’ a été soumis à des critiques d’art et à des
artistes à Mexico et à Bombay. Dans cette dernière ville,
les débats faisaient suite à l’installation ‘Remembering
Toba Tek Singh’ de Nalini Malani dont la production
avait été financée par la Fondation. Rustom Bharucha,
critique de théâtre et auteur d’études sur les cultures, a
prononcé le discours-programme, publié dans ce
bulletin, dans lequel il analyse ‘la beauté de la douleur’.
4
Editorial
Le Journal de la
Fondation Prince
Claus reflète les
objectifs de la
Fondation Prince
Claus et relate les
résultats des activités lancées,
soutenues et encouragées par la
Fondation. La
Fondation tient à
publier les résultats au plan intellectuel et artistique de ses
activités et à les
diffuser dans le
monde entier.
A l’instar de la
Fondation, ce
bulletin agit en
interlocuteur
attentif, en partenaire dans les
débats et joue un
rôle catalysateur
dans l’innovation
et le développement culturels.
Après Bombay en mars 1999, ‘Remembering Toba
Tek Singh’ a été présenté au World Wide Video
Festival d’Amsterdam en septembre 1998. A cette
occasion, la critique d’art indienne Geeta Kapur a
donné une conférence sur l’évolution actuelle de l’art
en Inde. Le Journal offre une version adaptée de son
texte. Geeta Kapur aborde dans sa contribution les
travaux de trois artistes indiens participant au festival :
Nalini Malani, Rummana Hussain et Vivan Sundaram.
La photographie est un domaine de prédilection de
la Fondation Prince Claus. Ainsi, la Fondation a
financé le catalogue de la troisième biennale photographique de Bamako, au Mali, qui s’est tenue en
décembre 1998. L’introduction, écrite par l’historien d’art Salah Hassan et publiée dans le catalogue
en français, est reprise dans ce bulletin dans sa
version intégrale en anglais. L’article est accompagné d’œuvres du photographe algérien Omar D.
Le Journal contient un cahier en couleur portant sur
les créateurs de mode africains. ‘L’art de la mode
africaine’ a reçu le Premier Prix Prince Claus 1998;
les stylistes africains Oumou Sy (Sénégal), Alphadi
(Niger) et Tetteh Adzedu (Ghana), représentants
de la mode africaine, ont reçu le prix des mains du
Prince Claus. Dans un reportage sur les Prix Prince
Claus 1998, le Journal propose un article sur les
premiers prix et les autres lauréats.
Mai Ghoussoub est membre de la commission des
Prix Prince Claus. Elle a publié en 1998 un recueil de
récits intitulé ‘Leaving Beirut, Women and the Wars
Within’, dans lesquels elle décrit la ville de sa
jeunesse en proie à la guerre civile. Vous trouverez
dans ce bulletin un article de sa main, plaidoyer
pour la diversité culturelle, accompagné de photos
de l’installation ‘Displaces’ (1997), montée par Mai
Ghoussoub en collaboration avec Souheil Sleiman.
Este segundo número del Journal de la Fundación
Príncipe Claus refleja el creciente campo de acción
de la Fundación: el español ha sido agregado al
inglés y francés del primer número. La Fundación
Príncipe Claus se ha involucrado más y más en el
intercambio de ideas con las Américas, mientras
continúa su relación intensa con artistas e
intelectuales de África y Asia.
El Journal # 2 contiene un artículo de Néstor García
Canclini, el antropólogo argentino, residente en
México e investigador de cultura urbana. Su contribución tiene como contexto uno de los intereses de
la Fundación en aspectos de cultura y desarrollo
urbanos – arquitectura y planeación urbana, junto
con infraestructuras culturales, sociales y administrativas. Néstor García Canclini considera varias
formas de habitacionabilidad y administración en
relación con Ciudad de México, una ciudad de 18
millones de habitantes, en peligro de desaparecer,
en la batalla de los guarismos.
Otra de las esferas en que actúa la Fundación
Príncipe Claus es la conmemoración de la esclavitud en los ámbitos de interés de la Fundación. La
versión en holandés de un libro dedicado a este
tema será publicada el 1 de julio – aniversario de la
abolición de la esclavitud por Holanda en 1863. Este
libro iniciado por la Fundación, cuya versión en
inglés saldrá posteriormente, incluye contribuciones de intelectuales de las Américas y África. Estos
autores analizan las diferentes maneras de conmemoración en los países y regiones donde el
pasado y el presente han sido marcados por la
esclavitud. La contribución del escritor de Curaçao,
Frank Martinus Arion, traducida al español, ha sido
incluida en esta revista a manera de pre-publicación.
La tercera área en que actualmente se interesa la
Fundación Príncipe Claus se titula: ‘Belleza y contexto’. Junto con expertos en varias disciplinas, la
Fundación está empeñada en encontrar conceptos
absolutos y relativos de la belleza. Con el fin de
preparar un simposio y una presentación audiovisual a este respecto, el tema ‘Belleza y contexto’
fue presentado a críticos de arte y artistas en las
ciudad de México y Bombay. En Bombay la discusión
se hizo en relación con la instalación ‘Remembering
Toba Tek Singh’ de Nalini Malani, cuya producción
estuvo a cargo de la Fundación. El crítico de teatro y
teórico sobre cultura Rustom Bharucha pronunció
el discurso de apertura en que examinó la ‘belleza del
dolor’. Su intervención se ha publicado en la revista.
e
Editorial
El Journal de la
Fundación Príncipe Claus refleja
los objetivos de la
Fundación Príncipe Claus y reporta
los resultados de
actividades iniciadas, patrocinadas
o estimuladas por
la Fundación. La
Fundación procura publicar los logros intelectuales
y artísticos de sus
actividades y difundirlos por todo
el mundo. La Fundación – y por
consiguiente la
revista – actúan
como un escucha
interesado, un
compañero en la
discusión y un catalizador para la
innovación y el
desarrollo cultural.
Además de la presentación en Bombay, ‘Remembering Toba Tek Singh’ (recordando a Toba Tek
Singh) fue mostrada en septiembre 1998 en el
World Wide Video Festival de Video de Amsterdam. En esta ocasión, la escritora y crítica de arte
hindú Geeta Kapur habló sobre los últimos avances
del arte en este país. Un artículo basado en su
intervención viene incluido en esta revista. Geeta
Kapur se concentra en las tres contribuciones de
la India al festival: de Nalini Malani, Rummana
Hussain y Vivan Sundaram.
La fotografía es un tema de particular interés para la
Fundación Príncipe Claus. Dentro de este contexto
la Fundación financió el catálogo para la tercer
bienal de fotografía de Bamako, Mali, llevada a cabo
en diciembre 1998. Se incluye en esta revista una
versión extensa en inglés de la introducción al
catálogo en francés, escrita por el historiador de
arte Salah Hassan. La obra del fotógrafo argelino
Omar D. es presentada con este artículo.
Varios diseños de modas de África son reproducidos en la sección a color de la revista. ‘El arte de
la moda africana’ recibió el Premio Principal Príncipe
Claus 1998; los diseñadores africanos Oumou Sy
(Senegal), Alphadi (Nigeria) y Tetteh Adzedu
(Ghana), como representantes de la profesión de
modas en África, fueron galardonados con este
premio por el Príncipe Claus. El reporte sobre los
Premios Príncipe Claus 1998 introduce al ganador
del Premio Principal y a los demás laureados.
Mai Ghoussoub es miembro del Comité de
Premios Príncipe Claus. En 1998 publicó la colección de cuentos cortos titulada ‘Leaving Beirut,
Women and the Wars Within’ (saliendo de Beirut,
las mujeres y las guerras por dentro) en el cual
describe su juventud y la guerra civil. Su contribución a esta revista es un llamado a la diversidad
cultural. La instalación ‘Displaces’ (1997), por Mai
Ghoussoub y Souheil Sleiman, es presentada con
su artículo.
5
Working conferences held in Bombay and
Mexico City on the themes of ‘Intellectual Spaces’
and ‘Beauty in Context’
The Prince Claus Fund actively embarked on its
Exchanges Programme with plans for a series of conferences; the themes will include ‘Intellectual Spaces’
(1999, Beirut) and ‘Beauty in Context’ (2000). By way
of preparation a working conference was organised
on 5 March 1999 in Bombay, India. The multimedia
installation ‘Remembering Toba Tek Singh’ by the
artist Nalini Malani, which received financial support
from the Fund, was presented on this occasion.1
Against the background of this politically engagé,
high-tech work of art, the Fund posed a number of
questions concerning the space available to intellectuals for their activities and the role which intellectuals
play, and concerning the absolute nature or relativity
of beauty. These questions were put to a group of
artists and thinkers: the art critic and recipient of a
Prince Claus Award, Jyotindra Jain; the film-maker and
laureate Kumar Shahani; the painter and art historian
Gulammohammed Sheikh; Charles Correa, architect
and member of the Prince Claus Awards Committee;
Arvind Das, journalist and member of the Fund’s
Exchange Committee; theatre critic Rustom Bharucha; art critic Geeta Kapur; dancer and choreographer Chandralekha; journalist Sadanand Menon; film historian Ashish Rajadhyaksha and artist Nalini Malani.
In a stormy, emotional discussion the intellectual was
defined as someone who analyses society and culture,
critically and from a distance, in writing, art and
actions. A distinction was made between three forms
of ‘space’ for intellectual activity: limited by the state,
anti-state and non-state-related. Each of these spaces
can offer freedoms. Even within restrictive bureaucracy, detested by all, which sometimes actually provides intellectual spaces through its inefficiency and
ignorance.
The discussion on the theme of ‘Beauty in Context’
was approached by the participants from a broad
perspective: from the beauty of Christ’s immortality
to the hideousness of the fat male film star in India;
from the feminist riots during the organisation of the
Miss World contest in India to the ‘beauty of pain’.2 A
wide-ranging, heated discussion led to the conclusion
that beauty must be saved from decline, so that it can
again be a significant parameter in the intercultural
debate.
6
Els van der Plas,
Director of the
Prince Claus Fund
1.
See also p. 15 and p. 70
of this Journal.
2.
See the keynote
speech by Rustom
Bharucha on p. 9 of
this Journal.
This hope was shared by Mexican colleagues. On 6
April 1999 the question of ‘Beauty in Context’ was
also posed to the art critics’ platform Curare in
Mexico City. The participants included Francisco
Reyes Palma, Esther Acevedo, Renato González
Mello, Issa Benítez Dueñas, Pilar García and José
Luis Barrios Lara. The Cuban art critic Gerardo
Mosquera also took part; he is a member of the
Prince Claus Awards Committee, which held a
meeting in Mexico City to discuss the 1999 awards.
Participants spoke of the importance of the longstanding aesthetic constructions of beauty to be
found in ancient cultures such as those of Mexico,
India and China. Against this background the
discussion of beauty should take place outside the
boundaries of the politically correct; current aesthetics should be sought in the vernacular culture, in
kitsch, Barbie and advertisements.
The results of further debates on these themes will
be published in the next issues of the Prince Claus
Fund Journal.
Bombay, India
from the left: Charles
Correa, Geeta Kapur,
Monika Correa
Mexico City
from the left:
Gerardo Mosquera,
Pilar García, Renato
González Mello,
Francisco Reyes Palma
and Esther Acevedo
7
Conferencias de trabajo realizadas en Bombay
y Ciudad de México acerca de ‘Espacios
intelectuales’ y ‘Belleza y contexto’.
La Fundación Príncipe Claus se ha comprometido
activamente en su Programa de Intercambios
planeando una serie de conferencias; entre los
temas figurarán ‘Espacios intelectuales’ (1999, Beirut) y ‘Belleza y contexto’ (2000). A manera de
preparación se llevó a cabo una conferencia de
trabajo el 5 de marzo de 1999 en Bombay, India. La
instalación de multimedia ‘Remembering Toba Tek
Singh’ de la artista Nalini Malani, quien recibió
apoyo financiero de la Fundación, fue presentada
en esta oportunidad.1
Teniendo como base este trabajo artístico de alta
tecnología, comprometido políticamente, la Fundación propuso una serie de preguntas – relacionadas con el espacio de que disponen los intelectuales
para sus actividades y el papel que desempeñan, y
en relación con la naturaleza absoluta o la
relatividad de la belleza. Estas preguntas fueron
entregadas al siguiente grupo de artistas y pensadores: crítico de arte y ganador de un Premio Príncipe Claus Jyotindra Jain; cineasta y laureado Kumar
Shahani; pintor y historiador del arte Gulammohammed Sheikh; Charles Correa, arquitecto y
miembro del Comité de Premios Príncipe Claus;
Arvind Das, periodista y miembro del Comité de
Intercambios de la Fundación; crítico de teatro
Rustom Bharucha; crítica de arte Geeta Kapur;
bailarina y coreógrafa Chandralekha; periodista
Sadanand Menon; historiador de cine Ashish
Rajadhyaksha y la artista Nalini Malani.
En una tormentosa y apasionada discusión el intelectual fue definido como alguien que analiza la
sociedad y la cultura, críticamente y a distancia, por
escrito, a través del arte y otras acciones. Se hizo
una distinción entre tres formas de ‘espacio’ para la
actividad intelectual: el limitado por el estado, el
que va en contra del estado y el que no se relaciona
con el estado. Cada uno de estos espacios ofrece
libertades. Aun dentro de una burocracia restrictiva, detestada por todos, que inclusive, a veces,
provee espacios intelectuales a través de su ineficiencia e ignorancia.
La discusión sobre ‘Belleza y contexto’ fue tratada
por los participantes desde una amplia pespectiva:
desde la belleza de la inmortalidad de Cristo, hasta
8
Els van der Plas,
Directora de la
Fundación
lo horripilante del hombre gordo como estrella de
cine en India; desde los motines feministas durante
la organización del concurso Miss Mundo en India,
hasta la ‘belleza del dolor’.2 Una acalorada discusión, de gran alcance condujo a la conclusión de
que hay que salvar a la belleza de la decadencia, para
que sea de nuevo un parámetro significativo en el
debate intercultural.
The Prince Claus Fund is preparing an event for the year 2000 on
Esta aspiración fue compartida por los colegas
Mexicanos. El 6 de abril de 1999 el tema de ‘Belleza y
contexto’ fue propuesto en la plataforma de críticos
de arte Curare en Ciudad de México. Los participantes fueron: Francisco Reyes Palma, Esther
Acevedo, Renato González Mello, Issa Benítez
Dueñas, Pilar García y José Luis Barrios Lara.
También participó el crítico de arte de Cuba
Gerardo Mosquera, quien forma parte del Comité
de Premios Príncipe Claus que se reunió en Ciudad
de México para discutir sobre los premios 1999. Los
participantes hablaron sobre la importancia de las
construcciones estéticas de belleza a largo plazo
que se pueden encontrar en culturas antiguas
como las de México, India y China. Con base en esta
información, la discusión sobre la belleza debe
realizarse fuera de las fronteras de lo políticamente
correcto; la estética de la actualidad hay que
buscarla en la cultura vernácula, en el kitsch, las
Barbie y la publicidad.
Bharucha has received a grant from the Prince Claus Fund in order
the theme of ‘Beauty in Context’, a title which is that of a book by
Wilfried van Damme. In March 1999 there was a preliminary
discussion of this theme in Bombay, in which Indian intellectuals and
artists participated .The theatre critic Rustom Bharucha from
Calcutta started off the discussion with this lecture. Rustom
Príncipe Claus
1.
Ver también pág. 15 y
pág. 70 de esta revista.
2.
Ver discurso de
inauguración de
Rustom Bharucha,
pág. 9 de esta revista.
Los resultados de los de más debates sobre estos
asuntos serán publicados en las proximas ediciones
del Journal de la Fundación Príncipe Claus.
to write his book ‘Shifting Sites’.
Rustom Bharucha
Beauty in Context
This is not going to be a lecture but a series of scattered thoughts on beauty in context that
have been sparked by the beauty of pain in Nalini Malani’s recent installation ‘Remembering
Toba Tek Singh’. Before I begin to address the beauty of pain, the first thing that comes to
mind is that I am not prepared to think about beauty in its own right; I am compelled to
relate it to something else – in this particular case, pain. Involuntarily, I am problematising
beauty by refusing to acknowledge its ontology. This initial impulse falls into place when
one considers the larger body of contemporary cultural theory, where beauty is absented
from critical discourse. If one had to invoke beauty today in literary theory, for example, this
would seem like a thoroughly regressive gesture, a return to New Criticism, which has been
thoroughly deconstructed over the years. This does not mean that the beautiful does not
occasionally appear as an effect, an affect, a compliment in postmodern theory, but it is almost entirely denuded of any specific content. If beauty has to be taken seriously, therefore,
it will almost inevitably be problematised.
Certainly, this is the case in Indian public and cultural discourse, where beauty is
invariably equated in a polemical context with beauty contests, or pageants as they are now
called. This political correctness (beauty with a purpose) has grown even as such events have
lost their appeal in Western societies, where they are considered to be increasingly
anachronistic. Today these pageants have become more important in the Third World, and
particularly in Asian countries, with the growth of the cosmetics and fashion industry. Not
unpredictably, there was a tremendous furore during the 1996 Miss World Beauty Pageant in
Bangalore, when the entire city came to a near standstill in curfew-like conditions. There
were more policemen in the auditorium than there were beauties onstage. This event
brought together an unprecedented alliance between activists from the feminist and the
farmers’ movements, who at that time were busy attacking the introduction of Kentucky
Fried Chicken into the Indian market. Significantly, the feminists did not oppose the
commodification of beauty by countering indigenous concepts of Indian beauty; they were
aware that such concepts have been thoroughly debased in our film culture and, I would add,
in our pseudo-classical dance culture as well. The feminists based their opposition instead
on the linking of the beauty industry to the world market and global capitalism, through
whose mechanisms women’s bodies are increasingly anatomised and reduced to spare parts,
bought and sold, and even inflicted with pain, if not torture, to achieve certain illusions of
beauty for the gratification of the market.
This polemic is familiar and justified, but it would be reductive to equate the multidimensional concept of beauty with the cosmetic beauty that is specifically represented in
beauty pageants – we would be cutting off a larger spectrum of ideas relating to the enigmas
9
Indian artist Bhupen Khakar
visiting ‘Remembering Toba
Tek Singh’ by Nalini Malani,
Bombay, India, March 1999
of beauty from other times and cultures that need to be imagined, conceptualised, and above
all, retrieved. It is in the context of critical retrieval that the reflection on beauty in context
becomes a necessary provocation.
In our times, and specifically in India, cultural discourse has become over-politicised.
There is almost nothing that concerns us in culture today that can avoid being politicised,
whether we are dealing with fundamentalist appropriations or attacks on art, or the lack of
subversion in contemporary cultural practice, or whatever. At one level, this is a direct
response to the violence of our times, to which we have no other option but to intervene
politically. But in the process of doing so, are we not losing out on something? In my own
writings on the cultural manifestations of the intercultural, the global, and the secular, I have
become painfully aware of the closure of the political. While I realise that the political can be
named and shaped in any number of ways – this is not a freedom that should be underestimated when one considers the predicament of artists in Singapore, for instance, who are
constantly having to battle the prescribed definitions and limits of the political as designated
by the state – I am now questioning whether there is any place at all for the non-political in
our writings. Within this very nebulous category of the non-political, I would include the
concept of beauty that needs to be retrieved not just for our aesthetics but for our sanity.
How do I retrieve beauty in my own critical writing? I am working at the moment on a
long and contentious essay on the politics of interculturalism in Singapore that focuses on a
spectacular production of Lear. Among the many issues that concern me in this essay – the
appropriation of traditional forms like Noh, Chinese opera, silat (Indonesian martial art
form); the politics of female impersonation; the equation of ‘Asian values’ with the asean
priorities of this model of interculturalism – I find myself highlighting a very different
moment in the production, when the Noh actor playing Lear is sitting alone listening to the
waves of the sea, doing nothing. In this ‘nothing’, there is the quintessence of beauty – as
Zeami, the great philosopher of Noh, once put it: ‘What the actor does not do is of interest.’
In the aesthetics of Noh, we encounter very subtle and differentiated registers of beauty.
10
There is Rojaku, the quiet beauty of old age. There is Yugen, which connotes a dark, elegant
beauty that suggests the unknown, as, for instance, when Lear slowly draws out what
appears to be a weapon from his robe and then, with a flick of his wrist, opens a fan. With
slow undulating motions of the hand, he makes us see the water trickling from his fingers.
What can you do with such a moment but savour it? At this point in the production, you
cannot focus on the politics of casting, for instance, and ask: Why is a Japanese actor playing
Lear, while the Indonesians are cast as ‘minor’ characters? Legitimate as this question is in
the larger context of the hierarchies of culture that are represented in the production, it
would be more pertinent to ask within the aesthetics of this particular scene whether our
ignorance of the Japanese codes of beauty prevents us from truly appreciating the ‘flower’
(hana) of the performance. To what extent do we need to be aware of the concept of hana in
order to participate in its ‘flowering’? Can these culture-specific concepts be translated
across cultural borders? What is the imaginary ground shared between the Indian concept of
rasa (literally, the ‘juice’ of a performance) and the Japanese concept of hana?
The difficulty with answering such questions is that they elicit a somewhat esoteric
language that is invariably class-bound and, in the case of India, caste-bound. While I would
not argue that rasa is a brahminic concept – this would be an exceptionally contentious
position – it has certainly been brahminised and monopolised by a particular coterie of artists,
whose reactionary politics and conservative sensibilities are questionable at many levels.
There is another critical problem, however, that demands our attention: Is analytic language
adequate at all to account for one’s experience of rasa or hana? Zeami advises us not to
approach Noh with the intellect, but with the heart. Indeed, without the ‘consent of the heart’
embodied in the figure of the sahradaya, or ideal spectator, in Sanskrit drama, there would be
no beauty to appreciate.
Let me now reflect on the relationship between articulation and beauty in the context of
pain. For this I will have to take you to a different forum – a multicultural theatre conference
entitled ‘Intersection’, which included a Vietnamese playwright called Le Thi Diem Thuy.
She has a very painful story to narrate in the form of a play – her own story involving her
migration to the United States as a boat person and refugee. It is unanimously accepted by
the participants in the conference that her writing is beautiful, but why could she not have
put more of herself in the acting of her story? Why did she seem to be so detached from her
pain? In the plenary that ended this conference, this issue was raised with honesty and
passion, but it only succeeded in precipitating a tumultuous breakdown in the young
playwright. Through her sobs, she confronted us with anger. ‘I keep hearing’, she said, ‘you
write so beautifully. Do you know why I write so beautifully? It’s because I don’t want to tell
the truth.’ Thuy could have been saying: I don’t want to share my story entirely with you. I
don’t want to share my pain.
This had a searing effect on me, not least because it made me confront the price that one
has to pay for being articulate in post-colonial situations. I was made aware that Thuy’s
‘beautiful’ English is a recently acquired language and, as she acknowledged, she had to
master it in order to survive and to cover up for her father, who did not speak the language
well. Indeed, it is a painful story. What struck me, however, is that it totally challenges the
axiomatic condition of beauty and truth that are coupled in Keats’ famous ‘Ode to a Grecian
Urn’, which ends on the homiletic note: ‘Beauty is truth, truth beauty, – that is all/Ye know
on earth, and all ye need to know.’ Obviously, in the case of Thuy, this is not true. Beauty, for
her, is a screen, a means of protecting the pain of truth from spilling out; perhaps, one could
even add, beauty is another form of self-censorship, or creative vigilance.
Moving out of the diasporic framework into the more modernist assessment of works of
art, I will have to take you now to Amsterdam, and more specifically, to a memorable essay
by John Berger entitled ‘The Production of the World’. In this essay, Berger is a disillusioned
11
seminarian; he has come to Amsterdam for a meeting at the Transnational Institute, but he
cannot focus on anything. He cannot put image to word to thought. He is de-centred, and
that is not a desirable condition for any modernist. He leaves the seminar hall and moves
almost instinctively in the direction of the Van Gogh Museum, where he glances at familiar
paintings like ‘The Potato Eaters’, ‘A Wheatfield with a Lark’ and ‘The Pear Tree in Blossom’:
‘Within two minutes – and for the first time in three weeks – I was calm, reassured… Never
had these paintings manifested anything like his therapeutic power.’ With an eerie sense of
déjà vu, Berger finds his experience replicated in a story by Hofmannsthal entitled ‘Letters of
a Traveller Come Home’, in which a disillusioned businessman visiting Amsterdam finds
himself entering an art gallery – guess which one – where he is so rehabilitated that he pulls
off the best business coup of his career. This is what he has to say: ‘How am I to tell you half
of what these paintings said to me? They were a total justification of my strange and yet
profound feelings. How suddenly I was in front of something, a mere glimpse of which had
previously, in my state of torpor, been too much for me. I had been haunted by that glimpse.
Now a total stranger [Van Gogh] was offering me – with incredible authority – a reply – an
entire world in the form of a reply.’
In these examples, beauty is not specifically invoked, but there is the reassurance of art,
which ultimately instills a centredness within the being of the viewer by the production of
the world in the art work itself. To complicate this centredness, I will now shift the location
from the world of art to the relatively recent intervention of installations: Does beauty have
any place within the generally de-centred framework of installations, which emerged at one
level to challenge the kind of reassurance and framing provided by the canvas of painting?
12
Bill Viola (1951, USA)
The Reflecting Pool, 1977-79
videotape, colour,
mono sound, 7:00
photo: Kira Perov
courtesy of the artist /
photographer
Can beauty be retrieved outside of – and against – a formalist idiom within the making of
installations? Does the irony of its inscription sufficiently puncture the teleology of the
installation, or does it ultimately have value at a purely quotational level?
To address these questions, I offer two very distinct positions by drawing on the work of
Bill Viola and Nalini Malani. I will try to argue that in the case of Viola’s video art/
installations, we can encounter an almost spiritual dimension of beauty that draws
uncannily on certain principles of universality that are perhaps more attuned to the
inspirational sources of Christian and Islamic mystical traditions and Zen Buddhism than to
the dominant Western tropes of the avant-garde canon: interstitiality, hybridity, rupture.
Malani, in contrast, works consciously against any noumenal concept of experience,
preferring to disturb any semblance of sanctity and autonomy with a profoundly catalytic
vision that jettisons the concept of beauty into the as yet unrealised possibilities of the real.
To begin with Viola, I will describe two experiences. In the installation entitled ‘He Weeps
For You’, you enter a room to encounter nothing. This is not a Noh experience, and yet
perhaps it is not that far removed from Zeami’s Zen-inspired aesthetics. On a wall, you see a
large dilating shadow that looks like a bulbous blob of fluid matter; it is a projection of a bead
of water that can be seen shuddering and trembling on the tip of a brass tap. This drop of
water is projected through a very high-powered video camera. As you walk into its field of
vision, you find that your body (which is invisible within the bead of water) is refracted in
the shadow on the wall. As you are submerged in this watery state of being, the drop of water
falls on to an amplified drum, which makes a resounding sound that seems to echo from
another world. And the cycle continues with another drop of water…
As you enter the next room – Viola requests the absence of interruption and explanation in
the experience of his work – you encounter ‘The Reflecting Pool’. Here a video film is being
shown on either side of a suspended screen. Once again we encounter water in the form of a
pool which is surrounded by foliage and green. The artist enters; he stands at the edge of the
pool, and then, suddenly, he leaps in the air, where his body is suspended mid-frame. The
water in the pool continues to move, while the body remains suspended. In the tension that
ensues, there is a breathtaking moment when the body gradually begins to decompose and
merge into the green. It is a moment that can be compared to the closing sequence of
Tarkovsky’s ‘Andrey Ryublev’, when colours begin to seep from the black and white grain of
the film, and it almost seems as if you are witnessing the birth of colour itself. At this point,
one cannot ask: What is the politics of red? Or green? One is even compelled to suspend
one’s questions that are articulated retrospectively: Is this religious art? To what extent does
it feed fundamentalist agendas?
Likewise with Viola, the only language that seems appropriate to discuss the beauty of his
work comes from physics – or more specifically, the physics of metaphysics – in which
concepts of time are experienced in all their infinitesimal corporeality relating to the instant,
the stretching of time, the dissolving of time, the seriality of time. Indeed, this is a language
that is reminiscent of the choreography of Chandralekha, whose ‘Mahakaal’ (literally, ‘the
great time’) could be regarded as yet another manifestation of Viola’s reoccupations with
time and being, even though the forms, disciplines and exposures to technology of these
artists are radically different.
With ‘Remembering Toba Tek Singh’, we enter a very different context not only with the
naming of Manto’s most memorable character, but with the intervention of memory. Time is
fractured and disrupted through memory, which could be the deepest repository of pain. Seers
have often warned us not to remember if we can help it; if we see a tree, we should experience
the tree in all its totality; we should not try to remember the trees of our childhood, or more
bleakly, the decimation of trees in our devastated ecologies. This is, of course, precisely what
some artists refuse to do – they open themselves to discomfort through conscious acts of
13
remembering. Significantly, the installation is not called ‘Remembering the Partition’ – it is
called ‘Remembering Toba Tek Singh’. The violence of Partition is both remembered and
mediated through its fragments. Does this help to ease the pain or to accentuate it?
The Partition is becoming the new master narrative of our times in the subcontinent. After
being silenced for so many years, it is being centralised, not only as an historical fact or as a
human tragedy on an epic scale, but as intrinsic to every Indian’s sense of national identity.
Without a memory of Partition, it would seem that we are not authentically Indian. At the
risk of hurting many of my friends who have been critically involved in the retrieval of
Partition in different languages and forms, I would say that as much as the Partition has
affected, if not traumatised, the lives of millions of its survivors, it has also not touched the
lives of millions of other people who survive in different ways. There are other partitions,
which are probably not remembered because they have yet to be narrativised. They are too
small and marginal to be shared at a broader public level. Paradoxically, these partitions could
be more painful than the Partition, which is finally being commemorated through figures
like Toba Tek Singh and other survivors, fictional or otherwise. If the act of remembering is a
source of pain, therefore, it is also oddly privileged in so far as it has the potential to unleash a
different process of self-articulation and resistance.
The narrativisation of any form of pain in the language of art must be regarded as a
privilege. To Malani’s credit, it must be said that she fully confronts the paradox of this
privilege as an artist by working against the statist tropes of the Partition as memorialised by
nationalist historians and writers. She also complicates the insidious nostalgia and
voyeurism of remembering Partition, by consciously juxtaposing it with other moments of
violence, notably Hiroshima and its normalisation through the logic of deterrence, used to
legitimise the Indian nuclear tests in Pokhran. Clearly, this is not a narrative of Partition that
the agencies of the Indian state would necessarily want to claim. Above all, this is a narrative
that almost emphatically inscribes the bodies of women not in sacrificial states of pain but in
the forthright documentation of their pregnancy (whose excruciating pain is shared
exclusively by women, reducing men to mute witnesses) and in the seeming parody of pain
that is performed in the slow-motion distortions and grimaces of the two women
represented in film on either side of the wall. In both instances, the women are not reduced
by their pain; on the contrary, they are capable of holding it, performing it, and sharing it.
Therein lies the strange and ferocious beauty of this work, which refuses to succumb to
the banality of violence or to the simple solutions of its seeming extinction. It embraces pain
through its selection of fragments; it co-ordinates these fragments in an interactive,
disjunctive framework where we are free to create our own circuits of connection and
disconnection; and it shares the pain not in some kind of communion, but through an
urgency that follows us out of the art gallery into the disorientation of the world.
Countering Berger’s faith in the work of art that provides us with the reassurance of reality
through its production of the world, this art work compels us to produce the world out of the
remnants of its destruction. Here there is no stillness of the Noh actor or the provisionality of
a bead of water hovering in Viola’s installation; there is no screen as in Thuy’s desire not to
reveal the pain of her story. There is, instead, another kind of radical will that approaches a
state of engagement, for which other mediations are necessary – not from the world of art,
but from the interventions of the public sphere – before its emergent beauty can be fully
articulated.
14
At the World Wide Video Festival held in Amsterdam in September
1998 Indian art critic Geeta Kapur spoke on the latest developments
in Indian art. Her fare to Amsterdam was paid by the Prince Claus
Fund.The following article is based on her lecture.
Geeta Kapur
Political Perspectives for Contemporary Indian Art
Introduction
There are two major opposing forces in India’s social terrain: the claim of the Hindu Right to
a hegemonic status, mounting in moments of crisis to a near fascist use of majoritarian
power; and the equally massive force at work within the nation towards the realisation of a
more radical democracy and the recognition of economically backward and socially
oppressed sections of the polity – the dalits (excluded sections in the Hindu caste hierarchy),
religious minorities, women. These volatile forces threaten to pulverise the centrist state and
throw up styles of identity which shake the certitudes of its progressive nationalism.
What is new in Indian art is that its certified locus is under siege from all sides and its older
canons do not hold.
Canons
The dominant canons during the century have had to do with Indian nationalism; a common
agenda of cultural reconstitution during the period of decolonisation. The Indian national
state, when it came into existence in 1947, served to realise the aspiration for a secular
democracy and for a more elusive sense of sovereignty.
In the first canon the artist’s symbolic sovereignty, now delivered to the actual historical
context of an independent nation, is sought to be subsumed and re-invested into a responsible task of representation. This is representation of the people which may include the
representation of mythology, of saints, of peasants and the working people. Here is an art
that moves back and forth on the cusps between indigenism (classical and folk forms with
multiple traditions that are by now eclectically assimilated), an adapted realism, and a
modernism that is continuous with it and foregrounds dominant motifs of ethnicity, class
and gender. This leads through and beyond the nationalist epoch to a socially rich figural art,
which may include real identities through styles of realism and ironic identities through an
expressionist masquerade.
An exact counterpoint to this is the second canon, where the logic is reversed and the artist
climbs to the apex of ‘his’ sovereignty, cutting clean of the civilisational/national/communitarian pyramid. Flagging the achievement of collective cultural creativity, he however
valorises his deducible (and, in authorial terms, singular) identity. The inherited romanticexistential version of the artist is translated into a form of modernity and cast in liberal,
anarchist models of self; what is peculiarly post-colonial/Indian in this self-designation is
that, drawing equally from indigenous models, it shades into the detached stance and
metaphors of a mystical-lyric style. These two norms give us the ideological context of the
arts in India in the pre- and post-independence decades. The artist community, replicating in
a sense the national community, develops a peculiar notion of allegiance. Positions are
plotted in a familial/filial style and some form of collective destiny is thrown up which
exhorts artists not to exceed or supersede the national communitarian cause. Even the avantgarde initiatives have to respect a kind of group psychology which goes in the name of
solidarity to a cause which is India. By continuous acts of containment the historical logic of
sovereignty is muffled; there is a denial of the painful force of breakthroughs.
15
We must remember that without a sustained, European style, history of political liberalism,
the notion of the individual, receives in India a tokenist value. It is quickly given over and
conflated with the national by the help of the term sovereignty. If, in the Indian cultural
situation, all negotiations with the world require something like a community sanction, it is
not surprising that this should take on a more formidable form when they acquire state
sanction/support. So that in fact what is communitarian can become bondage to national
norms and state hierarchy.
With the slow breakdown of the quasi-socialist and social democratic ideology of the
Indian national state, its broadly anti-imperialist Third Worldism, its judiciously protectionist economy, there is a form of reversal of the national/modern project, whereby the
more ambiguous aspects of the national reveal themselves.
There is a trajectory of national/modern high art which has been in the making for nearly a
hundred years in India. By the cumulative effect of national responsibility followed by state
hierarchies, a peculiarly restraining moral aesthetic of a new middle class with a high purpose comes into play. What is remarkable is that this is easily transferred to a consumer scale
when the art market, in tune with the overall move into marketism, develops from the
national to the global level. At this juncture, a contained universe of symbolic imagery is the
more amenable to commodification. I am suggesting that social conformism leads to market
pragmatism in this phase of a nationalist culture.
Rummana Hussain
(1952, India)
Is It What You Think?, 1998
performance
photo: S. Hussain
courtesy of the World Wide
Video Festival
Commodification
In the wake of India’s economic liberalisation policies, beginning in the 1980s and fully
publicised by the early 1990s, there has come into view an enormous, 200 million strong,
Indian middle class. As part of its self-legitimising process, as part of its multinational corporate identity, and finally as a result of its investment interests, the upwardly mobile Indian
middle class now supports a flourishing art market in India.
In a world economy controlled by transnational capital, there is increased exchange
between the resident Indian and non-resident Indian (nri) sectors of the bourgeoisie. The
globalising Indian bourgeoisie and the nris constitute 90% of the art buyers. They are for the
first time testing their identity vis-à-vis the world and need the national/Indian slogan to
shore up their self-image, consumer status, cultural confidence. The bourgeoisie needs,
moreover, the liberalised state to provide the infrastructure from which they can cream off
institutional advantages.
In the complicit relationship of the state and the market, the national is now set up either
as a culturalist charade – of identity, ethnicity and religious tolerance or intolerance – or as an
ideological formation, where an integrationist ‘idealism’ covers over an economy whose
infrastructure is being dismantled at the behest of the Fund and the Bank, and the opened
sectors co-opted by global capital.
Not surprisingly, the upwardly mobile middle class is a conservative, even at times reactionary and fundamentalist force. (The votaries of Hindutva have a strong constituency and
financial backing from the affluent nris in the usa). And, not surprisingly, it plugs the
Indian identity on the political plane to serve its cultural and commercial nexus of power.
Therefore, the rhetoric at the beginning of the commodification of Indian art is still
emphatically national/indigenous. Imagist, voluptuous, accessible pictures come to the fore
to make the product more Indian. Mythology and icons and authenticated Indian characters
continue to be valorised. In the post-modern context this terminology provides a marker of
cultural difference; it serves the taste for ethnology and for variegated forms of consumption.
The new breed of galleries and collectors made a coup in the 1990s. If there were around 10
commercial galleries in all of India in 1990, there are around 200 today. This is accompanied
16
17
Rummana Hussain
(1952, India)
Is It What You Think?, 1998
performance
photo: S. Hussain
Video Festival
Nalini Malani (1946, India)
Remembering Toba Tek Singh,
1998
installation
photo: Gert Jan van Rooij
Video Festival
by the judicious stepping in of international auction houses – Christie’s since 1987, Sotheby’s
since 1989 – and these have staged auctions almost every year since then. Prices of the top
artists have risen 10 to 20 times during the 1990s. The Indian art market has been booming
over the last decade.
Interestingly, the private galleries are undertaking to do exhibitions in the form of national
surveys. And as the doors of the National Gallery of Modern Art, New Delhi, are now open
to private collaboration, there is a similarity of purpose between the state and the market on
aesthetics and ideology or what is heavily pressed in matters of culture – democracy – which
means something for everything in the commercial suppliers’ jargon.
Under pressure from unconventional art forms and younger artists, a few galleries are
putting a stake in new art. Though this art is still manifestly unsaleable, shows featuring
found objects, photographs, installation, performances, are being mounted. These works are
also part of the international curatorial projects of biennials and museums abroad, so that
there is now considerable critical attention given to art works that break ground.
With the galleries added to the state apparatus for the patronage of art, art production
takes on the aspect of an organised sector. And once it becomes an institution, art is more
prone to be critiqued and dismantled. Alternatives can be defined in polar terms as in the
Radical Painters and Sculptors’ Association from Kerala during the mid-1980s; and since
1989 in the all-India political interventions of sahmat on the anti-fundamentalist and secular
front. sahmat works on the principle of a widely democratic participation but with the
declared purpose of politicising art practice – if not the artists themselves.
Precisely because there is now a defined field of art production sporting four full
generations of artists ranging from the 1980s; precisely because there is an institutionalising
of art activity and a commercial viability layered on top of national sentiments, there
emerges a key 20th-century question: What is an art object?
It used to be asked why Indian artists were so sanguine, why they worked according to the
rule, that is to say according to a mediumistic, quasi-formal aesthetic of modernism, why
they produced such good sumptuous art. There is an answer now. The art object comes
under scrutiny precisely when its wholeness and goodness and desirability are being
successfully offered up for sale. This produces the occasion for a cultural retake on the
meaning of the art work and with that a linguistic twist that repositions it over the divide –
introducing deliberate forms of irony, conceptual conundrums. The practice of art is seen as
one among other reflexive acts staged in a precise political/cultural context of today.
Global Placements
While the radical edge of the Third World idea may have declined, the importance of region
– to enhance the sense of identity as well as the bargaining capacity in the new world order –
may be growing. In the exchange of art itself there is, with more and more region-specific
exhibition venues and cultural networks (in São Paulo and Havana and now in Brisbane,
Johannesburg, Kwangju and so on), a relativisation of the Western venue-menu: in Venice
and Documenta; in the cosmopolitan galleries in New York, Cologne and other cities. This
may be our nemesis: the post-modern trick of displacing traditions from their context can
now be replayed on our terms. Most recently Asians, among other Third World artists, are
beginning to deploy post-modern techniques of hijacking to their own advantage. Thus the
avant-garde principle may be taken out of the Western context and renewed elsewhere.
In other words, while there is a politics of place that has been engaged with throughout the
20th century by anti-colonial struggles, there could now be a follow-up with a politics of
placement, whereby the globalisation of language is raised to a higher level of significance by
a global focus on humanist and radical issues. If the avant-garde is based on a sense of the
future as it must be, this lies elsewhere – in the enlarged theatre of political contradictions.
18
19
As for that elsewhere: it has little to do with the costumes of multiculturalism and more to
do with a major rethinking of cultural action and aesthetic recodings. It requires considerations due to surviving artisanal practices in the commodified context of globalised economies; it requires an understanding of the classicising principle which, as a splendid phenomenon in Asian civilisations, poses a paradox for acts of desublimation that any avant-garde
practice requires.
I return therefore to a politics of place and of placement – especially at this juncture, when
curatorial intervention of a global order requires the harnessing of countercurrents. To carry
and sublimate civilisational values criss-crossing with those that painfully desublimate
them – this is an aesthetic peculiar to traditional cultures and to their contemporary
societies. And this is what makes their art new in a quite distinct sense.
With the upheaval of this nation and its severely divided polity, there is art at the edge – of
community, nation and market. It differs from Western neo-avantgardes in that it has as its
referents a civil society in huge ferment, it has a political society whose constituencies are
redefining the meaning of democracy, and it has a demographic scale that defies simple
theories of hegemony. So that the national cannot be so easily replaced by the near-new
equation of the local/global, nor even perhaps by the exigencies of the state/market combine
as in so many asean and other eastern Asian countries. Is there a substantive aspect to
cultural differences within a changing India? How do production values supersede the
demands of conservative elites, avid consumers – as also conventions of Third World radicalisms established elsewhere – so as to relate meaningfully with the radicalisms immanent
in the social terrain at home?
Vivan Sundaram (1943, India)
House/Boat, 1998
installation
photos: Gert Jan van Rooij
Video Festival
Artists Who Intervene
We have seen that there is a substitution of full-bodied cultural metaphors with
disembodied signs. We have arrived at the changing status of the object (of art) in relation to
material practices and forms of installation. There is a starting anew – sometimes with debris
– to reverse the given visual culture and to question not only representational regimes but
the very basis of art production. I take three consciously political artists as examples.
Through the 1990s Vivan Sundaram has developed a succession of installation sites as
(dis-)placements of the historical motif. The 1993 ‘Memorial’ to the dead man on the street is
among such documentary/allegorical accounts of the contemporary, acted out in the
Bombay carnage against the Muslim population. In other projects he steps away and draws
on the personal and public lineages of the contemporary – autobiographical, as in ‘The SherGil Archive’, 1995, and ambitiously historical in his 1998 project titled ‘Structures of
Memory: Modern Bengal’, where he recapitulates the modernising process in India through
a site-specific installation in the white marble monstrosity that is Calcutta’s Victoria
Memorial. Sundaram disembowels the imperium by installing contradictory trajectories
from floor to dome – as for example an 80-foot narrow-gauge railway track that cuts through
the middle of the Darbar Hall and turns this ceremonial meeting place into a railway
platform. In this space, each relayed element – spanning a vast range of modern manufacture
– is notated and signified through raw materials, empirical data, displayed texts, voice-over
and video images. The choreographed and synchronous nature of the encounter prods the
viewer to translate the laboriously worked materiality of the exhibits in terms of ‘art’ objects
that resonate in the public space and make possible the recovery of social meanings.
Seemingly without authorial presence, this theatre of repeated encounters construes the
active spectator who tracks the space to recoup the sense of an archive, or a museum within a
museum. Thus prefigured in the very design of the complex exhibit, there is a normative
designation of the citizen-subject who reconstitutes himself/herself through participation
in the institutions of knowledge and social production.
20
21
For a couple of decades now, a good part of the cultural discourse turns on how the problem
of subjectivity is positioned by women in the public domain, and how it then takes a
reflexive turn so that feminism itself can come to stand in for the larger question of the
politics of representation. In the last decade, Nalini Malani has elaborated her engagement
with the identity of the female as victim/as subaltern/as principle mourner in the theatre of
tragedies. She invokes the psychic horrors worked out in mythological structures (as in her
1993 installation for the enactment of Heiner Mueller’s ‘Medea’); in the reified realm of the
labour market (where Malani collaborates in a dramatisation of Brecht’s story, ‘The Job’,
1997); and further on to such myriad phenomena as the biological and environmental
degradation of the body and its traumatiesed visage (as in her ‘Mutant’ series done during
1994-97). The threat of global destruction finds its culmination in her 1998 video installation
titled ‘Remembering Toba Tek Singh’ after Sadat Hassan Manto’s famous Partition story.
This is her end-of-the-century contribution to contemporary art, featuring eight video
monitors relaying scenes of religious terror/ethnic conflict. On three walls there are large
video projections: on the largest wall in front, a video montage shows simulated images of
the us bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, with an animation film by Malani, where she
draws, animates and bleeds humanoid figures into the terrain of a guilt-ravaged universe.
The work is occasioned by the addition, by India and Pakistan, to the global stockpile of
bombs, producing dire ideological effects along the subcontinental borders.
Continuing with the question of feminism and the politics of representation, Rummana
Hussain attempts successive modes of historical self-inscription: in her installations,
‘Home/Nation’ (1996) and ‘The Tomb of Begum Hazrat Mahal’ (1997), she chooses forms of
masquerade about the fictional/historical/real-life Muslim woman. Constructing an
overlap of the female body (subject to affliction, intrusion, aggression), historical sites
(recently violated: Ayodhya, Bombay), and prayer strung up as wish-fulfilling objects, she
lays out part-for-whole narratives about a Muslim woman’s identity in India. Representing
her as obviously marginalised, she arranges the installations to arrive at a kind of immanent
meaning, so that while she speaks of loss, she confirms the intricate patterns of a syncretic
culture to which she belongs and to which she contributes – suturing the wound and
offering social reparation. In her 1998 performance piece ‘Is It What You Think?’ she asks
crucial questions, as if from a crucible of Islam, but only so as to reach a transcendent state of
doubt about what is now too easily theorised as ethnic identity/female subjectivity.
Conclusion
There is, as we have seen, the appearance of an ironical aesthetic that drives a wedge between
the artists and art market, between art market and the state institutions. Heterodox
alternatives – secular, non-canonical, restlessly poised, interventionist art works – have
multiplied to offer a conceptual shaping of social energies in their transformative intent.
The point I want to emphasise is that while there is some ambitious and passionately
committed painting being done in India, there is at the same time a presentation of
archaeological/anthropological evidence, or what I have elsewhere called a poetics of
displaced objects. This is a much more process-based and situational art practice; it often
takes the form of installations where the artist, using familiar objects, can overlay different
modes of cognition and structure. And, further, as against this very foregrounding of
material, there is a determined resort to conceptual disjuncture. We know that it is in the
moment of disjuncture that an avant-garde names itself and recodes the forces of dissent into
the very vocabulary and structures of art.
22
Entre el 31 de marzo y el 7 de abril de 1999, el Comité de Premios
de la Fundación Príncipe Claus tuvo su primer encuentro de 1999 en
la Ciudad de México. La Fundación aprovechó esta oportunidad para
reunirse con algunos representantes del mundo intelectual y cultural
de México y para discutir temas y corrientes vigentes en América. La
investigación que desarrolla la Fundación sobre varios aspectos de la
cultura urbana, fue analizada con Néstor García Canclini, profesor e
investigador de la Universidad Autónoma Metropolitana, Iztapalapa.
Su visión de la megalópolis de Ciudad de México está consignada en
el siguiente artículo.
1.
Texto leído en el ciclo
de conferencias
‘Apocalipsis y utopía
de la Ciudad de
México’, del xv Festival
del Centro Histórico
de la Ciudad de
México, 8 de marzo de
1999
México: Los imaginarios en una ciudad global1
¿Cómo imaginan sus habitantes una ciudad que en 1940 tenía 1,644,921 pobladores, 5
millones en 1960 y alrededor de 18 millones en la actualidad? Una megalópolis que requiere
27 mil toneladas de alimentos cada día, donde se realizan 30 millones de viajes-persona
diarios, hace pensar en la frase del urbanista Rem Koolhaas cuando afirma que el siglo 20 ‘ha
sido una batalla perdida contra la cantidad’. ¿Qué le sucede a la ciudad de México a partir de la
tensión entre los imaginarios exuberantes que ha generado y la imposibilidad, repetida en
muchos tramos de su historia, de imaginarse como espacio habitable y compartido?
Se necesitó una formidable capacidad de concebir lo que no existe para inventar una ciudad
donde había un lago. Hubo que entubar los ríos, tapar los canales e imaginar una urbe seca
donde había tal abundancia líquida. Sería posible enlistar muchos otros combates entre los
imaginarios que hasta hoy se disputan la megalópolis: las fantasías de quienes llegan desde
provincia persiguiendo trabajo y mejor calidad de vida, quienes vienen del extranjero
creyendo arribar a la ciudad más poblada y más contaminada del mundo, aunque está
demostrado que Tokio, São Paulo y otras urbes la superan en esos logros. Pocas megalópolis
tan imaginadas como ésta, desde las descripciones de Hernán Cortés hasta las de periodistas
estadounidenses y exiliados latinoamericanos, desde las agencias de turismo hasta la
televisión transnacional.
Pero si la capital mexicana es hoy una ciudad más desordenada que barroca es porque los
imaginarios en conflicto han trabajado más para destruirse o ignorarse que para erigir una
utopía compartida. Y porque muchas de nuestras catástrofes son revelaciones trágicas de la
falta de imaginación sobre el futuro que se iba formando.
El arquitecto Yoshinoba Ashisara escribió que el espacio urbano puede crearse de dos
maneras: por adición o por sustracción. La mayoría de los habitantes de México no ha sentido
que hubiera que optar por una de estas dos estrategias. La ciudad se expandió del Centro
Histórico hasta las montañas lejanas, atropellando bosques, pavimentando laderas de cerros,
tumbando casas para construir periféricos y ejes viales que permitieran llegar a los extremos
invadidos, adicionando en esas vías pretendidamente rápidas miles de anuncios publicitarios que se tapan unos a otros, saturan el espacio visual con tantas promesas que ya nadie
logra leerlas, ni imaginar casi nada. En verdad, es una historia antigua. Ya el imaginario
colonial cubrió el Templo Mayor precolombino durante cinco siglos, los monumentos
novohispanos fueron demolidos para levantar edificios modernos y las avenidas de la
modernidad tuvieron que resignarse a perder su escala para que las torres posmodernas de
23
vidrio reflejante escondieran lo que las empresas transnacionales imaginan hacer con nuestra
ciudad y con el mundo desde algún piso secreto. Casi nunca esos edificios corporativos llevan
nombres que los identifiquen; sus anuncios proliferan en el periférico, donde sólo proclaman
mensajes publicitarios, sin que podamos imaginar lo que realmente están haciendo con
nosotros más allá de sus incitaciones al consumo.
¿Cómo sucede en la actualidad esta tensión entre la ciudad imaginada y la ciudad
imposible de imaginar? Una primera perspectiva es la del consumidor que tiene que orientarse entre todo lo que se le adicionó y se le sustrajo a la ciudad de México. Le resulta difícil
entender dónde vive y por dónde viaja cuando atraviesa esta megalópolis que a principios de
este siglo ocupaba 9.1 kilómetros y ahora se derrama en 1,500 kilómetros cuadrados.
Hace cinco años realizamos una investigación en archivos fotográficos para documentar
cómo habían cambiado las maneras de viajar por la ciudad en el último medio siglo. Luego,
reunimos a 10 grupos de personas que atraviesan intensamente la urbe – repartidores de
alimentos, vendedores ambulantes, taxistas, estudiantes, policías de tránsito – y les mostramos 50 fotos para que eligieran las más representativas. Las imágenes desataron relatos de
lo que se sospecha al circular por zonas desconocidas. Una de las conclusiones del estudio fue
que para la mayoría es difícil imaginar en qué ciudad viven, dónde empieza y acaba, cómo son
los sitios que atraviesan diariamente. Ante los enigmas y amenazas, se elaboran suposiciones, mitos y tácticas de corto plazo para eludir los congestionamientos o hacer arreglos
ocasionales con los extraños. Nadie tiene claro el mapa global de la megalópolis, ni pretende
abarcarla. La gente sobrevive imaginando pequeños entornos a su alcance. Dada la dificultad
de entender las transformaciones macrosociales y las causas estructurales de los desastres,
situaban la culpabilidad en grupos particulares: los migrantes sin preparación para vivir en la
gran ciudad, las manifestaciones políticas que entorpecen el tráfico, el exceso de coches
(aunque nadie mencionó responsables), la corrupción de los policías, o la irresponsabilidad
de dueños y dueñas de autos que los estacionan en tercera fila. La cultura urbana construida
como casuística engendra una cultura prepolítica, donde más que causas sistémicas se identifican culpables aislados.
Una segunda perspectiva es la de quienes tienen la posibilidad de mirar a la ciudad desde
las alturas del poder y de la comunicación. Mientras la diseminación de la ciudad vuelve
difícil la interacción entre sus barrios y disuelve la imagen de conjunto, los medios masivos
distribuyen imágenes que re-conectan las partes desparramadas. Así como la visualidad de la
urbe moderna se organizaba mediante el paseo del flâneur y la crónica literaria, en la actual
megalópolis la pretensión de dar narraciones totalizadoras es encargada al helicóptero que
sobrevuela la ciudad y ofrece cada mañana, por radio y televisión, el simulacro de una visión
de conjunto. Tripulado por policías que vigilan y periodistas que informan, ese nuevo poder
panóptico que cuenta dónde hubo un choque, qué calles están atascadas y recomienda por
dónde circular, exhibe la alianza del control policial y el control televisivo. Pero en tanto esta
visión mediática no ofrece información razonada sobre lo incontrolable en vez de ayudarnos
a imaginar cómo ser ciudadanos nos retiene viendo el espectáculo de la inseguridad desde la
pantalla doméstica.
¿Tampoco contaban con información quienes debían haber previsto este amontonamiento
de desórdenes? Ni bien uno se entera de que el primer plan regulador de la ciudad de México
se hizo en 1979, tiende a pensar que a quienes la gobernaron entre la década de los cincuenta y
la de los setenta, cuando la ciudad pasó de tres a quince millones de habitantes, de 60,000
coches a más de 2 millones, les faltó imaginación para ir previendo en cada sexenio los
embotellamientos y la contaminación, la indignación y la impotencia, que iban a atribularnos en el sexenio siguiente. Adicionaron ejes viales y coches y peseros, y se tardaron hasta la
década de los ochenta para ver qué había que sustraer o reducir o construir a una escala menos
monumental a fin de evitar que la desintegración triunfara sobre la convivencia.
24
‘La invisibilidad de la ciudad
es la visibilidad de la
contaminación.’
Aguilar, Miguel Ángel;‘Espacio
público y prensa urbana’,
publicado en: García Canclini,
Néstor (coord.); Cultura y
communicación en la Ciudad
de México, II:
La ciudad y los ciudadanos
imaginados por los medios,
Editorial Grijalbo, México,
d.f., 1998
En los últimos años, ante la dificultad de resolver los problemas de conjunto, se eligen unas
pocas zonas de la ciudad y se las destina a servir de focos ultramodernizadores, lugares donde
podremos fantasear que sintonizamos con la globalización. El último imaginario que se nos
propone al terminar el siglo es que México podría salvarse como ciudad global. Algunos
teóricos de la globalización avalan esta fantasía: Manuel Castells, Jordi Borja y Saskia Sassen
escriben que la capital mexicana reúne, en efecto, varios de los requisitos señalados para ser
una ciudad global: a) fuerte papel de empresas transnacionales, especialmente de organismos
de gestión, investigación y consultoría; b) mezcla multicultural de pobladores nacionales y
extranjeros; c) prestigio obtenido por la concentración de élites artísticas y científicas; d) alto
número de turistas de muchos países.
Es curioso: el crecimiento apresurado de la ciudad de México en el último medio siglo se debió a que millones de mexicanos de todo el país migraron hasta aquí imaginando que la
industrialización de la capital podía beneficiarlos a todos. Desde la apertura económica al
exterior, a principios de los ochenta, se desindustrializa la ciudad y se supone que las zonas
más dinámicas de desarrollo serán las vinculadas a la instalación de servicios transnacionales.
El Distrito Federal y su periferia metropolitana se han convertido en uno de los veinte
megacentros urbanos donde se articulan dispositivos de gestión, innovación y comercialización a escala mundial. Este cambio es patente, sobre todo, en las 650 hectáreas dedicadas en la
zona de Santa Fe a los edificios de Hewlet Packard, Mercedez Benz, Chubb Insurance, Televisa
y otras empresas, a centros comerciales y zonas residenciales de alto nivel. También se comprueba en la remodelación arquitectónica del Paseo de la Reforma, de partes de Polanco, Insurgentes y Periférico Sur, en la proliferación de macrocentros comerciales, nuevos hoteles transnacionales, la modernización de las telecomunicaciones y su conexión satelital, la difusión de
servicios informáticos, de televisión por cable y digital. Se apuesta a que la ‘monstruópolis’,
como la llamó Emiliano Pérez Cruz, sea rescatada por su conexión con imaginarios globales.
25
Sin embargo, la formación de nodos de gestión de servicios mundializados coexiste con
sectores tradicionales, actividades económicas informales o marginadas, deficientes servicios urbanos, las frustradas fantasías del desempleo y los miedos de la inseguridad. La dualización entre la ciudad global y la ciudad local marginada e insegura puede ser el principal
obstáculo para que México sea imaginada como sede atractiva por quienes anudan las redes
globales. Como advierten Borja y Castells, un alto riesgo de la globalización es que se haga para
una élite: ‘se vende una parte de la ciudad, se esconde y se abandona al resto’. Nueva York,
Chicago y Los Angeles, que fueron emblemas de peligros y violencia, lograron crecer como
metrópolis mundiales gracias a políticas de reordenamiento intenso (no siempre democrático) y mediante el desarrollo de ofertas urbanísticas y culturales que crearon espacios
urbanos seductores. ¿Puede nuestra megaciudad superar su caos reimaginando sólo algunos
pedazos privilegiados y olvidándose de imaginar lo que sucederá con el resto?
Después de todo lo que los sismos de 1985 le sustrajeron a esta ciudad comenzamos a
activar una imaginación más dispuesta a juntar sus partes. Parecíamos resueltos a reunir los
imaginarios de los movimientos sociales y de los partidos políticos, de los ciudadanos y de los
consumidores. Luego, cuando las catástrofes pierden su novedad, la imaginación se vuelve
menos solidaria, la ciudadanía corresponde apenas a las limitadas zonas por las que transitamos. ¿Será que nuestra megalópolis es demasiado vasta para imaginarla en conjunto, o acaso
-como postulan varios especialistas- una de las funciones de los imaginarios es a la larga
aplacar las perturbaciones de lo social, proponer equilibrios y pactos entre las fuerzas en
conflicto?
Tal vez elegimos vivir en ciudades no sólo por la riqueza de estímulos que excita nuestra
imaginación. También porque aún aquellas urbes en que triunfan la precariedad y el
desorden dan a nuestros vértigos imaginarios contención y descanso. Quizá para entender la
fascinación que suscita habitar una ciudad global haya que pensar a la vez a la ciudad, a
nuestra íntima y restringida micrópolis, como refugio contra lo que en la globalización nos
abisma. La pregunta que resta es si esta función protectora de la vida urbana puede cumplirse
cuando las desigualdades y la desconexión prevalecen sobre lo que nos hace vivir juntos.
Las dudas sobre el futuro de esta ciudad imaginada y desimaginada remiten a si podremos
hacernos cargo de los imaginarios de los otros. No es fácil que converjan los ríos antiguos que
bajan de los pueblos y los barrios, los recientes que traen el caudal de los medios y el torbellino global. Sería iluso intentar restablecer el lago, pero acaso podamos abrir más canales y
cruzarlos.
26
La Fundación Príncipe Claus va a publicar un libro sobre las
diferentes maneras de conmemorar la esclavitud en sus ambitos de
interés, basándose en el debate sobre ‘un gesto de reconciliación’ que
será promovido por Holanda. Frank Martinus Arion (Curaçao) es una
persona clave en este debate y en el desarrollo del libro.
Un gesto hermoso
Una herencia para los jóvenes
¿Debería Holanda realizar un gesto de reconciliación con aquellos que sufrieron a manos
suyas – víctimas de crímenes de lesa humanidad y en particular la esclavitud? Es ésta una
pregunta que por muchos años he considerado con vacilación. La repuesta llegó a ser clara
para mi durante los años setenta, mientras trabajaba en la Universidad de Amsterdam en el
área de literatura clásica del siglo diecisiete. La manera como me miraban los estudiantes
cuando llegaban, al empezar clases, me hizo evidente su confusión. Era obvio que dentro del
santuario de lo que se conoce como la Edad de Oro ellos no esperaban ser confrontados con
un resultado muy concreto de esa Edad de Oro: un individuo de piel morena, no de origen
Holandés. Podría agregar aquí, en este contexto – como crédito para la Universidad de
Amsterdam, y ciertamente para la revolucionaria Universidad de Amsterdam de esa época –
que durante los años en que hice presencia en sus recintos académicos nunca fuí
abiertamente rechazado por ningún estudiante. Por el contrario, después de cada temporada
académica había ganado varios buenos amigos; algunos incluso para toda la vida. Es verdad
que en más de una ocasión hubo estudiantes a quienes les costó mucho deshacerse de aquella
encubierta imagen pura del siglo diecisiete, tal como, y con el aprecio que, hasta ese
momento la habían conservado en sus corazones, para reemplazarla por otra más realista y
más oscura. Algunos de ellos negaron tener alguna responsabilidad en el aspecto oscuro de la
Edad de Oro, directa y emocionadamente; a menudo bajo el planteamiento retórico: pues yo
no existía cuando eso, ¿verdad?
La respuesta es clara: no, por supuesto que no; nadie es responsable por las acciones de sus
antepasados… a menos que haya aceptado la herencia de ésos ancestros. En otras palabras: un
español no podría sentirse orgulloso de los descubrimientos a gran escala de sus antepasados
sin sentirse avergonzado por las masacres de indígenas igualmente a gran escala.
Similarmente, un holandés no puede jactarse de los alcances de la Edad de Oro sin sentir una
porción de responsabilidad por las bárbaras prácticas como la esclavitud, que hicieron de la
Edad de Oro, como mínimo, una aleación de oro y bronce.
Pero en el análisis final, no son los herederos los que son culpables, no los jóvenes, sino
aquellos que transfieren esta herencia ocultando su verdadera naturaleza y sin pagar los
tributos que se adeudan sobre ella.
En el caso de la esclavitud – el mayor crimen de la colonia – la deuda resulta de que a los
esclavos nunca se les brindó ninguna compensación por el sufrimiento infligido. En
contraste con lo anterior, el estado de Holanda pagó compensación a los dueños de los
esclavos. Y lo que es todavía peor, debido a las riñas en relación con la compensación a ser
pagada, la abolición de la esclavitud se prolongó por una generación más de lo que era
estrictamente necesario.
La generación más mayor de los holandeses, no ha tenido hasta ahora el coraje moral de
aceptar el pasado, lo que los habilitaría para dejar una herencia más pura a sus hijos. También
ellos tratan de esconder o mimetizar al máximo los pecados pasados. O acuden a la excusa de
las tribus: que de lo que se hizo a otras tribus – otras tribus, muy lejos, al otro lado del mar,
27
‘Los instrumentos de la
música de los negros’
(traducción de la inscripción
orginal en francès)
en: J.G. Stedman;Voyage à
Surinam, 1798
© Royal Tropical Institute
1.
‘Camera obscura’ (1839) es
una novela del escritor
Nicolaas Beets (1814-1903;
seudónimo ‘Hildebrand’)
inclusive – para sobrevivir y levantar a los hijos, no se le puede inculpar a los antepasados.
Esta excusa, que asume que es permisible hacer a otros, cosas que uno no quisiera que le
hicieran a uno, siempre y cuando sea otro el que las haga, todavía prevalece, desafortunadamente en casi todo el mundo. Forma parte del comportamiento del poder-del-machete de
los hutus y los tutsis, de los serbios y los croatas, de los norte americanos con sus bombarderos, los franceses con sus tests nucleares. Está muy alejado de un comportamiento
humanístico que específicamente intenta elevarse por encima del tribalismo e intenta tratar a
la gente de lugares distantes también como vecinos. Por consiguiente, un gesto de reconciliación para los descendientes de aquellos que fueron injustamente tratados en el pasado
significa estar completamente preparados para dejar atrás la aldea tribal con el fin de vivir en
un mundo más amplio; aceptando la globalización, como se dice hoy en día.
El secreto de las concubinas
Otro ejemplo de alienación cultural por encubrimiento del pasado puede encontrarse en
muchas de las rimas infantiles holandesas. Canciones como ‘Oze wieze woze’, ‘E pompei’,
‘Iene miene mutte’ y muchas otras son percibidas de muchas maneras menos como lo que
realmente son: canciones creoles. En 1981 escribí un artículo sobre este tema en la revista
holandesa semanal ‘Groene Amsterdammer’. En reconocimiento con los editores de la
popular obra en tres partes ‘Kinderzang en kinderspel’ (canciones y juegos para niños), debo
mencionar que el artículo fue acogido inmediatamente para la edición número diecisiete de
este libro, que apareció en 1982. Espero que una gran cantidad de holandeses sepan ya que las
más hermosas rimas infantiles no provienen del panteón germánico, ni tampoco son
brillantes creaciones de bebés que balbuceaban sin sentido. Son canciones cuyos padres
holandeses escuchaban a sus concubinas afro-portuguesas cantándolole a sus morenos
descendientes en la Costa Occidental de África. Cuando estos padres regresaban a casa de
nuevo y los más niños (que nunca habían visto a papá) salían a su encuentro después de una
ausencia de meses y a veces años, ¡qué mejor que escuchar de los labios de papá una nueva
canción tan melodiosa como misteriosa! A través de los años he logrado reunir más y más
evidencia, testimonio de que mi versión es correcta. Mis colegas filologistas aún evitan el
tema, con la esperanza de que si todo el mundo se queda callado, el dorado color del pasado
estará protegido del bronce.
El secreto de la literatura
Los mejores ejemplos de la tergiversación encubridora y del dorado barniz sobre un pasado
de bronce se encuentran en la literatura. Se han propuesto innumerables razones para
explicar el largo silencio después de la publicación de ‘Camera obscura’1. Sin embargo ningún
estudio literario menciona el hecho de que Nicolaas Beets era miembro de una sociedad que
promovía la abolición de la esclavitud, fundada en 1853; o el hecho de que entre 1847 y 1857
dio por lo menos tres discursos en contra de esta bárbara institución. Debido a esta
(¿deliberada?) falta de información, Nicolaas Beets es obviamente asignado al género de
humor no-comprometido, tal vez, sin que le corresponda en absoluto. Como ejemplo podría
tomarse a ‘De Familie Kegge’, incluido en la tercera impresión de ‘Camera Obscura’ en 1851 y
escrito desde 1840. Se convierte en una historia más coherente, una sátira más rica, si se da por
sentado que Nicolaas Beets había ya tomado una posición en contra de la esclavitud y los
dueños de esclavos, antes de la publicación de ‘Camera Obscura’. Al insistir, con tergiversaciones, en excluir la esclavitud del pasado de la nación y en particular de la literatura ‘pura’,
‘Camera Obscura’ pierde en gran parte su significado; y se incrementa el tedio por la literatura.
Sospecha política
Al carecer de una actitud de rechazo a la esclavitud sin ambigüedades, una actitud que solo
28
29
puede ser demostrada por medio de un gesto hermoso o de ‘Wiedergutmachung’, Holanda
sigue siendo un compañero poco confiable dentro de un reino que se supone, está conformado por compañeros iguales. Esta sospecha es reforzada por el hecho de que Holanda
fue uno de los últimos países en abolir la esclavitud, al demorarlo hasta 1863, junto con
España y Brasil. O sea quince años después de la proclamación de la Constitución de
Holanda. Nótese aquí que cuando se conmemoraron los 150 años de este suceso, el Ministro
de Asuntos Exteriores de Holanda invitó a las Antillas a participar en la preparación de un
material educativo para jóvenes. Ni por un instante fue considerado el hecho de que esta
Constitución de 1948 no llegó a tener ninguna significancia para la comunidad de esclavos de
las Antillas Holandesas. ¡El colmo del descaro!
Es más, la liberación de las colonias tampoco fue motivo para que Holanda andara con
prisas. Al contrario. Claramente se negó, haciéndole la guerra a Indonesia, después de haber
sufrido en carne propia la bota de la opresión. Y en cuanto a Surinam y a las Antillas
Holandesas se refiere,nunca se ha pasado del bosquejo para un fuero.
Por consiguiente, la pregunta es si de verdad Holanda quiere hacer una nueva historia
democrática en el nuevo milenio, por medio de acciones y no palabras escritas, o si está
simplemente esperando la oportunidad para volver a sus viejas mañas. Hay muchas
sospechas, ciertamente en relación con la actitud de Holanda para con las Antillas
Holandesas en la última década. Parece que Holanda ya hubiera descubierto el modelo
francés de liberación de colonias, en que éstas son completamente incorporadas a la madre
patria, supuestamente concediendo iguales derechos. Parece que hubiera cierto afán por
conducir las relaciones dentro del reino en la misma dirección. Esta gran sospecha se nutre en
el hecho de que Holanda nunca fue transparente en su manera de romper con el pasado
colonial y la esclavitud. Nunca ha habido un ‘beau geste’ hacia los descendientes de las
víctimas de crímenes de lesa humanidad por parte de Holanda, aunque estos descendientes
se sienten diario a la mesa junto a gente holandesa. Nunca nadie ha dicho lo siento. Ningún
intento serio se ha hecho para compensar a esta gente por la posición de desventaja en que
fueron colocadas. Se considera completamente normal que los alemanes y los japoneses
indemnicen (‘Wiedergutmachung’) a sus antiguas víctimas, pero la misma idea es ridiculizada cuando se trata de Holanda en relación con las Antillas y Surinam.
Monumento
El gobierno holandés podría dar el primer paso que guíe a sus ciudadanos hacia una apertura
con relación al pasado; podría dar un primer paso hacia externa y concreta ‘Wiedergutmachung’, no solamente con las Antillas Holandesas y Surinam, sino con todo el mundo de
las Indias Occidentales. Este primer paso, podría ser la colocación de un monumento en algún lugar, un monumento contra la tiranía y la opresión, contra la esclavitud particularmente, un monumento por los derechos humanos en todo el mundo, sólo con las palabras:
nunca otra vez. Sería el monumento correspondiente, que ahora hace falta, al monumento de
la liberación en Dam en Amsterdam. Sería una despedida final al tribalismo destructivo.
30
The Prince Claus Fund supported the publication of the catalogue
accompanying the 1998 African Photography Encounters in Bamako,
Mali.1This article is an extended version of the introduction to the
catalogue.The photographs are by Algerian photographer Omar D.,
participant in the Photography Encounters in December 1998 and
contributor to the catalogue.
Salah M. Hassan
Bamako’s African Photography Encounters:
A Renaissance in the Making
1.
See for this catalogue also
p. 72 of this Journal.
2.
Janus, Elizabeth (ed.);
Veronica’s Revenge, Contemporary Perspectives on
Photography, Scalo, Zurich/
New York, 1998, p. 29
3.
See Grundberg, Andy; ‘Art
and Photography, Photography and Art: Across the
Modernist Membrane’, in:
Janus, Elizabeth (ed.);
Veronica’s Revenge: Contemporary Perspectives on
Photography, Scalo, Zurich/
New York, 1998, p. 44
Any serious discussion of photography within the African context must take into
consideration both the history of photography and the particular aesthetics which it comes
to represent. It must also take into consideration the revolutionary transformations which
photography has undergone as a genre, especially during the last thirty years.
Though photography today assumes an important role in contemporary art practice, this
has not always been the case. Through much of its history, the status of photography within
the history of art has often been precarious, if not inconspicuous. In order for photography
to be accepted as a legitimate art form, it had first to transcend its original function as a
representation of ‘reality’. As a genre, photography went through a process of gradual transformations before it came to represent the aesthetic ideals of accepted art history. Ironically,
it was the documentary function of photography, its ‘representation of the real’, that first
impressed the consciousness of art history. At its inception, photography offered little more
than an alternative to the ‘scrupulous imitation of nature’ so much in vogue among painters
of that era. Yet, as the conventions and aesthetics of painting changed, so did ideas concerning photography. Therefore, the recognition of photography as a fine art is a consequence of
its appropriation of the formal qualities of painting in terms of framing, perspective and
composition, as well as its use of the conventional subjects of painting such as landscape,
portraits, and genre scenes.
Photography, as Elizabeth Janus eloquently suggested, ‘has been key to some of the most
radical artistic advances, partly because it forced artists to ask profound questions about the
roots of representation and partly because it changed the way we think about and look at the
world around us’.2 Photography has been highly influential in the most revolutionary transformation in the art of this century, that is, the transition from pictorialism to idea-based
image-making. The disruptive techniques of Marcel Duchamps, the Pop Art strategies of
Andy Warhol, and Walter Benjamin’s critique of originality in art helped pave the road to the
conceptualism which has dominated contemporary art practices since the 1960s. With the
rise of post-modernism, photography has provided artists with profound possibilities for
experimenting and the greatest means of appropriating reality and critiquing traditional
artistic conventions and practices. With the dissolution of boundaries between the different
media, photography has come to define our understanding of artistic expression. In the
words of Andy Grundberg, who describes photographs as ‘those omnipresent, seemingly inescapable products of cultural information’, photography and its allied forms of lens-based
image-making, film and video, have become ‘part and parcel of contemporary art’.3 In more ways
than one, photography has become the tool par excellence of contemporary artistic creation.
The question is, how do Africans fare in these developments? What happens when
Africans turn the camera on their own culture? What happens when they shift the focus to
31
p. 32
Omar D. (1941,Algeria)
Eté 1994: Alger, la
blanche
courtesy of the
photographer / with
thanks to FNAC
32
cultures other than their own? Are the resulting images different from those created by
Western photographers? If so, in what ways? How does the use of a non-African medium,
such as photography, affect the aesthetics of African cultures, and in what ways? Some of
these questions might not have been asked if the medium of photography had originally
been African. In answering such questions, two considerations come to mind. One, is that
the complexity and diversity of the African experience defies any monolithic assumptions
concerning Africa’s identity, cultures or art history. The history of photographic practices in
Africa is no exception. The other is that the idea of Africa in photographic practices has been
defined by the Western gaze and its resulting images. Certainly, Africans and Western
photographers are rarely asked the same questions. A Westerner’s gaze is assumed to be
natural, and the resulting images, especially those pertaining to the ‘other’, such as Africans,
have often become the ‘real’, the ‘ethnographic’, and the ‘documentary’. It is only recently
that Western imaging of Africans has become the subject of critical reflection.
The connection between the development of modern media and the advent of European
colonialism in Africa is undisputed. The European fascination with Africa and the camera
dates back to the earliest days of colonisation. Appropriation of Africa’s visual world through
the invention of the camera went hand in hand with the appropriation of Africa’s wealth.
The result has been the stereotypical representation of Africa so prevalent today in the
Western media. Western fascination with the exotic aspects of African life is well evident in
the photographs and documentaries of such organisations as the National Geographic.
Television images of African famines, wars and other disasters, to the exclusion of all other
images, and the ‘jungle melodramas’ and ‘romances of the African bush’ so prevalent in
Hollywood films, are all typical of Africa’s representation in the West. The history of
photography in Africa is deeply embedded in the colonial system, which consciously
developed what was known as the Photographic and Film Units into a tool of cultural
imperialism. The resulting images produced by these units were meant to serve a double
purpose: one, to convince the European audience of the success of the imperial venture; and
two, to show the African audience the advantages of colonial rule.
This was the past that confronted African photographers in the wake of colonialism, as
they faced the challenge of transcending the images created by decades of colonial rule. And
they met this challenge head-on. We know that the history of photography in Africa is not
even. In places such as Egypt, Tunisia and South Africa, the camera was put to use in the late
19th century, a few years after its invention in Europe and North America, while it took half a
century for the camera to attain similar currency in other parts of Africa. Today, it can be
confidently stated that Africans have appropriated the medium and shaped it into their own
image. They have told their own stories, registered their own memories and presence, and in
the process created their own identities and self-images. African artists and photo-graphers
have been in the forefront of modernism and post-modernism, actively shaping the
direction of art practices during the greater part of this century. ‘Studioists’ such as Mama
Casset and Seydou Keita are only a few of the many photographers whose pioneer work
bridges the gap between tradition and modernity, and whose methodical documentation
offers a visual representation of the gap between colonial and post-colonial identities in
Africa. The rise of independence and struggles for liberation in the 1950s and 1960s brought
new demands for visual representation, and the creation of new nations required new
images. African photographers responded to these challenges by creating a new visual
language for the representation of a modern African identity. Magazines such as Drum in
Southern and West Africa, or Al-Musawwar in Egypt, provide a rich repository of the
images of Africa created by this new generation of African photographers.
In the contemporary field, African artists have long been in the vanguard of international
art practice, taking up critical positions in the emerging discourse about contemporary
33
p. 34
Omar D. (1941,Algeria)
1994
courtesy of the
photographer / with
thanks to FNAC
4.
Fani-Kayode, Rotimi; ‘Traces
of Ecstacy’, in: Bailey, David
et al. (eds.); Black British
Photography in the 80s,
Birmingham, 1992, p. 68
5.
Enwezor, Okwui and
Octavio Zaya; ‘Colonial Imaginary, Tropes of Disruption’, in: In/sight, African
Photographers: 1940 to the
Present, Guggenheim
Museum, New York, 1996,
p. 22
34
cultural production in Africa. The art world is now aware of the South African artist Santu
Mofokeng, whose recent work provides the most exciting clues about the direction which
the aesthetics and politics of representation is taking in post-apartheid South Africa. It is also
aware of the Nigerian-born Rotimi Fani-Kayode, whose short-lived career offered a means
to repossess images created by ‘the exploitative mythologising of black virility’ and ‘vulgar
objectification of Africa’, through the transformation and ritual re-appropriation of those
very images.4 Yet these are only a few of the many African artists whose work deserves
wider recognition. The question, as put by Enwezor and Zaya in their recent introduction to
a landmark exhibition at the Guggenheim Museum in New York, is ‘How do we address
questions of representation, self-imaging, and artistic freedom when these [African]
initiatives are counteracted by stronger economic imperatives, and when the contingencies
of social and epistemological control are made to bend the influence of power and control?’5
The answer to these questions, as the authors have argued, lies in the development of
scholarly and historical research on African photography. One way of accomplishing this
task is to create and sustain new means of researching, documenting and showcasing African
photography. Hence, the great importance of Bamako’s African Photography Encounters as a
forum for latest endeavours in this field.
Now for the third time as a biennale dedicated solely to photography, Bamako’s African
Photography Encounters has proven to be a viable forum for showcasing African talent and
African contributions to the art of photography. The 1994 premiere, initiated by Afrique en
Créations (Paris) with support from the government of Mali, showcased a wide variety of
African works ranging from the portraits of ‘Studioists’ such as Seydou Keita of Mali to the
stunning visual documents of apartheid in the photography of Santu Mofokeng, Jenny
Gordon and Ingrid Hudson. It opened a window to new ideas in African photography by
exhibiting works of the Malian photographer Malick Sidibe and the late Rotimi Fani-Kayode,
whose works were sponsored by the Paris-based Revue Noire. The premiere of Encounters
also gave us a taste of the Independence era and the euphoria accompanying the emergence of
new nations in Africa by showcasing images from the National Archives of Cinema and
Photography in Guinea and Mali. The second Bamako’s Encounters, in 1996, expanded in
this direction by adding new photographic genres and showcasing additional African
photographers. Among the new exhibitions were the documentary works of photo-journalists Khamis Ramadan of Kenya and Alexander Joe of Zimbabwe. In one of its most
interesting segments, the second Encounters presented the historical works of Armenian
photographers whose portraits of the Ethiopian aristocracy offered us a rare glimpse of life in
Imperial Ethiopia during the 1940s and 1950s.
In 1998, the third Bamako’s Encounters combines a thematic approach with a country-bycountry exhibition to bring together a unique diversity of genres and styles. Works of those
dedicated to the ideals of documentary photography, such as Peter McKenzie and Themba
Rodebe of South Africa, are shown side by side with works that approach photography from
a more conceptualist framework, such as the fascinating oeuvre of Antonio Ole of Angola.
More importantly, this third Encounters represents a leap forward in bringing North Africa
into the sphere of African photography – an element clearly missing in the earlier forums,
where the focus was limited to sub-Saharan Africa. This more inclusive approach is a move
away from the dichotomising tendencies prevalent in representations of African art in the
West. Works by Omar D. of Algeria, Hisham Labib of Egypt and Nabil Mahdaoui of Morocco
add to the rich mosaic of African photography by showcasing North African sensibilities and
aesthetics. Even more interesting is the decision to dedicate a section to the photography of
Ghana, a country known for being the first to gain independence in sub-Saharan Africa.
One could ask: why a biennale dedicated solely to African photography? Why exhibit and
showcase African works? The answer is very simple: If You Do Not Exhibit, You Do Not
35
Exist! Exhibitions are the building blocks of art history. They are crucial in mediating the art
object and in moving it from the private to the public domain. Exhibitions, and the curatorial
practices behind them, are the most powerful means of selecting, staging, and ultimately
canonising art. In the words of Walter Grasskamp: ‘Historiography, including art historiography, is only possible if a few events are selected from the chaos and peddled. Historiography pretends to go by the worth of events, as contemporaries supposedly saw it, but uses
its own evaluation.’6
Art history has priorities that help to reduce the ‘chaos’ – to use Grasskamp’s term – into
more manageable terms, and to create a coherent art historical narrative. Those priorities are
extracted from the raw material of published texts, juries, commissions, and above all staged
exhibitions and forums for showcasing artistic creativity. Needless to say, the economic
component is vital to the emergence of these priorities, as witnessed by the role played by
curators, patrons, museums, art galleries, art dealers, agents, collectors and, in most cases,
the artists themselves. All these are the constituents of an infrastructure and art industry
badly needed in a continent still struggling with its colonial heritage, neo-colonial hegemony
and dependency. Building and sustaining this art industry is crucial to any real renaissance in
African arts; the renaissance we should all hope for and strive to achieve. Bamako’s
Photography Encounters, by joining the ranks of other African-based initiatives such as the
Dakar, Cairo and Johannesburg biennales of art, is an important step in the right direction.
L’Algérie de tous les silences
6.
Grasskamp, Walter; ‘For
Example Documenta, Or
How Art History Is Produced’, in: Greenberg, Reesa
et al. (eds.); Thinking About
Exhibitions, Routledge, New
York, 1996, p. 68
Silence! on tue. Par dizaines, par centaines, par centaines de milliers.
Dans la nuit, dans le silence, dans l’indifférence,
Dans l’horreur du Temps qui passe,
Ces Yeux sans regard,
Ces regards sans lumière, vous regardent.
Vous scrutent, vous dévisagent, sans se plaindre.
Silence! passez votre chemin, rien à voir!
Omar D. (1941,Algérie)
La victime, 1998
avec la permission du
photographe / merci à la
Des siècles de deuil.
L’Algérie vit la douleur du silence.
Silence d’un peuple, silence du pouvoir.
Silence des inquisiteurs. Silence du monde.
Quoi de plus silencieux qu’une photographie.
Photos de ce peuple sans parole.
Bouches sans voix, yeux sans regard.
FNAC
Des siècles de répression.
Et ces yeux qui nous interrogent, vous interpellent, espèrent.
Ces enfants aux yeux brûlant de lumière,
Dans les ténèbres du temps qui fuit.
Fuire la honte et l’oppression.
Meurtris par le crime et l’inquisition,
Dans la nuit de l’horreur, ces larmes intarissables,
Et cette mémoire qui ne finit pas d’essayer d’oublier.
Des siècles d’amnésie dans les ruines du temps effrité
Et du sang séché par ce soleil brûlant et aveuglant,
Il ne restera que ces statues émasculées
Pas des ombres d’un temps révolu,
Et les vers du poète sans cesse assassiné.
Se nourrir de nostalgie, désarmés par la bêtise,
Juste quelques images pour continuer à se battre,
A résister, à exister.
Omar D.
‘L’Algérie de tous les silences, 1970-1998.
Photographies de Omar D.’ Exposition itinérante
produite par la fnac, France, en collaboration avec
les Rencontres de la photographie à Bamako.
Pour touts renseignements complémentairs:
fnac, 67 Bd. du Général-Leclerc, 92110 Clichy,
France, fax: +33-1-55215452, www.fnac.fr
36
37
As part of the presentation ceremony of the 1998
Prince Claus Awards, held on 9 December 1998 at
the Royal Palace in Amsterdam, the Prince Claus
Fund staged a show of avant-garde African fashion
entitled ‘A Cosmopolitan Identity of the 21st Century’. Nine designers from Africa, working both on
the African continent and in the Diaspora, presented designs which they had specially selected or
created in keeping with this theme.
Works of Art /
Oeuvres d’Art /
Obras de Arte
Among the participants – presented on the following pages – were the three recipients of the Principal 1998 Prince Claus Award, which was granted to
‘The Art of African Fashion’: Oumou Sy, Alphadi
and Tetteh Adzedu. They shared the stage with
their colleagues Aya Konan, Martin Kapfumvuti,
Joël Andrianomearisoa, Katoucha, Abraham Pelham
and Lamine Kouyaté.
Tetteh Adzedu
Alphadi
Photographs: Anne van Gelder, Jorrit ’t Hoen, Amsterdam
Hair and make-up: House of Orange, Amsterdam
Styling: Bastiaan van Schaik
Design and technical realisation: Messina Productions,
Joël Andrianomearisoa
Martin Kapfumvuti
Katoucha
Amsterdam
Aya Konan
Models: Elite, Amsterdam; Name Models, Amsterdam;
Lamine Kouyaté
Monique, Nathalie and Lucelle, Amsterdam; Demba Dia,
Abraham Pelham
Mame Cheikh Thioub, Khadija Sy, Dakar
Oumou Sy
The Prince Claus Fund has published a book, co-financed by
Vlisco bv, entitled ‘The Art of African Fashion’. It gives an
overview of the state of the arts of fashion design, textile
design, hair design and body painting by African designers both
in Africa and in the Diaspora. It also shows traditional clothing
cultures and discusses contemporary looks and identities. See
p. 72-73.
38
Prince
PrinceClaus
ClausFund
FundJournal
Journal##22
39
39
Tetteh Adzedu
(1949, Odumasi
Tetteh Adzedu graduated from the Ardis School of Krobo, Ghana)
Fashion in Washington dc in 1978. He is the founder of the fashion house Adzedu of Shapes in
Ghana and runs a school for fashion designers in
Accra, the Adzedu African Fashion Institute. He is
President of the Ghana Fashion Designers’ Association and in 1990 he won a Ghana National Award
for Export Achievement. He says of himself that he
is ‘a militant for tradition’. Adzedu of Shapes is a
frequent participant at fashion shows in Africa and
the usa. He designs for the well-known Ghanaian
singer Kojo Antwi and for several heads of state.
Adzedu was awarded the Principal 1998 Prince
Claus Award for preserving and reappraising African clothing traditions and adopting them to create
contemporary fashion.
40
Tetteh Adzedu a obtenu le diplôme de l’Ardis
School of Fashion à Washington dc en 1978. Il fonde
la maison de couture Adzedu of Shapes au Ghana et
il dirige une école de créateurs de mode à Accra,
l’Adzedu African Fashion Institute. Il est Président
de l’association ghanéenne des créateurs de mode
et s’est vu décerner en 1990 un prix de l’Etat
ghanéen pour ses résultats à l’exportation. Il dit de
lui-même qu’il est un ‘militant de la tradition’.
Adzedu of Shapes participe fréquemment à des
présentations de mode en Afrique et aux EtatsUnis. Adzedu crée des modèles pour le célèbre
chanteur ghanéen Kojo Antwi et pour plusieurs
chefs d’Etat. Il a reçu en 1998 le Premier Prix Prince
Claus pour son aptitude à sauvegarder et à remettre
à l’honneur les costumes traditionnels africains
ainsi qu’à les adopter pour créer une mode contemporaine.
41
Alphadi
(1957,Timbuktu /
Alphadi is a graduate of the Chardon Savard Studio Tombouctou, Mali)
in Paris and the Fashion Institute of Technology in
Washington dc. Together with other African designers he founded the Fédération Africaine des
Créateurs; he is the current President of this Association. He lives and works in Niamey, Niger. As ‘a
child of the desert’ he seeks to maintain alive African traditions using traditional techniques in his
creations, combining materials such as leather, silver
and bronze with raw cotton, linen and silk. His
creations are intended as a ‘homage to the modern
African woman’. In November 1998, Alphadi organised the first Festival International de la Mode
Africaine (fima), in the desert of the Agadez region
in Niger. This event was orientated towards international exchanges in high fashion and towards
making this Tuareg area part of cultural life in Niger.
Alphadi was awarded the Principal 1998 Prince
Claus Award for his high quality fashion and the
promotion of a fashion infrastructure for Africa.
42
Alphadi est diplômé du Studio Chardon Savard à
Paris et du Fashion Institute of Technology à
Washington dc. Avec d’autres créateurs africains, il
fonde la Fédération africaine des créateurs dont il
assure actuellement la présidence. Il est installé à
Niamey, au Niger. ‘Enfant du désert’, il cherche à
maintenir les traditions africaines en utilisant des
techniques traditionnelles dans ses créations, et en
combinant des matériaux tels que cuir, argent et
bronze avec du coton brut, du lin et de la soie. Ses
créations sont un hommage à la ‘femme africaine
moderne’. En novembre 1998, Alphadi organise le
premier Festival international de la mode africaine
(fima) dans le désert du Niger, axé sur les échanges
internationaux dans la haute couture. Alphadi a reçu
le Premier Prix Prince Claus 1998 pour la qualité de
ses modèles et la promotion d’une infrastructure de
la mode pour l’Afrique.
43
Joël
Andrianomearisoa
Joël Andrianomearisoa was only twelve when he (1977, Madagascar)
enrolled at the fashion academy in his home city
Antananarivo, where he was to win several first
prizes. After completing his secondary education
he went to classes at the Institut des Métiers et des
Arts Plastiques in Antananarivo. Since 1995 he
experiments with different materials, such as wood,
metal, stone and plastic. He presented his first
fashion shows at the end of 1995, since when he has
been producing new creations at a rapid rate. He
frequently designs for stage and film productions in
Madagascar and other countries, and is much in
demand as a television scenery designer. In 1996 he
won the Antananarivo Jeune Talent 96 trophy.
Since September 1998 he has been studying architecture in Paris, France.
44
Joël Andrianomearisoa n’a que douze ans lorsqu’il
s’inscrit à l’académie de mode d’Antananarivo où il
va remporter plusieurs premiers prix. Après ses
études secondaires, il suit les cours de l’Institut des
métiers et des arts plastiques d’Antananarivo à
Madagascar. Depuis 1995, il expérimente différents
matériaux – bois, métal, pierre et plastique. Depuis
ses premières présentations de mode, fin 1995, ses
nouvelles créations se succèdent à un rythme
rapide. Il crée fréquemment des modèles pour le
théâtre et le cinéma à Madagascar et dans d’autres
pays. Il est également très demandé pour la création de décors pour la télévision. En 1996, il a remporté le trophée Jeune talent 96 d’Antananarivo.
Depuis septembre 1998, il suit des cours d’architecture à Paris, France.
45
Martin Kapfumvuti
(1969, Botswana)
Martin Kapfumvuti graduated in 1990 from the
Bulawayo Polytechnic College, where he obtained
the City and Guilds of London Institute Certificate
in Hairdressing. He won the Hairdressing Association of Bulawayo’s Afro-Hair Free Styling Award
and the Revlon Southern African Competition.
Kapfumvuti, who has taken it upon himself to
promote the hairdressing profession in Botswana,
is secretary of the Health, Beauticians and Hairdressing Trade Advisory Committee. He advises
hairdressers’ schools and companies setting up
new centres for trainee hairdressers. He has founded a national hairdressing training course where
he tests the latest materials and techniques. He also
runs his salon in Gaborone in which he organises
workshops, demonstrations and internships.
46
Martin Kapfumvuti a achevé en 1990 la formation
du Bulawayo Polytechnic College où il a obtenu le
City and Guilds of London Institute Certificate in
Hairdressing. Il a remporté le prix Afro-Hair Free
Styling de l’association de Bulawayo et le concours
Revlon pour l’Afrique australe. Kapfumvuti, qui se
propose de promouvoir la profession de coiffeur au
Botswana, est secrétaire du comité consultatif des
métiers de la santé, de l’esthétique et de la coiffure.
Il conseille les écoles et les sociétés de coiffure qui
créent de nouveaux centres de formation de coiffeurs. Il a mis en place un cours national de coiffure
où il teste les derniers matériaux et techniques. Il
dirige également un salon dans lequel il organise
des ateliers, des démonstrations et des stages.
47
Katoucha
(1960, Guinea /
Having spent most of her youth in Mali and Senegal, Guinée)
the twenty-year-old Katoucha went to Paris, where
she soon made her name as a top model. She has
worked with celebrated designers like Yves SaintLaurent, Givenchy, Paco Rabanne and Azzedine
Alaïa. She and Iman are the first African women to
have launched a ‘black attitude’ in the world of
fashion. After ending her modelling career she
started her own design studio in 1996, where she
has developed a style of her own. She is based in
London. Faithful to her origins, she integrates
Africa into her complete collection. Themes such
as ‘Out of Africa’, ‘Urban Caftan’, ‘African Rock’ and
‘Les Barbares Sublimes’ play major roles in her
work. Katoucha participated in the 1998 fima, an
international fashion event based in Niger.
48
Après une enfance passée principalement au Mali
et au Sénégal, Katoucha, âgée alors de vingt ans,
part pour Paris où elle se fait rapidement un nom
comme top model. Elle travaille avec des créateurs
aussi célèbres qu’Yves Saint-Laurent, Givenchy,
Paco Rabanne et Azzedine Alaïa. Iman et ellemême sont les premières femmes africaines à
mettre une ‘empreinte black’ sur le monde de la
mode. Abandonnant sa carrière de mannequin, elle
ouvre une agence de design en 1996 dans laquelle
elle développe son propre style. Elle est installée à
Londres. Fidèle à ses origines, elle intègre l’Afrique
dans toute sa collection . Des thèmes tels que ‘Out
of Africa’, ‘Urban Caftan’, ‘African Rock’ et ‘Les
Barbares Sublimes’ influencent fortement ses
créations.
49
Aya Konan
(1965, Ivory Coast /
Aya Esther Konan was trained as a bookkeeper Côte d’Ivoire)
before switching to fashion. In 1987 she opened her
own fashion house in Abidjan, where she was a
successful participant in the annual African designer contest Ciseaux d’Or in Abidjan. She started
designing her own jewellery line, Makéda, in 1992,
inspired by traditional African art of the Akan and
Ashanti peoples. In 1996 she set up Makéda Fusion,
which markets her commercial designs. She
currently presents three different lines. Her designs
are sold in her gallery and shop in Abidjan. In
November 1998 she participated in the fima, a
large-scale fashion event which presented work by
leading designers from Africa, Europe and Asia and
which was held in the desert of Niger.
50
Aya Esther Konan a eu une formation de comptable
avant de s’orienter vers la mode. En 1987, elle ouvre
sa propre maison de couture à Abidjan où elle
participe avec succès au concours annuel de
création de mode africaine Ciseaux d’or. Elle se met
à créer sa propre ligne de bijoux, Makéda, en 1992,
inspirée de l’art africain traditionnel des peuples
akan et ashanti. En 1996, elle fonde Makéda Fusion,
qui commercialise ses modèles. Elle présente
actuellement trois lignes différentes. En novembre
1998, elle participe au fima, le Festival international
de mode africaine tenu dans le désert du Niger.
51
Lamine Kouyaté
(1962, Mali)
Lamine Badian Kouyaté is known in fashion circles
as ‘Xuly Bët’. He studied architecture at the upa
University of Strasbourg, France, and at La Villette
School of Architecture in Paris, before embarking
on a career in fashion. In 1989 he launched the label
that gave him his pseudonym: Xuly Bët Funkin’
Fashion Factory inc. ‘Xuly Bët’ means ‘wanna take
my picture’ in Wolof, one of the main West-African
laguages. In 1992 he presented his first spring/
summer collection in black-and-white. A year later
he featured in important New York fashion shows.
Since then he has been associated with major labels
such as 3 Suisses and Puma. Among his many
awards are the Prix du Ministère de la Culture’, the
Vénus de la Mode and the Trophée de la Mode 1996.
In 1998 he designed costumes for the inaugural
ceremony at the Stade de France (the new stadium
in Paris), and was invited to stage fashion shows in
Argentina and Brazil. His clothes are found chiefly
in small boutiques and in his own shops in Paris,
Marseilles and New York.
52
Lamine Badian Kouyaté (pseudonyme ‘Xuly Bët’) a
fait des études d’architecture à l’ upa de l’université
de Strasbourg, France, et à l’Ecole d’architecture de
La Villette à Paris, France, avant de commencer une
carrière dans la mode. En 1989, il lance le label Xuly
Bët Funkin’ Fashion Factory inc. ‘Xuly Bët’ signifie
‘tu veux ma photo’ en wolof. En 1992, il présente sa
première collection de printemps-été en noir et
blanc. Un an après, il participe à des présentations
de mode importantes à New York. Depuis, il prête
son concours à des marques célèbres telles que 3
Suisses et Puma. De nombreux prix ont récompensé son travail, notamment le Prix du ministère
de la culture, la Vénus de la mode et le Trophée de la
mode 1996. En 1998, il crée des modèles pour la
cérémonie d’inauguration du Stade de France et il
est invité à présenter ses créations en Argentine et
au Brésil. On trouve ses vêtements principalement
dans des petites boutiques et dans ses propres
magasins à Paris, Marseilles et New York.
53
Abraham Pelham
(1958, Liberia)
Abraham Pelham has developed a taste for beautiful fabrics and ‘true chic’. After his studies at the
University of Liberia he went to the United States
to fulfil his dream of becoming a fashion designer.
He attended classes at the Fashion Institute of
Technology in New York and embarked on a successful American career. After taking part in the
‘African Mosaïque’ fashion show, organised by
Ethiopian model Anna Getaneh to the benefit of
the Ethiopian Children’s Fund in Paris in 1996, he
decided to settle in the French capital. In 1998 he
designed his first couture line. For him, aesthetic
perfection is the motor of his creativity.
54
Abraham Pelham a développé un goût pour les
beaux tissus et le ‘vrai chic’. Après des études à
l’université du Liberia, il part aux États-Unis pour
réaliser son rêve et devenir créateur de mode. Il suit
des cours au Fashion Institute of Technogy à New
York et entame aux Etats-Unis une carrière qui sera
couronnée de succès. Après avoir participé à la présentation de mode ‘African Mosaïque’, organisée à
Paris en 1996 par le mannequin éthiopien Anna
Getaneh au bénéfice de la fondation ecf pour les
enfants de son pays, Abraham Pelham décide de
s’installer dans la capitale française. En 1998, il crée
sa première ligne de couture. Chez lui, la perfection
esthétique est le moteur de la créativité
55
Oumou Sy
(1952, Podor,
Oumou Sy is self-taught and lives and works in Senegal / Sénégal)
Dakar. She teaches at the Ecôle des Beaux Arts and
at the ‘Ateliers de Stylisme et de Formation aux Arts
et Techniques Traditionelles et Modernes du
Costume et de la Parure en Afrique et en Occident’,
which she founded herself. Oumou Sy has designed
costumes for African and foreign films and stage
productions. In 1993 she won the prize for the best
costumes at the Ouagadougou Film Festival,
Burkina Faso, and the Professionali Cinema prize in
Milan. In 1995 she won another prize for the best
costumes at the Johannesburg Film Festival. In 1998
she founded the Carnival of Dakar, in which
participated 80 floats, 250 persons and 3 trucks, all
decorated by Oumou Sy and the students of her
school. On 13 February 1999 the Carnival was held
for the second time, on an even larger scale. Her
theatrical collection ‘Rois et Reines d’Afrique’
mixes history with avant-garde and travels all over
the globe. In November 1998, she participated in
fima, a show of leading designers from Africa and
elsewhere held in the desert of Niger. Oumou Sy
was awarded the Principal 1998 Prince Claus Award
for her major contribution to African fashion
design and to the setting up of a local, national and
international infrastructure for African fashion.
56
Autodidacte, Oumou Sy est installée à Dakar. Elle
enseigne à l’École des beaux-arts et aux ‘Ateliers de
stylisme et de formation aux arts et techniques
traditionnelles et modernes du costume et de la
parure en Afrique et en Occident’, qu’elle a fondés
elle-même. Oumou Sy a créé des costumes pour
des films et des spectacles africains et étrangers. En
1993, elle gagne le prix des meilleurs costumes au
Festival du film de Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso, et
le prix Professionali cinema de Milan. En 1955, elle
remporte un autre prix pour les plus beaux
costumes au Festival du film de Johannesburg. En
1998, elle fonde le carnaval de Dakar auquel
participent 80 calèches, 250 personnes et trois
camions, tous décorés par Oumou Sy et les
étudiants de son école. Sa collection théâtrale ‘Rois
et reines d’Afrique’, qui mélange l’histoire avec
l’avant-garde, parcourt le monde. En novembre
1998, elle participe au fima, un festival de mode
africaine organisé dans le désert du Niger. Oumou
Sy a reçu le Premier Prix Prince Claus 1998 pour sa
contribution à la mode africaine et à la création
d’une infrastructure locale, nationale et internationale pour la mode africaine.
57
Le 9 décembre 1998, les Prix Prince Claus ont été
décernés pour la deuxième année consécutive.
S . A . R . le
Prince Claus des Pays-Bas a remis le
premier prix au palais royal d’Amsterdam à l’art
de la mode africaine, représenté par les stylistes
africains Oumou Sy,Alphadi et Tetteh Adzedu.
En outre, les ambassadeurs des Pays-Bas en poste
dans des pays d’Afrique, d’Asie et d’Amérique
ont remis sur place treize prix à des artistes et
à des intellectuels de ces pays.
Les Prix Prince Claus 1998: Culture,
humanisme et créativité
Marlous Willemsen,
chargée de la stratégie à la Fondation
Prince Claus
‘Les civilisations vivent ou périssent du fait de leur
aptitude ou de leur incapacité à surmonter la
certitude de la mort grâce à la continuité de la vie,
transmise de génération en génération et de
personne à personne par le biais du processus que
nous appelons ‘culture’ et de l’humanisme et de la
créativité, puisque c’est par ces termes que nous
désignons l’action concrète de poursuivre la vie audelà de la mort et de vivre, dans le présent, à la fois
dans le passé que nous nous rappelons et dans le
futur que nous souhaitons.
Quand nous nous précipitons, aveuglément parfois, dans un nouveau siècle ou un nouveau millénaire, gardons à l’esprit que l’avenir a un passé,
que nous ne pouvons pas avoir un avenir vivant avec
un passé mort et que le passé, en particulier dans
les moments de grande exubérance, contient de
nombreuses leçons qui nous enseignent à tempérer notre confiance et à tenir compte de la dimension tragique de l’humanité et de son histoire.
C’est pourquoi je me propose de centrer mes
propos aujourd’hui sur deux concepts jumeaux:
l’humanisme et la créativité, la main droite et la
main gauche de la culture, et de me fonder sur ces
concepts pour transcender les différences et tisser
une tapisserie mondiale.’ 1
Ainsi s’exprimait l’écrivain mexicain Carlos Fuentes
le 9 décembre 1998 dans le palais royal d’Amsterdam. Sa conférence, intitulée ‘L’humanisme critique dans un monde multiculturel’, a ouvert la
58
1.
Carlos Fuentes;
‘Critical humanism in
a multicultural world’,
dans: The 1998 Prince
Claus Awards, Fondation Prince Claus, La
Haye, p. 12. Cette publication est présentée
à la p. 72 de ce bulletin.
2.
Bogolan: ‘tissu en
boue’ malien; coton
épais aux dessins géométriques, obtenus
avec des teintures à
base de boue;
Kenté: cotons ou soies
tissés à la main; fabriqués par les communautés ashanti pour les
vêtements de cérémonie
3.
Traoré, Aminata
Dramane; ‘L’art de la
mode africaine,
L’écriture de l’histoire
contemporaine de
l’Afrique et du monde’,
dans: The 1998 Prince
Claus Awards, p. 42,
43, 44.
cérémonie des Prix Prince Claus 1998 qui se caractérisent par la relation triangulaire liant la culture,
l’humanisme et la créativité, présentée par Fuentes.
Les Prix Prince Claus distinguent des artistes et des
intellectuels qui, par leurs travaux, contribuent au
développement de la culture et de la société dans
laquelle ils jouent un rôle. La grande qualité des
travaux intellectuels et artistiques constitue une
condition sine qua non à l’obtention d’un prix; les
impacts positifs des analyses, commentaires et
initiatives des artistes et intellectuels déterminent
le choix des lauréats.
Le premier prix, d’un montant de 100 000 dollars
américains, a été décerné à l’art de la création de
mode en Afrique, cette ‘écriture de l’histoire de
l’Afrique et du monde’, pour reprendre les mots
d’Aminata Dramane Traoré, ministre de la culture
de la République du Mali. La célébration de l’Afrique à travers la mode et les textiles ‘privilégie
l’Afrique des talents, des savoirs et des savoir-faire –
ancestraux et nouveaux – qui s’entrelacent pour
donner forme, couleur et vie à l’espérance… La mutation qui s’est amorcée à travers la mode a aboli la
plupart des frontières. Les caractéristiques vestimentaires des ethnies et des aires culturelles
changent, s’interpénètrent et débouchent sur une
nouvelle esthétique que les Africains revendiquent
ensemble et parviennent à partager avec le reste de
la planète. Le bogolan et le kenté2 sont portés
partout en Afrique et dans le monde entier. Une
nouvelle génération de créateurs – des tailleurs aux
stylistes de renom – a en même temps émergé. Elle
ne se contente pas de reproduire les modèles
anciens ou de reproduire ceux des revues de mode
importées. Elle se les approprie tout en les réinterprétant et émerge avec des produits nouveaux qui
nous sont pourtant familiers. Tout en procédant à ce
travail de métissage culturel qui procède de la quête
d’une identité africaine collective, les créateurs
africains recherchent avec frénésie les nuances, la
touche qui les distingueront les uns des autres.’3
L’art de la mode africaine honorée par la Fondation
Prince Claus était représenté par les créateurs de
mode Oumou Sy (Dakar, Sénégal), Alphadi
(Niamey, Niger) et Tetteh Adzedu (Accra, Ghana).
Les trois créateurs se partagent le premier prix qui
leur a été remis par s.a.r. le Prince Claus , Président
d’honneur de la Fondation. Celui-ci a inscrit leur
contribution à la diversité et à la force de leur
culture dans le ‘grand problème de la vie culturelle
en Afrique’, à savoir que ‘de plus en plus d’artistes
quittent le continent en vue d’obtenir de meilleures
situations et plus d’attention ailleurs, entre autres
en Europe et en Amérique. Alphadi, Oumou Sy et
Tetteh Adzedu ont cependant choisi de rester en
Afrique et, de là, de partir à la conquête du monde.
Grâce à eux, la mode devient aussi un facteur
économique en Afrique. Ils stimulent l’industrie
textile locale avec ses milliers de travailleurs manuels
qui tissent, peignent, cousent et brodent. Il s’agit
d’une impulsion vitale quand l’industrie locale
menace d’être reprise par l’importation concurrente
moins chère.’4
Tout de suite après la remise du premier prix, neuf
stylistes africains, travaillant sur le continent africain et dans la diaspora, ont montré le potentiel
créatif de la mode africaine d’aujourd’hui. Le défilé
de mode présenté dans la Salle des citadins du
Palais royal d’Amsterdam a révélé une couture
allant du minimalisme abstrait à l’ampleur théâtrale, de la création de bijoux au design capillaire, de
la robe du soir à la tenue ‘streetwear’.5
Outre le premier prix, treize prix d’un montant de
20000 dollars américains ont également été attribués. Ils ont été rendus publics dans le Palais royal
d’Amsterdam, mais remis dans les pays où les
lauréats habitent, par les ambassadeurs néerlandais
en poste dans ces pays. Les lauréats ‘sont tous des
artistes et des intellectuels possédant une extraordinaire créativité et dotés d’un esprit d’innovation. Ils promeuvent des éléments culturels qui
reçoivent peu d’attention, ils valorisent des choses
qui sont rarement appréciées par d’autres,
établissent des liaisons qui n’ont jamais été soupçonnées auparavant, préservent ce qui est pratiquement perdu et expriment ce qui, autrement,
n’aurait jamais été dit. Ils méritent notre plus haute
estime pour leur engagement et pour les changements positifs qu’ils ont apportés à leur milieu. Ils
ont fait preuve de courage et de persévérance.’6
La contribution des lauréats à la pluralité culturelle,
à la diversité sociale et à l’intégrité humaine est
présentée par leurs collègues et amis qui ont rédigé
les éloges publiés dans le livre sur les Prix Prince
Claus 1998. Dans son éloge, l’analyste culturel Néstor
García Canclini présente Carlos Monsiváis, critique
culturel mexicain et lauréat du Prix Prince Claus,
comme ‘ce chroniqueur des actes civiques, des
enthousiasmes médiatiques, des rites locaux et des
arts ‘mineurs’. … Ses écrits relatent – avec un point de
p r i n c e
M
C
M
c l a u s
X C
aw a rd s
V
I
I
I
Le lauréat Baaba Maal
s’adresse à la presse
sénégalaise, le 9
décembre 1998, Dakar
4.
Voir l’éloge adressée
par le Prince Claus aux
lauréats du premier
prix, dans: idem, p. 9
5.
Voir la présentation du
défilé aux p. 39-57 de
ce bulletin.
6.
Voir le rapport du
comité des Prix Prince
Claus 1998, dans: The
1998 Prince Claus
Awards, p. 25
7.
García Canclini,
Néstor; ‘Carlos
Monsiváis, A
representative f0r
citizens in progress’,
dans: idem, p. 77
9.
Carlos Fuentes, dans:
idem, p. 18
vue individuel et original – la corruption politique,
l’ambivalence d’une rencontre nationale de la société
civile financée par le néozapatisme au Chiapas, la
ferveur du football et les rituels des jeunes à un
concert de rock. Il démêle les motifs pour lesquels
la hiérarchie catholique s’oppose aux campagnes de
prévention contre le sida et il dénonce les manifestations d’homophobie, de chauvinisme masculin
et de toute autre forme de discrimination.’ 7
Les questions culturelles et sociales abordées par les
autres lauréats sont tout aussi diverses. La critique
littéraire Evelyne Accad souligne dans son article
publié dans le livre sur les prix l’engagement de
l’écrivaine et lauréate libanaise Nazek Saba Yared en
faveur de la reconquête des valeurs culturelles et d’un
climat artistique pour les générations d’après la guerre
civile. La critique de films Peggy Chiao explique comment le réalisateur chinois Tian Zhuang Zhuang a
ouvert la voie à l’innovation cinématographique et aux
jeunes réalisateurs chinois. Et le musicologue Kwabena
Nketia qualifie le chanteur pop sénégalais Baaba Maal,
également lauréat, de griot moderne à mission sociale.
Les lauréats sont attentifs aux évolutions qui se
produisent en dehors des chemins battus. Nombre
d’entre eux s’orientent vers des aspects de la culture
locale qu’ils inscrivent dans un contexte international.
Gulammohammed Sheikh, artiste et critique d’art,
raconte comment le lauréat Jyotindra Jain, historien d’art
indien, place les ‘petites traditions’ de l’Inde rurale, tribale
et des villes au même niveau que les traditions historiques classiques et les traditions urbaines modernes.
Journaliste culturel, Ivor Powell dit des travaux de David
Koloane, artiste sud-africain, qu’ils sont ‘au-delà des
townships’ et le critique d’art Apinan Poshyananda
59
qualifie l’artiste indonésien Heri Dono de ‘moncal’: ni
mondial ni local, mais les deux à la fois.
Carlos Fuentes affirmait dans sa conférence que
‘l’esprit créatif devient une force qui permet de
comprendre le monde d’aujourd’hui, quand il découvre que nous ne pouvons reconnaître notre propre
humanité qu’après l’avoir reconnue dans les autres.
L’humanisme aujourd’hui exige une reconnaissance
de l’humanité des autres, des cultures dont ils sont
porteurs. Et la créativité implique de faire exister de
nouveaux mondes, souvent oubliés, souvent évités,
mais qui sont et qui devront devenir partie intégrante
de nos émotions, de notre amour et de la valeur que
nous accordons à la continuité de la vie sur cette
terre.’ 8
Supprimer les frontières – entre tradition et modernité,
entre culture populaire et élitiste, entre culture locale
et internationale, entre artistes, intellectuels et société
– voilà ce qui tient à cœur aux lauréats des Prix Prince
Claus 1998: Rakhshan Bani-Etemad, Heri Dono, Ticio
Escobar, Jyotindra Jain, Jean-Baptiste Kiéthéga, David
Koloane, Baaba Maal, Carlos Monsiváis, Redza
Piyadasa, Rogelio Salmona, Kumar Shahani, Nazek
Saba Yared, Tian Zhuang Zhuang, Tetteh Adzedu,
Alphadi et Oumou Sy.
Presenting memories of cultural diversity in the Beirut of her youth,
Les lauréats de l’année 1998:
L’art de la mode africaine, représentée par
Mai Ghoussoub pleads for a multiple interpretation of culture and
Alphadi (Niger),
human beings. She is the author of ‘Leaving Beirut,Women and the
Oumou Sy (Sénégal) et
Tetteh Adzedu (Ghana);
Wars Within’ and a member of the 1999 Prince Claus Awards
Rakhshan Bani-Etemad (Iran)
Committee.
Heri Dono (Indonésie)
Ticio Escobar (Paraguay)
Jyotindra Jain (Inde)
Mai Ghoussoub
‘La Culture’:The Problems of the Definite Article
Jean-Baptiste Kiéthéga (Burkina Faso)
David Koloane (Afrique du Sud)
1.
Baaba Maal (Sénégal)
‘Culture is what remains
Carlos Monsiváis (Mexique)
when everything is
Redza Piyadasa (Malaisie)
forgotten. Comment!’
Rogelio Salmona (Colombie)
2.
Kumar Shahani (Inde)
‘Culture is the ultimate
Nazek Saba-Yared (Liban)
aim, the only virtue worthy
Tian Zhuang Zhuang (Chine)
of this name.’
Merci aux ambassadeurs néerlandais:
G. Bos en Colombie
M. Damme en Iran
H. Froger en Afrique du Sud
Baron S. van Heemstra en Indonésie
A. Heldring au Ghana
A. Hennekens au Burkina Faso et au Niger
‘La culture est ce qui reste quand on a tout oublié. Commentez!’1 It was with an air of great
solemnity and a highly theatrical pose that our teacher declaimed his question. The
classroom was silent and I was mesmerised. Yes, I thought. Culture is not a mere
accumulation of knowledge, it is not about memorising dates and names. ‘La culture’, I
wrote, ‘est le but ultime, la seule vertue digne de ce nom.’2 I was an adolescent then. I adored
my young French teacher and I believed in every word he uttered.
It took me a long time to realise that my teacher and his beliefs were not perfect. Many
years went by before I could tell that something was missing or was possibly ‘de trop’ in my
teacher’s definition of culture and its redeeming values.
I made many mistakes, witnessed many conflicts and missed more than one beautiful
opportunity in life before it occurred to me that the problem was not in the word culture
itself but in the definite article that preceded it. The word culture and the definite article – ‘la’
in the context of my Lebanese French lycée – do not mix well. The word culture, in the way I
hear it now, in the way I dream of it today, is allergic to the exclusive resonance of the article.
It loathes the presumptuous attempt at reducing it to the singular, the cloistered selfconfident connotation.
P. Koch en Inde
P. Lagendijk au Mexique
R. Mollinger au Liban
A. Oostra en Chine
C. van Tooren en Malaisie
J. Wolfs au Sénégal
J. Zandvliet en Uruguay et au Paraguay
Merci aux hôtels d’Amsterdam:
Grand Hotel Krasnapolsky
Hotel de l’Europe
Golden Tulip Barbizon Centre
Amstel / Intercontinental
Hotel Okura
Golden Tulip Barbizon Palace
Crowne Plaza Amsterdam City Centre
Amsterdam Marriott Hotel
Hotel Pulitzer
Renaissance Amsterdam Hotel
The Grand Amsterdam Hotel
60
My teacher meant well, and he taught me a lot. I wanted to please him and be a good student.
That is maybe why I transgressed his teaching and made space in my satchel for some other
wonders (other than French) of human creativity. Inside my school bag there were copies of
beautiful Arabic poems complaining about the crusaders’ attacks on ‘our Arab ancestors’ and
great epic stories narrating the heroic ‘victories we achieved over the uncivilised hordes that
came from the north’. These poems read from right to left. And when I retrieved from the
same satchel the books that read in the other direction, the narration came with an opposite
interpretation of history as well.
Reading from left to right, I saw the crusaders as heroes and saints, chivalrous men doing a
virtuous job. But my Arabic teacher saw things differently, during the right to left reading
lessons: he called the men my French teacher described as heroes ‘cruel colonialists,
blasphemous thieves’. Reading in both directions, inviting literature that often told opposite
truths, should have warned me that culture does not speak one language. The French
textbooks introduced us to the ‘saintly’ king Louis ix, whose visual representation charmed
us with its bright blue background and its sparkling golden frames. Arabic lessons spoke the
language of national Liberation and promised to build a brighter and undoubtedly more
colourful future. These teachings, originating in what is miserably called today a ‘clash of
cultures’, may have seemed a bit confusing for the little girl I was. But fortunately, instead of
turning us, my classmates and me, into schizophrenics or angry adolescents, these
contradictions stamped our temperament with the spirit of dissent and enhanced our
curiosity. We always listened to words with an alert ear, trying to detect the motivation of
the voice that carried them. We learned to adjust our optical nerve in order to better capture
the images of difference. We had to learn about relativism the hard way. Please do not
61
Mai Ghoussoub and Soheil
Sleiman
Displaces, 1997
installation
courtesy of the artists
misunderstand me. I still believe in universal values, but my very French education could
have made some space for the particularities of ‘the other’. A trace of ‘alterity’ could act like
‘un nuage de lait’ in tea, could soften it without endangering its vital role.
Looking at words and illustrations from opposite angles, listening to conflicting
narratives, made it easy for us to abandon the iconic representations of Louis ix and his
exquisite chapel for the weeping woman of Picasso. We had explored the art of Arab
calligraphy and the geometric meaning of arabesques before we were able to return to visual
representations from the European Middle Ages and appreciate them. Thanks to the
opposite promoters of ‘La Culture’, their culture, we took some precautions: we contemplated paintings and searched for meanings beyond their frames. We walked around
sculptures placing our minds and bodies at various distances from their surfaces and their
historical context. Since cinema was still a treat, we never cared for the labels high and low as
far as the stage or the screen were concerned. We were mainly eager to see all that was being
performed in the historic town of Baalbeck during the festival season. Baalbeck’s festival was
our palpable link with the rest of the world.
This is how we became addicted to chasing radio stations that asserted opposite views and
soon we abandoned the news broadcasts to listen to a wide range of music transmitted by the
little portable object. We heard ‘foreign’ music that ended up sounding very familiar to our
ears, becoming immensely enjoyable.
Our imagination travelled with musical notes, accompanying them across various
continents and longing to understand their words. In those days, this was the best we could
do before the label ‘World Music’ proudly appeared on the shelves of record shops.
A few days ago, I heard Mohammad’s younger daughter asking her English mother why
her father’s books read in the wrong direction. The mother tried her best to explain that this
is another – different, optional, contrasting – direction and that there was no right and wrong
in this case. The child looked perplexed. She seemed to prefer to stick to the reassuring word
wrong. Observing the child’s puzzled expression, I felt an urge to assure her that she was
lucky to encounter these confusing realities now, that some people write from top to bottom
62
3.
Merali, Shaheen; Insert,
Home, Delete, End, i.c.a.
talk, London, January 1999
as well and that thanks to the fact that her parents’ books read in opposite directions, she
already has a plus and that she looks very attractive.
I will always be grateful to my city of origin. Before it turned nostalgic every time its
glorious days were mentioned, Beirut cared very little about the need to assert that one
colour is truer than the other, or that the motion of the eyes over a paper ought to travel in
one single direction. Before the war, the arts in my city were not obsessed with the
nationality of their inspiration or the correctness of their influence. Local galleries exhibited
abstract expressionism as well as Oriental arabesques and realistic landscapes. Modernism
was celebrated, tradition never totally forgotten. Sober respect for minimalism never
stopped any poster painters from adding more glitter to the Egyptian and Indian film stars,
nor did it inhibit their tendency to give more authority to the kung fu fighters, enabling
them to better dominate the avenues leading to the film theatres.
Beirut was more authentically post-modern than it was ever modern. The city was craving
to be part of a global village before globalism came into existence. And the definite article ‘la’
preceding the word ‘culture’ would only have sounded ridiculous in the Beirut before the
civil war. Maybe this is how I wish things were and how my imagination remembers them.
After all, how much can our memory be trusted when it recalls the ‘homeland’ we have left
behind? The artist and curator Shahin Merali has beautifully expressed the cultural meaning
of home for emigrants like us, living in London, a multicultural city par excellence: ‘home is
no longer a place where we live or work, home is now a spectrum of our histories and
imagination.’3
A few pures et dures complained about Beirut’s conflicting juxtapositions, ‘the pernicious
closeness of its high arts and its kitschy entertainment’. I am sure that the young man who
insulted me calling, me ‘a noxious cosmopolitan’, must have been among those few. I have a
feeling that this young man was unhappy to see the end of the war. I can visualise him
insulting, at this very moment, a dj who is broadcasting inauthentic music, the sounds of
‘alien cultures’ that our young people, along with the young people of all continents, are
happy to hum.
Now I know that before the term multiculturalism was invented, the meeting of different
cultures was the most wonderful thing about this city that is still struggling to stand on its
own feet. Its steel and glass modernist skyscrapers never threatened the smaller decorative
Sicilian-like buildings; nor did the Ottoman arcades lose any of their monumentality next to
those majestic symbols of industrial triumph, housing the banks and financial transactions
of the Middle East. Every immigrant, every refugee who found a home in Lebanon gave the
street of Beirut a new accent, a great poet, a gifted musician. These coexisting cultures, with
their similarities and differences, could have been the greatest lesson of tolerance for us. It
was only when those who despised the arcades insisted that high-rises should be erected
everywhere as they are the only true culture – that of the present – and those who did not like
shapes in steel and glass asserted that the culture of tradition should be the only one allowed,
that the meeting became a clash and that the tolerant alternative was abandoned. I am
obviously speaking in metaphors; I can indulge in my anger and direct it unashamedly at this
painful use of the definite article.
‘La’: the. But these two letters cannot be made responsible for the deaths of tens of thousands
people. Let us forget about this bloody definite article and speak of the word culture itself. I
do not know if the words culture and value should be totally separated. The arguments
concerning the obligations of the arts, their responsibilities and their right to be selfish will
never be settled. But if my first lesson about the meaning of culture goes back to the young
French teacher, allow me to tell you about a new lesson that I learned recently from another
63
4.
Frenchman. This man was not standing on a school platform, nor was he declaiming with an
air of great solemnity; he was speaking in front of a tv camera, telling us about the long days See: Hostage, 3-part tv
spent in solitary confinement after he was kidnapped and held hostage in some damp series, bbc, 1999
basement, in Beirut. Jean-Paul Kaufman told a story that ought to be printed in every art
book and screamed in the face of every cynic in the cultural milieu. 4
How do you survive for months on end when you are chained to the floor, in a dark narrow
space with no books, no sounds and nothing whatsoever to do? You can dream and imagine
all these missing companions. But what if your jailers throw inside your cell some factorymade cheese to feed you and this cheese is contained in a round packet? You eat the content
and you are left with the empty circular box. J-P. Kaufman ate the cheese wrapped inside the
kiri box and because he is human he needs images and tenderness in order to survive, as
much as his body needs food. He looked at the empty packet and noticed the design that an
unknown illustrator, an unnamed artist had painted to decorate and promote the product. A
simple image of a cow against a green background. A brown cow to remind us of fresh milk
and a strong green to represent grass. These ‘naive’ images of a painter who we would hardly
call an artist today uncovered a vast bright world hidden behind the unreachable spirit of the
prisoner and inside his tortured body. These lines and colours took him to the countryside,
into the fields where he played as a child, carried him through the vineyards and delighted
his nostrils with the aroma of vintage wine. Kaufman’s mind travelled to warm lands and
welcomed him with smiling harvests. For a while, for a tiny precious moment, the mind
lived in an imagined, desired humanity, while the pain from the chains was relegated to the
reality of the dark cell.
Life is full of irony. While Kaufman was suffocating in the misery of his cell, Lebanese artists
were painting flowers and exhibiting colourful abstract works. They were rejecting the ugly
impositions of war by creating their own world. Many people visited the galleries in Beirut
despite the danger of bomb explosions and hazardous bullets. But maybe there is no irony in
the matter; maybe this is exactly how we all function, in the same way, as cultural beings. J-P.
Kaufman and the Lebanese artists were trying to survive against all odds. Not everybody
responds to bloodshed and massacres in the same manner as Goya did. Goya depicted the
horror of executions and the masquerade of war by painting ‘as though he was standing in
the firing line’. Other artists replace the tragic facts with imagined realities. I would like to
add one more thought in homage to the unknown artist who had drawn the cow and the
green fields. Thanks to the painful lesson I learned from J-P. Kaufman, I will be less confident
in the future to affirm that a work of art is ‘too easy’, that it is to be labelled ‘high’ or ‘low’ or
that it is obsolete. Cultures are produced by us. Our societies are not the only multiple
human entities. Each one of us is multiple as well.
64
a
+
p
Activities supported by the
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Activités soutenues par la
Fondation Prince Claus
Actividades patrocinadas por la
Fundación Príncipe Claus
Recent publications
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65
65
Activities supported by the
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Activités soutenues par la
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Actividades patrocinadas por la
a
viento) y cantos religiosos. Este género era,
después de la Segunda Guerra Mundial, la música
más popular en Ghana y Nigeria.
La idea de Dexter Johnson era que también en Senegal había sitio para una orquesta ‘highlife’. Por
desgracia el ritmo era totalmente desconocido y
por ello la gente no podía bailar. Se encontró la
The described
solución al optar por una forma musical cubana
events have taken más tradicional. La música cubana tiene raíces tanplace or will take
to africanas como españolas gracias a la llegada de
place with the
los esclavos negros a principios del siglo xvi,
support of the
cuando Cuba era una colonia española. Desde
Prince Claus Fund. aquel entonces, la población española se fue
mezclando con los nuevos habitantes africanos y
poco a poco surgió una forma musical nacional. A
partir de los años veinte, esta música se hizo muy
popular, sobre todo en los Estados Unidos, y se
grabaron discos que también se vendían en África.
Desde antes de la independencia de los países
africanos, esta música era apreciada por las clases
altas que llenaban las salas de baile.
Dexter Johnson & Super Star de Dakar:
Dexter se rodeó en Dakar de músicos de talento y
Caliente, amplio y un poco anticuado
gracias a Ibra Kasse, propietario del Miami NightSenegal, 1998
club y de los instrumentos, se pudieron hacer acIntroducido por Ted Jaspers, Dakar Sound, Países
tuaciones. Cantantes como Laba Sosseh, Dion y
Bajos, iniciador del proyecto
Raymond hicieron nuevas grabaciones de los éxitos
Con el apoyo de la Fundación Príncipe Claus, Dakar
cubanos. Cambiaron el título de ‘Lamento cubano’
Sound ha lanzado este cd con la música del saxopor ‘Cuba’. Esta canción, compuesta en los años
fonista senegalés Dexter Johnson (vol. I de la serie El CD de Dexter
veinte por Elisea Grenet, fue grabada en 1932 en
Sangomar). Dexter Johnson fue un músico nige- Johnson & Super Star
Nueva York por el cuarteto de Antonio Machín.
riano que gracias a su enorme éxito en Dakar, Sene- de Dakar, vol. 1 serie
Treinta años más tarde fue cantada con entusiasmo
Sangomar
gal, a principios de los años sesenta ejerció una gran cortesía de CNR Music por Laba Sosseh.
influencia en la escena musical local, no sólo por su Nederland BV
Las ‘soirées’ empezaban a las diez y duraban hasta
manera de tocar el instrumento, sino también por
las cinco de la mañana siguiente. Si Dexter tocaba
la organización de su orquesta.
una introducción, el público sabía que dentro de
En los años cincuenta, la música de África occidencinco minutos se podría bailar. Las ideas de Ibra
tal francesa era influenciada por la morna y el bolero
Kasse sobre la manera de dirigir una orquesta
procedentes de las Antillas, y el tango y el cha-chachocaban con las de Dexter Johnson que en 1964
cha, populares en Francia, que con su régimen
pasó a otro club y formó la orquesta Super Star.
administrativo central, se ocupó de que existiera
Otra orquesta bajo la dirección de Pape Seck
una separación entre su propia cultura y la africana.
continuó en el Miami Nightclub. También Laba
En las colonias inglesas había más comprensión por
Sosseh empezó su propia orquesta, la Vedettes
las manifestaciones culturales africanas y esto
Band con Issa Cissokko, alumno de Dexter, como
condujo a más intercambios musicales. Por
director. Todo ello habrá exigido el máximo del
ejemplo, las orquestas de las colonias inglesas
talento organizatorio de Dexter para mantener a su
tocaban sobre todo calipsos con comentarios sobre
orquesta a un alto nivel. Gracias a su fuerte
la situación de la vida propia y música ‘highlife’ en
personalidad, los músicos le respetaban y también
los textos. Esta última forma musical es una fusión
respetaban el contrato que tenían con él como
de los ritmos tradicionales africanos con canciones
miembros de la orquesta.
marineras (música militar para instrumentos de
En la universidad de Dakar se organizaban noches
66
de jazz, y naturalmente se pidió la participación de
Dexter. Muy pronto se convirtió en el líder de estas
sesiones y dejaba que músicos jóvenes tocaran juntos con músicos experimentados, sin que perdieran
la confianza en sí mismos.
Se desconoce la razón por la que Dexter se marchó
a Costa de Marfil a finales de los años sesenta, pero
Costa de Marfil era más próspera que Senegal y
ofrecía en todo caso más posibilidades para un
artista. Bajo contrato del sello discográfico Disco
Stock, trabajó, entre otros, con la Railband de Mali y
grabó junto con el violinista Alfredo de la Fe el disco
‘Estrellas Africanas’. Por la noche tocaba en el hotel
de lujo Hotel du Golfe. Con Manu Dibango fundó la
orquesta de radio y televisión para la emisora
marfilense. Su último viaje fue a América, donde
participó en las grabaciones con la orquesta de
Monte Adentro, bajo la dirección de Juan Carlos
Torres. Fue su última proeza.
Dexter volvió a Costa de Marfil donde se puso enfermo. Cansancio, según se dijo. Murió en 1977. Este
monumento de la música africana fue enterrado en
Abidjan, dejando entristecidos a sus admiradores,
entre los se encontraban ministros y otros notables, que en su juventud habían bailado al ritmo de
su música.
El segundo cd de Dexter Johnson se lanzará más
adelante en este año, con la ayuda de African Popular Music de Günter Gretz.
Traducción: Gloria Versluis, Oosterhout
Para más información: Dakar Sound, Althinghstraat 13,
9724 lt Groningen, Países Bajos, www.dakarsound.nl.
Para encargar el cd: cnr Music Nederland, Brinklaan 109,
1404 ga Bussum, Países Bajos, fax: +31-35-6929999
Qur’anic Studies and the Modern Muslim World
Netherlands, 10 to 12 June 1998
The Prince Claus Fund paid the travelling expenses
of Mohamad Nur Kholis Setiawan of the Institute of
Islamic Studies in Yogyakarta, Indonesia, for his
attendance at the symposium ‘Qur’anic Studies at
the Eve of the 21st Century’, that was held at Leiden
University.
‘Qur’anic studies is a multidisciplinary field of science. Its development is necessarily governed by the
progress achieved in social sciences in general and
in linguistics, semantics and hermeneutics in particular. The 20th century witnessed the emergence
of almost a new world order which affected all fields
of knowledge. As for the Muslim world, it has been
so far a century of external as well as internal
conflict. The modern confrontation with Europe,
starting at the end of the 18th century, created an
awareness of an independent identity and Islam
emerged as a protective weapon against European
imperialism and cultural westernisation.
This confrontation surely affected Qur’anic studies
both in the East and West in different ways. The
awareness of the Muslim identity caused some
internal political and cultural conflict between
Islamism and Modernism, which increased after
achieving political independence. This conflict
activated the fever of new interpretations and
counter-interpretations of the Qur’an. Modern
trends of social sciences, no matter how different
they are, are implicitly or explicitly employed in
these interpretations.’ (From the symposium programme)
The purpose of the symposium was twofold: to
investigate the actual development which has
taken place in the field of Qur’anic studies in East
and West during the 20th century and to anticipate
the possibilities of further development in the next
century. The programme booklet stated that the
assumption underlying the idea of the symposium
was that the long history and well established tradition of Qur’anic studies in Islamic culture have
been greatly influenced by modern political and
cultural changes in the Muslim world.
The symposium was organised by Nasr Hamid Abu
Zayd, Professor of Islamic Studies at Cairo University and Visiting Professor at Leiden University.
Among the participants, in addition to Abu Zayd,
were Hassan Hanafi and Hussayn Nassar from Cairo
University, Egypt; Mohammad Shahrour from
Damascus University, Syria; Abdulkader I. Tayob
from the University of Cape Town, South Africa; M.
Shabstari form the House of Knowledge in Tehran,
Iran; Mohammed Mahmoud from Tufts University,
usa; Amin Abdullah from the Institute of Islamic
Studies in Yogyakarta, Indonesia, and many others.
Mohamad Nur Kholis Setiawan spoke on ‘The
Literary Interpretation of the Qur’an, A Study of
Amin Al-Khuli’s Thought’, surveying the literary
exegesis of the Qur’an as proposed by this Egyptian
scholar of modern times (1895-1966). The proceedings of the conference will be published.
Further information from: cnws, Leiden University,
po Box 9515, 2300 ra Leiden, Netherlands
67
International Art Workshop
Namibia, 8 to 22 August 1998
In August 1998 Triangle Arts Trust, Johannesburg/
London, organised the Tulipamwe International
Arts Workshop in Namibia. Twenty-five artists
from eleven different countries participated in this
hands-on workshop ranging from sculptors and
painters to print-makers and mixed-medium artists.
The Prince Claus Fund supported the participation
of Susan Dayal, an artist from Trinidad, as it was
seen as an excellent opportunity for her to build
new links between artists from Trinidad, Namibia
and other African and Asian countries taking part
in the workshop. Among those were attending
Machate Dias and Sario Maritz from Namibia and
Lilian Nabulime from Uganda. The Triangle Arts
Trust encourages excellence in the visual arts by
promoting the exchange of ideas and practice.
Susan Dayal (1968,
Trinidad)
Mask for Jonathan,
1997
wire and feathers
17,5 x 8,75 x 6,55 cm
Further information from: Triangle Arts Trust,
The Oval, 155 Vauxhall Street, London sei i 5rh,uk,
fax: +44-171-5820159, e-mail: [email protected]
Colloquia: La importancia de hablar, dialogar,
‘colloquiar’
Guatemala, 1999
Introducido por Rossina Cazali, co-fundadora de
Colloquia y curadora
Uno de los principales motivos que impulsaron a la
formación de Colloquia fue la necesidad universal
de intercambiar ideas a través del diálogo y el arte,
precisamente en un país como Guatemala, donde
68
tal parámetro parece no tener fundamento. Por
muchos años la voluntad de diálogo se vio afectada
y la cultura del silencio fuela consecuencia lógica de
una guerra fría que duró más de tres décadas y
finalizó con la firma de la paz en 1997. Aún después
de este importante paso los grandes problemas sociales y políticos, más bien, parecen acrecentarse. El
efecto que tienen sobre todo orden educativo es
apremiante, y el interés y respeto por las manifestaciones culturales no tienen prioridad ante la urgencia de resolver problemas comunes de sobrevivencia y una creciente ola de delicuencia post bélica.
Frente a este panorama, los integrantes del grupo
Colloquia han cuestionado una y otra vez el papel
del arte en una sociedad carente de estructuras
gubernamentales que lo soporten. La ausencia de
espacios para el arte y el diálogo no significa que no
haya artistas o que no se necesite dialogar sobre el
arte. Probablemente una de las respuestas más
importantes es la plena toma de conciencia de la
importancia de sumarse al proceso de transición que
inicia el país y que la experiencia supone un momento de regeneración invaluable e irrepetible.
Es por ello que durante 1999 Colloquia ha trazado un
interesante programa de actividades alternativas
donde se da énfasis a la educación a través del arte y a
talleres de encuentro entre artistas y el público en
general. No cabe duda que el aporte de esta
estrategia es abrir un espacio clave para el intercambio y el aprendizaje. Recientemente el taller ‘La
fotografía como extensión del pensamiento’ impartido por el artista guatemalteco Luis González
Palma, despertó tal interés que no se limitó a hablar
sobre fotografía. Originalmente suponía reflexionar a
partir de ésta pero la presencia de artistas de distintos
medios, tradicionales y contemporáneos, puso en
evidencia un importante nivel de expectativas intelectuales y de diálogo en torno al arte.
También se han planificado los llamados ‘Talleres
de experiencias’, en que se invita a un artista para
desarrollar una actividad o un proyecto específico,
de acuerdo a sus intereses artísticos. Este es más un
laboratorio de experiencias donde, a través del proceso de trabajo, se establece una retroalimentación
entre el artista con otros artistas y el mismo contexto en que se desarrolle. Por ejemplo, el primer taller
ha invitado a Priscilla Monge, una artista costarricense de las últimas tendencias del arte conceptual,
quien ha definido su interés por trabajar en
Guatemala una serie de obras con costureras y bor-
dadoras, dada la innegable tradición textil del país.
Entre los proyectos educacionales se encuentra la
publicación bimensual ‘Espacio Colloquia’, una
revista alrededor de temas específicos e imprescindibles para la comprensión del arte pasado y actual
la belleza, el otro, lo sublime. Esta revista invita a los
lectores a participar a través del envío de comen
tarios o artículos sobre los temas.
Así pues, las actividades de Colloquia buscan dar
énfasis al proceso, más que a los objetos artísticos.
Le interesa más lo que provoca una gota que cae en
el agua que la gota en sí.
Para más información: Colloquia, 5a Avenida 10-22,
Zona 9, Guatemala ca, fax: +502-4783280, e-mail:
[email protected]
Danses africaines traditionnelles et
contemporaines
Sénégal, mars 1999
Priscilla Monge
(1978, Costa Rica)
Pantalones para los
dias de regla, 1996
toallas sanitarias
femeninas
120 X 65 cm
cortesía de TEOR/éTICA
Danseuse, choréographe et professeur de danse
africaine moderne, la Sénégalaise Germaine Acogny a mis sur pied, à Toubab Dialaw, un centre
international pour la formation en danses traditionnelles et contemporaines africaines. Le centre
sera la première maison de la danse africaine consacrée à la formation, à la création, à la recherche et
aux échanges internationaux.
Après un premier stage en 1998 principalement
destiné à des danseurs sénégalais, Germaine Acogny et son mari, de l’association Jant-Bi, ont entre- Germaine Acogny
pris un programme ambitieux, en attendant que le photo: Helmut Vogt
centre soit achevé. Avec une contribution de la
Fondation Prince Claus, cette année, ils ont pu
réunir plus de veingtcinq danseurs de quatorze
pays africains. Des installations provisoires permettent à veingtcinq danseurs africains de bénéficier pendant trois mois d’une formation professionnelle en danses africaines traditionnelles et
contemporaines, en danse contemporaine occidentale, en jeu théâtral et de suivre des ateliers choréographiques. Cette formation offre aux danseurs
la possibilité de se professionnaliser et d’acquérir
un statut social reconnu leur garantissant des
moyens d’existence décents. Ils peuvent ainsi
donner une nouvelle image de ce métier si
fortement lié aux racines de la culture africaine. Ce
cheminement permet également d’élaborer une
danse africaine contemporaine, constituant l’un
des moyens d’accès aux débouchés internationaux
et à des échanges fructueux dans le monde de la
danse. Le stage verra également à la naissance de la
première salle de danse située au bord d’une
lagune dans un paysage magnifique de savane
africaine avec des collines et des baobabs.
Durant le présent stage, la célèbre choréographe
allemande, Susanne Linke, qui a participé au stage
de l’an dernier, est en résidence à Toubab Dialaw
pour créer avec les danseurs du stage de l’année
dernière une chorégraphie, véritable symbiose et
rencontre entre la danse-théâtre allemande et la
danse africaine.
Dans le continent déchiré par la guerre, des jeunes
professionnels venus du Cameroun, de Madagascar, du Mozambique, du Sénégal, du Mali, de la
Namibie, de la République du Congo, de la
République démocratique du Congo, du Burkina
Faso, du Nigeria, de Centrafrique, du Tchad, du
Togo se retrouvent, apprenant ensemble des nouvelles techniques enseignées par des professeurs
de haut niveau et de renommée internationale
venant du Sénégal, du Togo, de France, d’Angleterre et des Etats-Unis. Les danseurs s’apprennent
mutuellement les danses traditionnelles de leur
pays, que Germaine Acogny considère comme la
base indispensable du développement de la danse
africaine contemporaine.
Pour touts renseignements complémentaires:
Jant-Bi, bp 6078, Dakar-Etoile, Sénégal, fax: +2218229095; 24, rue Léonce-Castelbou, 31000 Toulouse,
fax: + 33-561233404
Inauguration d’un nouveau centre d’arts
plastiques: Soleil d’Afrique
Mali, le 6 mars 1999
En janvier 1985, Hama Goro (1963, Dogon, Mali) est
venu effectuer un stage professionnel à l’Académie
nationale des beaux-arts d’Amsterdam. Il était un
des premiers artistes africains, parmi lesquels ont
figuré notamment le Comorien Ali M’roivili, le
Béninois Meshac Gaba et le Sud-Africain Moshekwa Langa, à entreprendre cette démarche. En 1996
Hama Goro a élaboré le projet avec Janwillem
Schrofer, directeur de l’Académie nationale, de
créer un centre au Mali, destiné à accueillir de
jeunes artistes originaires principalement d’Afrique
de l’Ouest. Avec l’aide d’autres artistes, Hama Goro
s’est attelé à la tâche et un nouveau centre d’arts
plastiques a vu le jour. Il comprend un espace
d’exposition pouvant abriter des groupes de travail,
quelques ateliers et des espaces de travail et de
69
L’inauguration de Soleil
d’Afrique. De gauche à
droite: l’artiste Hama
Goro, la ministre de la
culture et du tourisme,
Aminata Dramane
Traoré, l’ambassadeur
des Pays-Bas à Bamako,
Alphons Stoelinga, Janwillem Schrofer, professeur-directeur de
l’Académie nationale
des beaux-arts
rencontre en plein air. La Fondation Prince Claus et
l’ambassade des Pays-Bas à Bamako ont apporté
leur soutien à la réalisation du projet. Le 6 mars
1999, le centre Soleil d’Afrique était inauguré par la
ministre de la culture et du tourisme du Mali,
Aminata Dramane Traoré. Soleil d’Afrique vise à
favoriser le mouvement des idées, dans le cadre de
débats, de rencontres, d’ateliers et de séminaires,
grâce à une collaboration entre artistes, théoriciens
de l’art et autres personnes intéressées par l’art, Soleil d’Afrique
sous forme d’échanges des connaissances, des Bamako, Mali
expériences et des points de vue. Hama Goro
souhaite que Soleil d’Afrique devienne un des
principaux centres d’arts plastiques d’Afrique, car il
est convaincu que le développement du continent,
et du Mali dans le cas présent, passera en grande
partie par la promotion de l’art et de la culture.
Remembering Toba Tek Singh:Video Art in India
Netherlands, 17 to 21 September 1998
India, 5 to 15 March 1999
The Prince Claus Fund supported the Indian artist
Nalina Malani in producing the video installation
‘Remembering Toba Tek Singh’. The work was
presented at the World Wide Video Festival in
Gallery Montevideo in Amsterdam in September
1998. In March 1999 the same work was to be seen at
the Prince of Wales Museum in Bombay, India.
‘Remembering Toba Tek Singh’ analyses the postcolonial period in India and deals with the separation of India and Pakistan. It opens a discussion on
controversial themes from India’s history and
present. The title of the work comes from a short
story by Sadat Hasan Manto, ‘Toba Tek Singh’. It
tells of the exchange of Indian mental patients
decreed by the politicians when India was divided,
meaning that they had to be transported from one
country to another. The patients themselves had no
idea whether they were in Pakistan or India. Hasan
70
L’écrivain algérien Tahir
Ouattar s’adresse à
l’ambassadeur des
Pays-Bas, Gerben Meihuizen, et son épouse,
lors de la mise en service de la nouvelle
presse offset. Parmi les
invités, on voit également l’attaché culturel
de l’ambassade néerlandaise,Willem van
Reenen (troisième à
partir de la gauche au
premier rang) et Zahia
Benarous, secrétaire
d’Etat algérien à la
culture (deuxième à
partir de la droite au
premier rang).
Manto’s story follows a man called Bishan Singh
from the village of Toba Tek Singh, the name he had
been given in the lunatic asylum. During the
changeover, Singh becomes so confused as to the
precise location of his native village that he stands
still on the border between India and Pakistan and
falls down. The story ends: ‘There, on that stretch of
no-man’s-land, lay Toba Tek Singh’, meaning both
the man and the village. Based on real life, this
absurd tale inspired Malani to make her work.
For further reading on Nalini Malani and her work,
see also the articles by Rustom Bharucha and Geeta
Kapur, p. 9 and p. 15.
Further information from: 3/42 Nanik Nivas,
91 Bhulabhai Desai Road, Bombay 400026, India
Al Jahidhiya: Pour la promotion de la culture
de la ‘liberté de pensée et d’opinion’
Algérie, le 5 avril 1999
Al Jahidhiya est une organisation culturelle nongouvernementale fondée en 1989 par un groupe
d’intellectuels afin de promouvoir la culture de la
‘liberté de pensée et d’opinion’. Elle a choisi pour
devise ‘pas de pression sur l’opinion’. L’organisation
a emprunté son nom à un célèbre penseur éclairé
du moyen-âge qui a laissé des écrits sur la
littérature, la théologie, la critique littéraire et la
science. Al Jahidhiya publie trois revues littéraires :
Al Tabyin (rhétorique), Al-Qasida (poème) et AlQissa (roman et histoire) ainsi que des ouvrages de
critique littéraire, des collections de poésie, de
romans et de nouvelles. L’importance des activités
d’une organisation de ce type dans le contexte
politique actuel de l’Algérie est évidente. Le 5 avril
1999, l’ambassadeur des Pays-Bas à Alger a inauguré une nouvelle presse achetée grâce au soutien
de la Fondation Prince Claus. Cette acquisition garantit la continuité en ce qui concerne la publication des revues.
Lectures on Contemporary Art and Culture
Al Jahidhiya, 8, Bd Rédha Houhou, Alger, Algérie,
Nigeria, 1999-2000
fax: +213-2731757, e-mail: [email protected]
The Prince Claus Fund will support an innovative
series of lectures on art and culture, featuring
international art historians, critics, curators and
writers, and organised by the Institute of Visual Art
and Culture (ivac) in Lagos, Nigeria.
The project is the first of its kind on this scale in
Nigeria and will be used as a catalyst for debate after
decades of cultural isolation. It will provide an
insight into the art and culture of other countries
and the curatorial work of individuals across a broad
spectrum of artistic practices and critical perspectives. The project will have a national dimension through collaboration with institutions such as
the University of Nigeria in Nsukka, Ahmadu Bello
University (abu) in Zaria, and the National Museum in Benin. The invited speakers include Okwui
Enwezor (Nigeria/usa), Katy Deepwell (uk),
Hiroko Hagiwara (Japan), Eddie Chambers (uk),
Colin Richards (South Africa) and Gerardo
Mosquera (Cuba). ivac is a non-profit organisation
committed to the advancement and education of
the public in the visual arts. ivac was established in
1998 by gallery owner Sinmi Ogunsanya and
curator Bisi Silva.
ivac has a special concern for local, regional and
national issues and will help to nurture the visual
arts in Nigeria by stimulating public dialogue and
the production of new work and by providing
networking and support opportunities for artists,
art professionals, researchers and art enthusiasts.
30e Festival international de poésie
Pays-Bas, le 12 jusqu’au 18 juin 1999
Cette année se tiendra le trentième Festival international de poésie. Après des débuts modestes
mais inspirés en 1970, le festival est devenu progressivement le principal festival annuel de poésie
en Europe et un lieu de rencontre pour poètes et
amoureux de la poésie du monde entier. Le festival
de cette année porte sur le thème des cultures
insulaires contrastées: le festival présente l’élite des
poètes islandais modernes et des poètes caraïbes
d’aujourd’hui. La région caraïbe a produit de nombreux poètes de renom, dont deux Prix Nobel:
Saint-John Perse en 1960 et Derek Walcott en 1992.
Au fil de son histoire marquée par la colonisation et
l’esclavage, la résistance, la décolonisation et la
diaspora qui en a découlé, la région caraïbe a gardé
une riche diversité de langues: le créole et toutes
ses variantes y côtoient différentes langues
européennes, le français, l’anglais, l’espagnol et le
néerlandais, ainsi que le papiamento et un parler
pidgin. Derek Walcott a décrit le mélange des
influences littéraires venues d’Europe, d’Afrique et
d’Amérique du Nord comme les vestiges du Vieux
Monde rejetés sur les rivages du Nouveau. Le poète
caraïbe est un Robinson Crusoë qui, plutôt que de
se débarrasser des débris, les utilise pour bâtir
quelque chose de nouveau. Il refuse d’être lié par le
passé ou à une croyance occidentale dans le progrès, et il crée au contraire une identité complexe,
fugitive, fruit de ses fantasmes, et une poésie faite
de présences, de lieux dans lesquels les volcans, les
récifs de corail, les ouragans et les plages jouent un
rôle de premier ordre. Trois longs poèmes épiques,
‘Les Indes’ (1955) d’Edouard Glissant de Martinique,
‘Omeros’ (1990) de Derek Walcott de Sainte-Lucie
et ‘Turner’ (1994) de David Dabydeen de Guyane,
ont inscrit ce Nouveau Monde sur la carte poétique
internationale. Grâce au soutien financier de la Fondation Prince Claus, Glissant, Walcott et Dabydeen
seront les hôtes de ce festival annuel, ainsi que trois
autres poètes caraïbes réputés: Kamau Brathwaite,
Lorna Goodison et Olive Senior.
Pour touts renseignements complémentaires: Poetry
International, William Boothlaan 4, 3012 vj Rotterdam,
Pays-Bas, fax: +31-10-2822775
L’ambassadeur des
Pays-Bas en Algérie,
Gerben Meihuizen, et
le secrétaire d’Etat
algérien à la culture,
Zahia Benarous, mettent officiellement en
service la presse offset.
Further information from: ivac, c/o Mydrim Gallery
74b, Norman Williams Street, Ikoyi, Lagos, Nigeria,
fax: +234-1- 2694796, e-mail: [email protected]
The Presentation of the 1999 Prince Claus
Awards / La Présentation des Prix Prince Claus
1999 / La Presentación de los Premios Príncipe
Claus 1999
Royal Palace,Amsterdam, Netherlands; and in
the countries of the laureates
8 December 1999 / le 8 décembre 1999 / el dia 8
de deciembre 1999
For the third time the Prince Claus Awards will be
presented to artists and intellectuals contributing
to cultural development in Africa, Asia, Latin
America and the Caribbean. The principal award
will be presented in Amsterdam; the other laureates will receive their awards in their countries.
71
Recent publications
Publications récentes
Publicaciones recientes
p
The Prince Claus
The Journal also
Fund Journal con-
seeks to draw
privé au domaine public. Parmi les photographes
présentés: Nabil Mahdaoui (1961, Maroc); Themba
Radebe (1969, Afrique du Sud); Philip Kwame
Apagya (1958, Ghana); Sergio Santimano (1956,
Mozambique, Emmanuel Daou (1960, Mali) et
Omar D. (1941, Algérie).
La Fondation Prince Claus a apporté son soutien à la
réalisation de la publication du catalogue des ‘3es
Rencontres de la photographie africaine, Bamako
1998’. Au sujet de cette publication, voir aussi
l’article de Salah Hassan à la page 31 de ce Journal.
tains brief outlines attention to recent
ISBN 2-7427-2119-3, Prix: 90 FRF
and commentaries publications rele-
Pour commander: Editions Actes Sud, Le Méjan,
on publications
vant to the debate
Place Nina Berberova, 13200 Arles, France,
supported or pub-
on non-Western
fax: +33-4-90969525
lished by the Fund. culture.
Ministère de la culture et du tourisme de Mali,
bp e-4075, Bamako, Mali
The 1998 Prince Claus Awards (1998)
is the full-colour book marking the 1998 Prince
Claus Awards. It highlights the principal award
fashion designers: Alphadi from Niger, Oumou Sy
from Senegal and Tetteh Adzedu from Ghana
representing the Art of African Fashion. The publication also contains information on other individual laureates, such as the Indian Jyotindra Jain, the
Malaysian Redza Piyadasa and Baaba Maal from
Senegal. The contributing authors include Carlos
Fuentes, J.H. Kwabena Nketia (Ghana), Evelyne
Accad (Lebanon), Apinan Poshyananda (Thailand)
and Aracy Amaral (Brazil). Further information on
the contents of the publication can be found in the
article on the 1998 Prince Claus Awards written by
Marlous Willemsen, p. 58.
New Publications supported or
published by the Prince Claus Fund /
Publications soutenues ou publiées
par la Fondation Prince Claus /
Publicaciones patrocinadas o
publica-das por la Fundación
Príncipe Claus
Ja Taa ‘Prendre L’Image’, 3es Rencontres de la
photographie africaine, Bamako (1998)
Les troisièmes Rencontres de la photographie africaine de Bamako combinent l’approche thématique avec une exposition par pays qui mêle différents genres et styles. Ces troisièmes Rencontres
représentent une étape importante, car elles intègrent l’Afrique du Nord dans la sphère de la photographie africaine – élément qui manquait cruellement aux rencontres précédentes centrées sur
l’Afrique subsaharienne. Cette approche plus fédératrice des cultures africaines s’éloigne radicalement de la tendance à la dichotomie qui prévaut dans les représentations de l’art africain dans la
muséographie occidentale et l’histoire de l’art.
On peut s’interroger: pourquoi une biennale consacrée à la photographie africaine? La réponse est
simple: ‘Si tu n’exposes pas, tu n’existes pas!’ Les
expositions sont à la base même de l’histoire de l’art.
Elles jouent un rôle primordial dans la diffusion de
l’objet d’art et dans son déplacement du domaine
72
Ja Taa ’Prendre l’Image’,
3es Rencontres de la
photographie africaine,
Bamako, 1998
tion of human beings and the expression of the self.
Contributing authors: Aminata Dramane Traoré,
Minister of Culture and Tourism, Mali; Hudita Nura
Mustafa (South Africa); Mounira Khemir (Tunisia/
France); T.K.Biaya (dr Congo/ Senegal); Salah M.
Hassan (Sudan/usa); Marie-Amy Mbow (Senegal);
Renée Mendy (Senegal/France); Anna Getaneh
(Ethiopia/usa). Among the African fashion designers presented are Abraham Pelham (Liberia/
France), Tetteh Adzedu (Ghana), Joël Andrianomearisoa (Madagascar), Alphadi (Niger), Katoucha
(Guinea/uk), Oumou Sy (Senegal) and Xuly Bët
(Mali/France). Among the contributing photographers are Eric Don-Arthur (Ghana); Mamadou
Touré Béhan (Senegal); Karin Duthie (Botswana)
and Bruno de Medeiros (Ivory Coast). The book was
co-published by Africa World Press.
‘In contrast to the perversions in the transplanted
neo-colonial institutions of state and economy ,
popular culture seems rooted in the popular
economy and society. Painting in Congo, fashion in
Dakar and music in Nigeria cannot be contained
within the analytic confines of colonial dialectics,
cultural imperialism and tradition or authenticity.’ –
Hudita Nura Mustafa in ‘The Art of African Fashion’.
ISBN 0 86543 726 2, Price: USD 29.95
The publication can be ordered from your bookstore
or from the distributor: Africa World Press, Inc.,
po Box 1892, Trenton, nj 08607 usa, fax +1-6098440198, e-mail: [email protected]
New from Africa World Press
Urban Obsessions, Urban Fears:The Postcolonial
ISBN 90 76162 02 6
Kenyan Novel (1998)
To order: transfer nlg 50 to the Prince Claus Fund,
J. Roger Kurtz’ analysis of the development of the
Kenyan novel in English emphasises the historical
contingencies affecting the production of literature in Kenya, and how the succeeding generations
have drawn from and expanded the thematic
repertoire established by the ‘first generation’ of
works in the 1960s. He explores the relationship
between the novel and the city, and how obsessions
and fears about urbanisation have been expressed
and represented through different generations of
Kenyan writers. Kurtz has also put together the first
annotated bibliography of all the anglophone
Kenyan novels that have appeared since Ngugi’s
‘Weep not, Child’. This book made an immediate
account number 60.30.55.559 of the abn Amro Bank,
The Hague, Netherlands, or send a cheque to the
Prince Claus Fund, Hoge Nieuwstraat 30, 2514 el The
Hague, Netherlands. Please indicate your name and
address clearly and mention ‘1998 awards publication’.
The costs also cover postage to all locations.
The Art of African Fashion (1998)
This publication accompanied the presentation of
the Principal 1998 Prince Claus Award to the Art of
African Fashion. It examines the arts of African
fashion design, textile design, hair design and body
decoration – in short all arts relating to the decora-
Hair design by
impact on its publication in 1964. Since then
hundreds of novels by Kenyans have been published. A unifying feature is an uneasy but marked
emphasis on the city – particularly Nairobi. The city
is used as both the site and the symbol for a range of
obsessions and fears about postcolonial society.
J. Roger Kurtz is Assistant Professor of English at
the State University of New York (suny) in Brockport, usa, where he teaches postcolonial and world
literatures.
Véronique Médor,
ISBN 0 86543 657 6 Price: USD 21.95
Dakar, Senegal
in:The Art of African
Fashion, 1998
The publication can be ordered from: Africa World
Press, Inc., poBox 1892, Trenton, nj08607, usa, fax:
+1-609-8440198, e-mail: [email protected]
The Global African,A Portrait of Ali A. Mazrui
(1998)
Ali A. Mazrui is perhaps Global Africa’s most prolific
and accomplished writer of the second half of the 20th
century: W.E.B. Du Bois cast a similarly long shadow in
the first half. Anticipating the auspicious convergence
of his 60th birthday and the 30th anniversary of his
professional debut, Ali A. Mazrui’s students, friends
and colleagues seized the opportunity to critically
assess the significance of the prodigious body of
scholarship affectionately dubbed ‘Mazruiana’. In
November 1992, in Seattle, Washington, usa, four
panels devoted exclusively to ‘Mazruiana’ were
convened at the annual meeting of the African Studies
Association, with the added attraction of Mazrui’s
attendance at the convocation and his immediate
personal response to the original papers presented
there. While no single volume could do justice to
Mazrui’s colossal literary output, here at least is
gathered the collective investigative insight of a team
of well-informed critics into select, salient facets of this
provocative but stimulating literary and intellectual
phenomenon.
The long list of contributors to this Festschrift
includes: John W. Harbeson, Dunstan M. Wai, Darryl
C. Thomas, Negussay Ayele, Parviz Morewedge,
Hussein M. Adam, Alamin M. Mazrui, Claude E. Welch,
Peter N. Thuynsma, Richard L. Sklar, Betty J. Craige,
Molara Ogundipe-Leslie, Chaly Sawere, Burjor Avari,
Diana Frank, Omari H. Kokole and Ali A. Mazrui
himself.
Editor Omari H. Kokole was born in Uganda in 1952.
He was the Associate Director of the Institute of
Global Cultural Studies at suny, Binghamton, usa.
He received his education at Makerere University,
73
Kampala, Uganda (1973-76), the University of Manchester uk (1976-77), and Dalhouse University in
Canada, where he obtained his Ph.D. in political
science.
Emerging Perspectives on Dambudzo Marechera
(1999)
ISBN: 0 86543 581 2, Price: USD 24.95
The Zimbabwean writer Dambudzo Marechera
was regarded by some as mad and by others as a
genius. Today, ten years after his death, his
international reputation continues to grow, not
only as one of the most innovative writers Africa
has produced but as an important voice in 20thcentury literature. This new book is the first
collection of critical essays devoted entirely to
Marechera. Flora Veit-Wild and Anthony Chennells
have brought together the work of scholars from
Zimbabwe, South Africa, Italy, Nigeria, Germany
and England to show the complexity and variety of
responses which Marechera’s writing evokes.
Although he was impatient at the label ‘African
Writer’, finding it prescriptive and constraining,
Marechera engaged with Africa in everything
which he wrote. He raged at the racism of the
Rhodesia into which he was born and the arrogance, corruption and self-serving cultural nationalism of so many of Africa’s post-independence
governments: several essays draw attention to the
political dimensions of his work. Above all, essay
after essay demonstrates how Marechera’s was an
art directed towards the healing of society and individuals, both in Africa and throughout the world.
Editors: Flora Veit-Wildt and Anthony Chennell.
Flora Veit-Wild is Professor of African Literature at
Humboldt University in Berlin. She is the author of
‘Dambudzo Marechera, A Source on his Life and
Work’ and ‘Teachers, Preachers, Non-Believers: A
Social History of Zimbabwean Literature’. Anthony
Chennells is Associate Professor of English at the
University of Zimbabwe and has published articles
on aspects of literature, history, and religion in
Southern Africa.
‘A profound, even if exaggeratedly self-aware writer
… Marechera was … in constant quest for his real
self, quarrying towards a core that he once wryly
expressed in the cry: My whole life has been an
attempt to make myself the skeleton in my own
cupboard.’ – Wole Soyinka
ISBN: 0 86543 533 2, Price: USD 21.95
Press, Inc., po Box 1892, Trenton, nj 08607 usa, fax:
Emerging Perspectives on Ama Ata Aidoo (1999)
This ambitious and comprehensive volume of
essays, edited by two committed scholars, mirrors
a collection of insights, analyses and approaches to
the works by Ghana’s foremost woman writer, who
has prevailed for over thirty years on the African
literature scene by her sheer tenacity of purpose
and the freshness of her writing. Ama Ata Aidoo
comes across as a sturdy, well-rounded, dignified
and reputable writer of world class, not only in the
originality, complexity and sophistication of her
thoughts, but also in the diversity of the possibilities in her writing. Students of cultural politics,
international relations, women’s studies, history
and African studies will find this anthology a
compelling resource.
Editors: Ada Uaoamaka Azodo and Gay Wilentz.
Ada Uaoamaka Azodo is adjunct Associate Professor of French and American Studies at Indiana
University-Northwest, and author of ‘L’imaginaire
dans les romans de Camera Laye’ (1993). Gay
Wilentz is Associate Professor of English at East
Carolina University, and the author of ‘Binding
Cultures, Black Women Writers in Africa and the
Diaspora’ (1992).
‘A fitting tribute to the artistry, proverbial strength
and uncompromising voice of a committed writer
and truth-teller, this collection of powerful and
illuminating essays memorialise Ama Ata Aidoo’s
deep sense of history and consciousness of a feminism that is unyielding in its inscription of the
balance and wisdom of Africa.’ – Obioma Nnaemeka, Indiana University, Indianapolis
Dambudzo Marechera
in: Emerging Perspectives on Dambudzo
Marechera, 1999
New
from Oxford University
Press UK
Nueva publicación de
Editorial Grijalbo
The ‘Amiriya in Rada’,The History and
Cultura y comunicación en la Ciudad de México
Restoration of a Sixteenth-century Madrasa in
(1998; dos partes:)
the Yemen by Selma Al-Radi (1997)
Modernidad y multiculturalidad, La Ciudad de
This latest volume of ‘Oxford Studies in Islamic Art’
is devoted to one of the most important early 16thcentury buildings still extant in the Yemen, the
Amiriya madrasa (an institute of Islamic religious
studies) in Rada. The building is fully described and
its place in the development of Rasulid and Tahirid
architecture extensively discussed. Selma Al-Radi
of the Institute of Fine Arts of New York University
led the restoration of the building. Using a team of
local craftsmen, the restoration project spanned
four years, making full use of indigenous materials
to return the monument to its former glory. The
volume is written with the aim of encouraging
other developing countries to use their own
resources in order to rejuvenate their national
heritage. It combines clear working directions with
historical analysis.
The editor is Robert Hillenbrand, Professor in
Islamic Art at Edinburgh University, uk. Venetia
Porter of the Department of Coins and Medals in
the British Museum in London, Ruth Barnes,
Research Associate at the Ashmolean Museum in
Oxford, and researcher Yahya Al-Nasiri provided
contributions on the architectural decoration and
history of the building.
Selma Al-Radi read Oriental Studies at Cambridge
University, and completed a Ph.D. at the Archaeological Institute, University of Amsterdam, on
the Cypriot sanctuary site Phlamoudhi Vounari. For
most of the last 20 years, however, she has been
working on the medieval architecture of the
Yemen, on which she is an acknowledged specialist.
Selma Al-Radi is a member of the International
Advisory Committee of the Prince Claus Fund. hrh
Prince Claus of the Netherlands has written the
foreword to the publication.
México a fin de siglo; La ciudad y los ciudadanos
imaginados por los medios
Bajo la coordinación editorial de Néstor García
Canclini este libro ofrece investigaciones realizadas
sobre el desarrollo cultural y comunicacional de la
Ciudad de México. Estos trabajos exploran las
modificaciones ocurridas en las últimas décadas en
el centro histórico y las periferias, la modernización
Plan of the ‘Amiriya
del habitar, los cambios de las identidades barriales,
in:The ‘Amiriya in
la irrupción de los grandes centros comerciales y la
Rada’, 1997
inserción de la megalópolis en las redes de
globalización.
Fotografía: Esteban
¿Cómo se forman los imaginarios en una ciudad tan
Vernik
diseminada? Se analizan las versiones de diversos
en: Cultura y communi- gobiernos y sectores de la población, así como las
cación en la Ciudad de
maneras en que la música, la prensa, la radio y la
México, II, 1998
televisión hablan de la vida urbana. Con una perspectiva multidisciplinaria, los autores examinan las
antiguas y nuevas formas culturales presentes en
esta ciudad que ha recibido migrantes de todo el
país, la reorganización de lo público y lo privado, los
usos de espacios urbanos y la apropiación de
mensajes mediáticos nacionales y extranjeros.
La vasta información reunida por primera vez en
esta obra y las nuevas perspectivas que ofrece para
el estudio y la comprensión de los cambios metropolitanos, la convierte en un instrumento fundamental para antropólogos, sociólogos y comunicólogos, para urbanistas, planificadores, movimientos urbanos y responsables de políticas sociales y
culturales. Néstor García Canclini es uno de los
contribuidores en la publicación ‘The 1998 Prince
Claus Awards’.
ISBN 970 05 1032 8 (obra completa)
También de Grijalbo: La ciudad de los viajeros,
Travesías imaginarios urbanos: México, 1940-2000
ISBN 0 19 728023 4, Price: GBP 35
ISBN 970 05 0646 0
ISBN: 0 86543 645 2, Price: USD 21,95
The publication can be ordered from: Oxford Univer-
Pedidos: Editorial Grijalbo, Calz. San Bartolo
Press, Inc., po Box 1892 Trenton, nj 08607 usa, fax:
sity Press, Great Clarendon Street, Oxford ox2 6dp,
Naucalpan num. 282, Argentina Poniente, 11230,
Press, Inc., po Box 1892, Trenton, nj 08607 usa, fax:
uk, fax: +44-186-5556646, e-mail: [email protected]
Miguel Hidalgo, México
74
75
New from Villegas Editores
(1936, Curaçao) es novelista, poeta y dramaturgo.
Es también investigador y promotor del Papiamento, la lengua creol de las Antillas. Ha escrito
poesía en Papiamento y ha publicado muchos libros y artículos en esta lengua, tales como ‘Papiamentu, the Road to Emancipation’ (Papiamento, el
camino a la emancipación), que apareció en 1990. Fue
Director del Instituto Lingwistíko Antiano (instituto
de la lengua de las antillas holandesas) desde 1981
hasta 1996. Desde 1986 ha sido Presidente de la
Foundation for Humanistic Schools in Papiamentu y
en 1987 fue co-fundador del Papiamentu School
Kolegio Erasmo. Fue Presidente del Standardisation
Committee of Papiamentu hasta 1996 y en el mismo
año obtuvo un Ph.D. con una disertación titulada:
‘The Kiss of a Slave’ (el beso de un esclavo).
Rogelio Salmona (1998)
Colombian architect Rogelio Salmona has
translated pragmatic and poetic concepts and
intentions into physical form. They are the result of
the architect’s deep communion with and
understanding of materials and processes, and his
understanding of the historical-cultural context in
which his architectural intervention takes place.
Traditional materials such as brick and stone, or Rogelio Salmona, 1998
unexpected materials such as water and wind are
combined to interact with and enhance the
surroundings in a most wonderful manner. The
immediate is defined by the architecture, as is the
distant, consisting of the landscape. This book,
edited by the art historian and architect Ricardo
L.Castro, is a tribute rather than an exhaustive study
of the architect’s work. It consists of a personal and
selective interpretation at the iconographic and
textual level, in particular of the work which postdated the Torres del Parque (Bogotá, 1963-1970),
one of the most notable examples of Salmona’s
oeuvre.
Rogelio Salmona was a recipient of a Prince Claus
Award in 1998.
ISBN 958 9393 58 6
Publishers are invited to submit a review copy
To order: Villegas Editores, Avenida 82 No. 11-50,
of books relevant to the Prince Claus Fund.
Interior 3, Bogotá, d.c., Colombia, fax: +1-616-0020;
Reviews of selected publications are included
e-mail: [email protected]
in the Journal. /
Les éditeurs sont priés de bien vouloir adresser
à la Fondation Prince Claus, pour compterendu , tout ouvrage susceptible d’intéresser
la Fondation. Le Journal publie des comptesrendus d’ouvrages sélectionnés. /
Se invita a las casas editoriales a enviarnos
copias de sus nuevos libros sobre temas
relevantes a la Fundación Príncipe Claus.
Esta revista incluirá críticas de las publicaciones
seleccionadas.
Prince Claus Fund /
Fondation Prince Claus /
Hoge Nieuwstraat 30
2514 el The Hague, Netherlands /
La Haye, Pays-Bas / La Haya, Países Bajos
phone: +31-70-4274303
fax: +31-70-4274277
e-mail: [email protected]
www.princeclausfund.nl
76
c
Rossina Cazali
(1960, Guatemala) es curadora independiente y
crítica de arte. Como co-fundadora de Colloquia,
un centro para el arte contemporáneo en Guatemala, es miembro de la junta directiva. Se desempeña como coordinadora del proyecto de Creadores Jóvenes de Bancafé. Como crítica de arte, es
Contributing
colaboradora de ‘Acordeón’, la revista cultural del
authors /
‘Periódico News’ y de ‘Art Nexus’, revista de arte de
Auteurs particiColombia. Ha trabajado como investigadora para la
pant à ce numéro / ‘MacMillan Art Encyclopedia de Latin America’,
Contribuidores
(Editorial MacMillan, Inglaterra) y para la ‘Historia
general de Guatemala’ (Guatemala). Como curadora, su trabajo incluye exposiciones como ‘1265
Kilómetros, arte contemporáneo de Guatemala en
Cuba’ (Centro Wifredo Lam, 1998); ‘El cuerpo
en/de la fotografía’ (Museo de arte y diseño
contemporáneo de Costa Rica, 1998); ‘IndagacioRustom Homi Bharucha
nes’ (Galería sdr de Guatemala, 1994) y fue la
(1953, India) is an independent writer, director and
curadora de Guatemala para la 24 Bienal de São
dramaturg based in Calcutta. His background is
Paulo (1996).
theatre, but he is increasingly concerned with
Omar D.
issues relating to secularism and the task of mobili(1941, Alger) vit et travaille en Algérie. Cet universing cultural exchanges against the demands of
sitaire pratique depuis 1970 la photographie. Sa
globalisation. His next book, ‘Shifting Sites’, adphotographie est d’emblée au centre de son sujet.
dresses these topics. Rustom Bharucha is the
Chaque image, composée avec rigueur, cadrée avec
author of ‘In the Name of the Secular, Contemle souci de remplir utilement la surface sensible
porary Cultural Activism in India’ (1998), ‘Chan(cette utilité vise la construction graphique de
dralekha, Woman/Dance/Resistance’ (1997) and
l’image, le refus de l’anecdote, l’importance du
‘Theatre and the World, Performance and the
détail dans l’information générale) est en soi une
Politics of Culture’ (1990/1993). In 1998 he worked
narration complète d’un instant particulier dans un
as a dramaturg and consultant for ‘The Flying Cirpays singulier. Cette force dans le compte rendu
cus Project’, an intercultural theatre collaboration
objectif n’est pas exempte de qualités émotionof traditional and contemporary performers and
nelles. Celles-ci, contenues généralement dans
musicians from India, Korea and Burma.
l’élément humain de la photographie, montrent
avec quel respect Omar D. considère ses proches.
(Argentina/México) es profesor investigador de la
Mai Ghoussoub
Universidad Autónoma Metropolitana de la Ciudad
(Lebanon) is an artist and co-founding Director of
de México, en donde dirige el programa de estudios
Al Saqi Books and Publishers, London and Beirut.
de Cultura Urbana. Entre sus publicaciones se
Al Saqi specialises in the history and culture of the
incluyen: ‘Culturas híbridas’ (1995), ‘Consumidores
Arab world; its publications include an Arabicy ciudadanos’ (1995) y ‘Cultura y comunicación en la
language magazine devoted to cultural criticism:
Ciudad de México’ (1998; dos partes: ‘Modernidad y
‘Abwab’. Mai Ghoussoub’s sculptures are part of
multiculturalidad, La Ciudad de México a fin de
the travelling exhibition ‘Dialogues of the Present,
siglo’ y ‘La ciudad y los ciudadanos imaginados por
The Work of 18 Arab Women Artists ’ (Brunei
los medios’). Bajo la coordinación editorial de
Gallery, London, until 14 June 1999; Pitshanger
Néstor García Canclini este libro ofrece investiManor and Gallery, London 14 July to 14 August;
gaciones realizadas sobre el desarrollo cultural y
Brighton University Gallery, 8 to 30 January 2000 ).
comunicacional de la Ciudad de México.
77
Salah M. Hassan
(Sudan) is currently Assistant Professor of African
and African Diaspora Art History and Visual Culture in the Africana Studies and Research Center at
Cornell University, Ithaca, usa. After obtaining a
b.a. degree in 1976 from the University of Khartoum, Sudan, he received an m.a. in 1984 from the
University of Pennsylvania, usa, and a Ph.D in 1998.
He is editor of ‘Nka Journal of Contemporary African Art’, and serves as consulting editor for ‘African
Arts’ and ‘Atlantica’. He has published and contributed to many catalogues, books and magazines.
Ted Jaspers
(1952, Países Bajos) estudió literatura comparada en
Groningen, Países Bajos. Después ahondó cada vez
más en la música africana y fue director del
conjunto malinés Benkadi. Es el fundador y productor del sello discográfico Dakar Sound que tiene
sucursales en Senegal y en los Países Bajos. Dakar
Sound ha publicado en tres años ocho discos,
principalmente antiguas novedades discográficas
de discos pop de la Edad de Oro de la música de
África occidental. Jaspers trabaja especialmente
con grabaciones de antiguos casetes y lp, ya que las
cintas maestras originales han desaparecido, han
sido robadas o seriamente descuidadas. Los próximos discos que Dakar Sound lanza al mercado es
uno de Dexter Johnson y uno del grupo Congolés
African Jazz/Team.
Geeta Kapur
(1943, India) is an art critic and curator. She is a prolific writer and the founding co-editor of the ‘Journal of Arts and Ideas’ (Delhi, since 1982). Among
her most recent publications are: ‘When Was
Modernism? Essays on Contemporary Cultural
Practice in India’ (Tulika, Delhi, 1998) and ‘Lightness of Being, Indifferent Loves: The Water Colours
of Bhupen Khakar’ (in: ‘Art Asia Pacific’, no. 14, 1997).
Geeta Kapur has lectured at many international
institutes and universities and has participated in
numerous international seminars and conferences.
She curated many exhibitions and was the Indian
curator of ‘Bua! Emergent Voices’ for the 1995
Johannesburg biennale.
78
Correction
La Fondation Prince Claus tient
à corriger les phrases suivantes
publiées dans le premier numéro
de son Journal, dans le discours
de Pierre Gomdaogo Nakoulima
intitulé ‘Faut-il encore souhaiter
le développement?’:
A la page 21, colonne de gauche,
ligne 18 du discours, veuillez lire:
‘En Afrique près de quarante
années de développement ont
engendré des résultats différents
des objectifs assignés. Le
développement ne paraît donc
pas souhaitable.’
A la page 21, colonne de droite,
ligne 10, veuilllez lire:
‘que l’objectif qui devrait être
atteint par une correction du
mauvais partir ou par la création
des conditions du partir et qui
est le développement; le
développement qui dans la
représentation commune est
synomyme de niveau de vie
élevé, d’accès ou bien-être.’
A la page 23, colonne de droite,
ligne 24, veuillez lire:‘c’est la
farce de la décolonisation’.
A la page 24, annotation 9, le
titre exact est:‘Y-a-t-il crise
du développement’.
The Prince Claus Fund stimulates and supports
activities in the field of culture and development by
granting awards, funding and producing publications and by financing and promoting networks
and innovative projects. Support is given both to
persons and to organisations in African, Asian,
Latin America and Caribbean countries. Equality,
respect and trust are the essential parameters of
such partnerships; quality and innovation are the
preconditions for support.
The Prince Claus Fund for Culture and Development was established to mark the 70th birthday of
hrh Prince Claus of the Netherlands on 6 September 1996. It represents an appreciation of his
lifelong efforts stressing the importance of culture
in international co-operation and of his achievements in this field.
The Fund adopts a broad and dynamic approach to
culture, based on the concept of constant change.
Culture is those values and processes which invest
life with meaning through professional artistic
achievements and academic work in the humanities. The Fund’s chief interest is in the development
of ideas and ideals, the manner in which people give
form to these ideas and ideals and the manner in
which such ideas and ideals give form to society.
The Fund stimulates exchanges between purveyors
of culture, notably in non-Western countries, exchanges designed to push back both national and
disciplinary frontiers. Such exchanges encourage
critical reflection on one’s own culture and that of
others, and at the same time generate cultural selfconfidence. The Fund also hopes to contribute to a
critical reflection on the cultural foundations of international co-operation.
The Prince Claus Fund envisages a worldwide
platform for the intellectual debate on shared
values, in the form of meetings, discussions, lectures and publications. All too often this debate is
dismissed as useless and unnecessary. Appreciation and stimulation will attract greater recognition
and esteem, facilitating the propagation of important ideas.
The Prince Claus
Fund /
La Fondation
Prince Claus
La Fondation Prince Claus encourage et soutient
des activités dans le domaine de la culture et du
développement, en décernant des prix, en subventionnant et en publiant des ouvrages et en encourageant la création de réseaux et de projets novateurs. La Fondation accorde son soutien à des
personnes et à des organismes, notamment dans
des pays d’Afrique, d’Asie, d’Amérique latine et des
Caraïbes. Égalité, respect et confiance mutuels sont
les principes fondamentaux d’un tel partenariat;
qualité et originalité sont les conditions préalables
au soutien accordé.
La Fondation Prince Claus pour la Culture et le Développement a été créée à l’occasion du 70e anniversaire de S.A.R. le Prince Claus des Pays-Bas, le 6
septembre 1996; il s’agissait d’honorer son œuvre et
ses efforts constants pour faire reconnaître le rôle
fondamental de la culture dans le cadre de la coopération internationale.
La Fondation a opté pour une approche large et
dynamique du phénomène culturel. Elle part du
principe que la culture est en constante mutation.
La culture désigne les valeurs et les processus qui
donnent sens à la vie à travers des réalisations artistiques et des travaux universitaires dans le domaine
des sciences humaines. La Fondation s’intéresse
tout particulièrement au développement d’idées et
d’idéaux, à la manière dont une société leur donne
forme et, inversement, comment ils la modèlent.
La Fondation stimule les échanges entre tous ceux
qui créent la culture sous une forme ou une autre,
notamment dans les pays non-occidentaux. Ces
échanges permettent de dépasser les frontières,
géographiques ou académiques. Ces échanges favorisent une réflexion critique réciproque sur chacune des cultures engagées dans ce partenariat et
donne en même temps naissance à une prise de
conscience culturelle. La Fondation espère ainsi
contribuer à une réflexion critique plus générale
concernant les fondements culturels de la coopération internationale.
La Fondation Prince Claus se propose de créer un
espace mondial pour un débat d’idées sur les valeurs
partagées, et ceci sous la forme de rencontres, de
discussions, de conférences et de publications
d’ouvrages. Ce débat est trop souvent considéré
comme inutile et superflu. Lui accorder une
importance permet au contraire de valoriser les
différentes cultures et de diffuser des idées
fondamentales.
79
La Fundación Príncipe Claus fomenta y apoya acti- La Fundación
vidades en el campo de la cultura y el desarrollo y, Príncipe Claus
con este fin, concede premios, secunda y edita
publicaciones, promueve proyectos innovadores e
intercambios interculturales. Presta ayuda a per-sonas y organizaciones que, según su criterio, la necesitan; dando prioridad a países de África, Asia,
América Latina y el Caribe.
Igualdad, respeto y confianza son los principios esenciales entre los integrantes de la Fundación; calidad y perseverancia son las condiciones mínimas
de apoyo.
La Fundación Príncipe Claus para la Cultura y el Desarrollo se creó con ocasión de los 70 años del Príncipe Claus de los Países Bajos, el 6 de septiembre de
1996, con el fin de ‘fomentar el entendimiento de
las culturas y promover la interacción entre cultura
y desarrollo’.
La Fundación aplica un concepto amplio y dinámico de la cultura, basado en el principio de que ésta
cambia permanentemente. La cultura no es solo la
manifestación de la forma de vida cotidiana, sino
también los procesos y valores que dan sentido a la
vida. El interés primordial de la Fundación es el desarrollo de ideas e ideales y la manera de darles
forma.
La Fundación fomenta el intercambio entre los contribuyentes al desarrollo de la cultura. El fin de estos
intercambios es traspasar las fronteras disciplinarias y nacionales. Se concede gran importancia a
los intercambios entre individuos portadores de
cultura fuera de los países occidentales. Tales intercambios incitan a reflexionar críticamente sobre la
propia cultura y la ajena, lo que permite la formación de una conciencia cultural propia.
La Fundación también intenta contribuir a la reflexión crítica sobre las bases culturales de la cooperación internacional.
La Fundación es como una plataforma mundial para
el debate intelectual sobre los valores compartidos
por medio de encuentros, discusiones, conferencias y publicaciones. Este debate es a menudo considerado como inútil e innecesario. Darle valor y
promoverlo hace que se le reconozca y aprecie, facilitando así la difusión de ideas.
80
si
La cultura
es una
necesidad
La Fundación Príncipe Claus
cuenta corriente: 60.30.55.559 del banco
ABN-Amro, La Haya, Países Bajos
81

journal 2 biwe - Prince Claus Fund

Transcripción

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