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Will someone allow the real Kenyan art scene to stand up?

Michael Soi, Shame in Venice 2
Michael Soi, Shame in Venice 2

Much has already been said about the Kenyan Pavilion at Venice in 2013, about the role of the Italians curating it and the Chinese artists showing in it, all flying the Kenyan flag. The Venice Biennale is arguably the grandest podium for any artist. But it is one an artist cannot simply barge onto, no matter how prolific or successful he or she is. The structures dictate that artists are invited to take part via intermediaries – curators, dealers/agents or their national pavilions. Curators will work with cool artists. Dealers mainly go for those who guarantee commercial success. That leaves most artists hoping to make it to these ‘Art Olympics’ through their national pavilions. It’s a system that, in the main, seems to have worked for all other countries through the other 55 editions. Except Kenya!

In 2013, when Kenya hosted its first national pavilion at the Biennale, we were disappointed at the presence of so many non-Kenyan artists within it. Indeed, we were so hurt that we weren’t sure what to do, and when our government appeared to play dumb about it, we believed them. We let our emotions make decisions and gave everyone the benefit of doubt. We were naive. Then this year, slowly countries started unveiling their pavilions for the 56th Biennale and the artists representing them. Zimbabwe was among the first. They must be the model pavilion: they are ‘Zim’ through and through. Curator – Raphael Chikukwa; assistant curator – Tafadzwa Gwetai; commissioner – Doreen Sibanda; artists – Chiko Chazunguza, Masimba Hwati and Gareth Nyandoro.

The Kenyan Pavilion had no pomp and circumstance for its launch. It just crept onto the Biennale website. And it turned out to be a repeat of 2013. It was commissioned by Paola Poponi (Italian) and curated by Sandro Orlandi Stagl (Italian), just as it had been for the last Biennale. These individuals have again selected mostly artists who are non-Kenyan – Qin Feng, Shi Jinsong, Li Zhanyang, Lan Zheng Hui, Li Gang and Double Fly Art Center (all Chinese) – and presented them as Kenyans. This has angered us because we have numerous artists who have recently gained prominence internationally, and we feel we’d be better represented by them – reputable artists such as Beatrice Njoroge, Anthony Okello, Sam Hopkins and Peterson Kamwathi, to name but a few. Kamwathi, currently one of Kenya’s most prolific artists, should probably be the face of the Kenyan Pavilion at the Biennale.

Our (2013) disappointment has turned to anger. Anger not because we personally didn’t make it to Venice, but because – again – we have impostors there. People purporting to be us. Masquerading as Kenyan artists. Claiming to be telling our story. The Kenyan Pavilion has again been awarded to individuals who have no relationship to the Kenyan art community. How did we get here? How do non-Kenyans walk in and claim our right? How do they appropriate our identity?

How did we get here? How do non-Kenyans walk in and claim our right? How do they appropriate our identity?

In an attempt to get to the root of this, Kenyan artists sought an audience with the relevant government agents, who initially were not available. No one in (a position of) authority – from the Kenyan Ministry of Sports, Culture and the Arts, or Foreign Affairs and International Trade, the Brand Kenya Board, the Export Promotion Council, our equivalent of the National Gallery or the Kenya Cultural Centre, not even government-consulted outfits like the Creative Economy Working Group or the Kenya Copyright Board – was even willing to participate in a conversation to try and figure out what was going on. They seemed clueless. Or rather, they (up to now) have pretended to be, probably waiting for it all to go away. None has issued a statement. None of them seems to have an opinion, except to not to want to disturb the status quo.

Artists gathered and decided it was better to have no (Kenyan) pavilion at all than one full of impostors, and when no help was forthcoming from Kenyan authorities, social media campaigns started. Eventually the culture cabinet secretary, through emissaries, agreed to a meeting at his office. This turned out to be a farce.

At the meeting we felt like we were the ones being interrogated, rather than the other way round, about whether we were in a position to cause any trouble in regard to the misrepresentation that the mess was creating.

From this and subsequent conversations, coupled with how the government agents have behaved, we smelled a rat. The process of acquiring a national pavilion in Venice has given us reason to believe that those who have been given the responsibility of ‘representing’ Kenya must have ‘full government’ support. Someone high up must have signed away our birthright.

It is also time for Kenyan artists to realise that their practice goes beyond their studios and that they have a responsibility to claim what belongs to them

The common consensus among us artists is that they can have their pavilion, but that they leave our name, identity and flag out of it. Our resolve is to achieve this before the launch of the Biennale. This we intend to do through our modest networks of friends (locally and internationally), through social-media activism and local creative networks of artists, reputable writers, thespians and friends of (genuine) Kenyan art. It is also time for Kenyan artists to realise that their practice goes beyond their studios and that they have a responsibility to claim what belongs to them. Days of heckling and picketing are long gone, and we should now be able to engage on more sophisticated platforms. While some of us are engaging in informed verbal discourse, others are involved in critical writing.

Personally, I am using my following/popularity to make work about this and other social and political situations that the average Kenyan often has to face – issues revolving around political impunity, corruption, interracial relationships, the growing sex industry in Kenya and of late, the emergence of China in the lives of Kenyans. I try to make my work as simple as possible. What you see most of the time is what you get.

Many art institutions locally are very passive in this endeavour. But there are some, such as the GoDown Arts Centre and Kuona Trust, that also feel the need to be part of it.

Kuona Trust, formed in 1995, is a not-forprofit outfit that aims to raise the profile of the arts locally by creating opportunities for artists through providing affordable studio spaces, training, exhibitions and international residencies. Though things have changed a lot in the (almost) 20 years of its existence, they still remain relevant in contemporary Nairobi.

They currently host about 30 artists, most of whom are active locally. They also have a small temporary exhibition space that’s quite reputable in conceptual exhibition circles and probably has the most modern art library in the region.

For most of the resident artists it’s the only space that is not only centrally located, but is also an information hub, with professional studios and regular contact with both local and visiting artists. It is also the only local outfit that funds artists’ conceptual projects. Artists also have regular opportunities to participate in artist residencies with partner institutions (Triangle Arts Trust partners) regionally.

The GoDown (set up in 2003), which is modelled around the same principle as Kuona but with more bias towards performing arts, has visual art studios and a gallery, hosts regular residencies and holds the only annual visual arts competition in Kenya.

Other art outfits, like Banana Hill Art Gallery, Maasai Mbili studio, Ngecha Artist Association and the Kenya Visual Artist Network, may not be so activist but in other ways are also attempting to better the general contemporary Kenyan scene.

But at the time of writing there does seem to be a little light at the end of the tunnel. On 12 April, the Kenyan government, through the cabinet secretary of Sports, Culture and the Arts, Hassan Wario, issued a signed ministerial statement denouncing 1) the pavilion; 2) the misrepresentation; and 3) the use of the Kenyan flag and name on said pavilion, and promised to formulate ways in which Kenya would be represented in the 2017 Biennale by a credible Kenyan Pavilion.

The Kenyan arts community is grateful to the artists and friends of Kenyan art, both in Kenya and abroad, for their support.

In conclusion, I want to admit that I am circumspect, and as much as we are now celebrating, let us bear in mind that this was just a small fistfight and we must now prepare for the greater battle to realise a proper Kenyan Pavilion at the 2017 Venice Biennale. I hope that next time any of us writes an article in any international magazine or online publication, it will be informing the international arts community of the great pavilion we will be presenting to the world in 2017. 

See here for more about Michael Soi

This article was first published in the May 2015 issue. 

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