+2 : Egypt : Cairo : 11/ 10 / 2001

Living Amongst the Dead

At last I'm in Cairo, I'm excited as it means I get to seethe Pyramids. My earliest memories of art are of drawing hieroglyphics, making my own alphabets and designs. I was interested and  obsessed ancient Egyptian mythology, culture and afterlife, lured in by shiny gold. 

Photograph by Tamara Abdul Hadi

On the way to the Pyramids the majority of buildings appear to be in the process of construction, half built structures with steel supports jutting out of the ceiling with no roof or missing walls. Apparently, this is a scam in order to avoid tax, at least that's what I thought I could make out from the taxi driver's pigeon English. He also pointed out the Citadel, the old capital of Upper Egypt, where he tells us of an old cemetery where people have taken over from the dead. In the past tombs had mausoleum complexes built that were for entertaining. In the times of the Pharaohs, people came to enjoy picnics amongst the graves, often there was even enough space for sleeping over. Later these rooms became perfect places for squatters to take over. Today there are many people who have taken over the tombs, living amongst the dead as new generations become brought up this way.

The Pyramids of Gaza

We get to the Pyramids and there are hoards of people bustling about their working day. Those with camels or donkeys try their upmost to tout for business, luring you in at each opportunity. In the end it gets too much, discontent with the business of bartering a group of five Egyptians verbally panic and shout at one another, as if they were claiming their rights on us. We became their prey following the pack taking the nearest group of camels. I felt sorry for these animals and it was obvious that they had seen better days, with their scabby skin and mass of flies in tow, I wondered if we would catch anything. I wasn't sure of how they were kept, although they looked a sight they were seemed  content, happy enough and it was so hot, too hot to be walking about so I followed the others.

Once we had left the hustle and bustle of hawkers, it was calm and quiet. We had got there  pretty early and we were lucky to be the only people heading towards the great Pyramids. As I shutting my eyes and slowly opening them I could reach towards the spiritual possibilities and history that surround the Pyramid's existence. When they were built the exterior blocks were glistening with white limestone that reflected beams of light in all directions. It was only up to the 19th Century that the limestone was stolen to build the palaces and moss that you see in the city. The Pyramids are huge, and it seems impossible to get your head around how they were built, with such huge blocks, how were they even transported or lifted? And that's not getting as far as the network of paths and corridors connecting the inner chambers. There are many theories as to who built the Pyramids and why. The most traditional explanation being the ancient Egyptians built them as a means, assisting them to reach eternity, guided by their desire to be at one with the cosmos. It was thought that a Pharaoh was the Son of God, he was gifted to earth to lead and serve his people and then in his death he became immortalised as a god. The Pyramids, as well as serving as giant mausoleums for the deceased Pharaoh, are also visual reminders of the ancient Egyptian beliefs of the absolute and eternal powers of the Gods as they rule their land. While other conspiracy theories suggest they have been built by extraterrestrials.

We asked our guides if it was possible to go inside, our response was a firm no! It is possible but it is not worth the effort as it is just a dark black smelly claustrophobic hole, where you can't see a thing. You probably can't see much but I guess the reality was they wanted to keep us as their meal ticket for the day. We enjoyed ourselves and it was spectacular to see the Pyramids and the Sphinx on camel back. At approximately 66 ft tall and 250 ft long I was most impressed that the whole body of the Sphinx has been carved out of one single mass of limestone. While being amazed at the sights we were seeing, as one of the seven wonders of the world, I couldn't help but feel a conned and disappointed. Our premonition was right. As we approached the place where we started the tour , our guide takes us into a slightly different direction and starts to demand more money, as we now needed to pay the other young boy who had tagged on half way and for the up keep and food for the camels, but on no account were we to report this incident to the camel owner. It's a shame that they were so desperate to con for money. Conveniently enough, when we arrived, our taxi driver was out for prayer, which lead to the next opportunity for a scam. They kindly offered apple tea and insisted we took shelter as it was the hottest time of the day. He took us to his friend's gallery selling cheap replica scrolls and 'nice' - tacky, 'ancient' souvenirs and asked us, insisted we buy something there. 

Museum Mummies 

I was amazed at seeing some of the contents that had been taken out of the Pyramids and tombs. The sheer wealth and beauty in gold was breath taking and there were a vast number of mummies and statues scattered everywhere. With such an amazing amount of contents and it's wealth it seemed strange that the up keep of the place was so poor. There was thick dust everywhere and it was dark and dingy with little or no trace of identification. 

There are scrolls of writing, pictures and murals in hieroglyphics, where the relief of people are all lined up on the same level with their feet placed side by side, horizontally, one in front of the other. There are ancient images representing the advances in technology and science, which is apparent in their use of astrology as they look up to the Gods. They believed in an after life and the tombs reveal script that illustrated the journey on  to the afterlife.  To help the dead Pharaohs on their voyage to immortality, offerings were given to the Gods, sacred animals, gifts they may need and gold were encased within the mummified king, in the tomb with him. 

The most startiling and impressive belongings belong to the boy-king Tutankhamen. Although many of the pieces made in gold are seen globally in images, it can not compare to the real thing. This has to be the most beautiful art I have ever seen, breath taking, and also perhaps also for the vast amount of gold and the there value of it and weirdly placed in tattered dirt and darkness it seemed so surreal. The there volume of gold was astounding, from his headers, to the inner sarcophagi of his tomb, where there were jewels, statues and chariots. When you get past the vast gold, you are overwhelmed once again by the beautiful intricate carving, which illustrated the Pharaoh's journey to reaching immortality in the afterlife.

The strangest room, was dark and even dustier, full of mummies from the Graeco - Roman period. The room was full of encased specimens of mummies inside glass cases, lying flat, stacked high, one on top of the other. The mummies speed unusual due to the realistic portraits painted on top of their mummified faces, which I hadn't expected to see as it looked out of place. It seemed strange to see a style that was closer to romantic neoclassical painting of European art, a far cry from the simplistic ancient Egyptian figure and portraits we are accustomed to. 

Tacky Nostalgia 

We ended the day returning to the Pyramids to watch The Pyramid Light and Sound Show where the Sphinx takes the role of narrator, telling us the story of the legacy of ancient Egypt. The light show is dramatic and spectacular accompanied by the voices of Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor, that echo, bouncing off the walls of the Pyramids. It's tacky and cheesy but charming, full of nostalgia. As I turn my head I can see the bright illuminations of the shops near by and the large bold signage of 'Pizza Hut' which feels disappointing, ruining the view. I'm almost surprised that it isn't Mc Donnald's golden arches. Sadly fast food gets prime location as profit wins against the cost of aesthetics. 

+1 : France : Alps : 28/07/2002 : 12/04/2019 : Swiss Alps 12/04/2020 / 1920's

 French Alps.

In my original writings this part was edited out. Originally I'd put it in to get the +1 in my original format. now adding the timelines I've decided to put it back in because it seems relevant. I have travelled to most European countries, some frequently more often than others, but I didn't visit during 2000-02 so I haven't included them yet, but quite likely will later. Today is Easter Sunday, for the past few years we have enjoyed Easter in the Alps and yet it is the Alps that became the epicentre of the Covid 19 outbreak, spreading  all across Europe at rapid speed.

2002

After making a swift recovery from piercing my nail with a two and a half inch nail I was pleased not to miss out on a long weekend to the glacier of Tines, in the hope of learning to snowboard. Unfortunately I don't seem to have inherited from the Norwegian saying of Norwegians being born with skies on their feet - far from it, I'm not exactly what you would call a natural. Of course I was continually told how easy it is, just bend forward and slide, but it didn't help when my body's immediate reaction was to lean back fore the fear of the steep slope. You wouldn't have thought that I had actually skied down the men's Olympic downhill slopes in Lillehammer. I continued to persevere, I had an ultra cool instructor who was not impressed by my serious lack of process

French Alps  : 12 / 04 / 2019  

What a difference, a year to the day makes.

A I said, usually for most years, at this time of year we go to the Alps skiing for Easter. I ditched the snowboard and happily returned to my skis. I'm not great but at least I can just about keep up with the kids, and we have great fun as a family together. The images below then are from Flaine, a Piccaso'esk sculpture and an alpine scene in a bar we often visited on the slopes. 

Above and below, just beside the slopes, artist unknown. 

Uk: Seeking Art on Lockdown : 12/04/2020

Swiss Alps  2020

Bicicleta Semfreio (Brazil)

I'm a huge fan of street art and graffiti, and on a grand scale it feels that much more striking and alive set against the backdrop of mountains. Swiss resort of Crans-Montana in Canton Valais, the Swiss Alps, play hosts to The Vision Art Festival : Taking urban art to new heights. Here are a few of my favourites, follow the links for more alpine art and info. 

Okuda San Miguel (Spain)  

Twoone /Hiroyasu Tsuri (Japan)

Fanakapan (UK) 

Vision Art Festival Artist link

Street Alps Instagram link.

Swiss Alps throwback to : 1920s 

Other than street art and expensive gallery - worldwide art I didn't find much in regards to contemporary painting originating from the alpine regions but I did find the wonderful artwork of a German expressionist painter, Ernst Ludwig Kirchner. He was the founding member of a group of artists from Dresden who called themselves Die Brücke - The Bridge. They saw themselves as bridges, bridging the gap between the art of old and their new art of expression, inspired by the words of  by Fredrich Nietzsche who said: 

'What is great in man is that he is a bridge, not a goal.'

Bridge at Wiesen : Kirchner 

Sertig Valley in Autumn : Kirchner

Sertig Valley : Kirchner

0: Africa : Nigeria : Lagos / UK : London in Lockdown 05 / 04 / 2020

UK Lockdown : 05 / 04 / 2020

While I didn't really catch any art on my visit to Lagos and Abuja in 2001/2, surfing the internet in UK lockdown 2020, I've found some interesting finds. I started my search on street art and found Eko Tag, a community putting up monuments around Lagos most recently they have worked with the artist Osa Seven, working on his mural at Ozumba Mbadiwe  as part of the Lagos@50 celebration. 

'In constant pursuit to change the African narrative towards street art and Art in Public Space.' Osa Seven 

To see more of Osa's work visit his insta here. 

Osa Seven 

Osa Seven Mural at Ozuma Mbadiwe 

******

Laolu Senbanjo

Another artist whose work I found and love is Laolu Senbanjo. He gave up his job as a human- rights lawyer in Nigeria to move to New York in 2013 to follow his dream of being an artist. He was a struggling immigrant artist - and then Beyonce called. His work is detailed, tribal , urban and political while using everything as his canvas. For more visit Laolu's insta here. 

Read Laolu Senbanjo Cosmopolitan interview here. 

@cosmopolitan share his story my story

Read Laolu Senbanjo Cosmopolitan interview here. 

Amerikkka is to guns as Mary is to Jesus. 

He says: 

It’s easier to ban books in America than it is to ban guns. 

In America there are 89 guns for every 100 people. 

More than 36,000 Americans were victims of firearm-related deaths in 2015. 

Gun-related deaths are now the third leading cause of death of American children. 

Every day, 7 children are killed and 12 more are injured with a gun. 

In 2018 calendar year we've seen 307 mass shootings. 

The 2nd Amendment gives American citizens the right to bear arms. However, is this really necessary? Are we at war? Yes, we are. We are at war with gun violence. How many more Mothers have to lose their children before the constitution changes?

As an Artist I cannot be silent. Your silence means acquiescence. Be the voice for those who don't have one . Education shouldn't mean sacrificing your child.

“African art is not just what you buy at Harlem market in New York, every piece of art you see has a story, and every artist has a name.”

-Laolu Senbanjo “Africa” 

******

Marcellina Oseghale Akpojotor

An amazing Nigerian women, is the artist  Marcellina Akpojotor  who has just recently exhibited @relegallery Young Contemporaries Alumni . Her technique is beautifully delicate, her figures are created from collaged pieces of vibrantly coloured and patterned Ankara fabric manipulated and mixed together to create her figures . Her subject matter is often of family and friends while capturing intimate moments, reflecting society around her.

Visit here to see more of Marcella's art work. 

Closing the gap

Kesiena's Diary by Marcellina Akpojotor 

"Trust the process as it is certain to birth new discoveries."

All in the detail

******

Chris Ofili.

Chris Ofili is a British born Turner Prize (1998) winning artist with Nigerian parents. He is best known for incorporating elephant dung within his paintings and was one of the Young British Artists. He has worked and lived between London and Brooklyn but since 2005 he's resides in Trinidad. 

My favourite examples of Chris Ofili's artwork are on a previous post. 

To see a previous post of Chris Ofili's Upper room at the Victoria Miro Gallery 2002, follow this link

The most current and poignant artwork I can find of his today is his 2020 official poster for the Tokyo Olympics, 'The Games People Play', depicting two figures merging into each other. I've also included his 2012 poster for the London Olympics , 'For the Unknown Runner'.

Question is will the Olympics go ahead? 

Will the go ahead with closed doors?

Today, nobody knows what will happen.  

******

Yinka Shonibare

Yinka Shonibare a British - Nigerian artist, born in London moving to Lagos aged 3 and then back to the UK to study, and later become a Royal Acadamian. His artwork explores cultural identity, colonialism and post-colonialism within the context of globalisation. His work is mostly recognised by his use of brightly coloured Ankara fabric also known as Holland or Dutch wax fabric. The fabric was originally made in Holland for the textile market but became primarily recognised to be associated with Africa because of it's tribal like patterns and motifs. Yinka Shonibare's use of the fabric enhances his political commentary on the relationships between Africa and Europe, of their economical and political histories. 

Yinka Shonibare

Cake Man II, 2014: Photo: Stephen White

‘I see what’s happening as an African renaissance’ - Yinka Shonibare

How to Blow Up Two Heads at Once (Ladies), 2006 :  Yinka Shonibare   Photo: Stephen White

Yinka Shonibare : Guest Artists Space Foundation : GAS

While searching for more on Yinka I found his foundation that he has recently set up called, 

The Guest Artist's Space Foundation / GAS.

In the magazine the The Face, Yinka Shonibare says: 

“[Guest Artists Space Foundation] won’t just contribute to the Nigerian art scene, it will contribute to the British art scene and the American art scene too.”

Continuing on his instagram: There is a new wave of artistic philanthropy models in Africa, wherecelebrated artists wish to ‘give back’ and to support artists from the continent. 

Yinka Shonibare has launched the development of his new artist residency @gasfoundation, that is dedicated to facilitate international artistic and cultural exchange and developing creative practices. Additionally, @shonibarestudio has created the private Ecology Green Farm in a rural town outside of Lagos. This farm supports the local ecosystem, by contributing to food security, creating jobs and boosting the local economy. “Shonibare is aware of and sympathetic to the challenges faced by artists everywhere (especially on the African continent) on their journey to recognition and success, and his initiative will have enormous impact on the future of the African art scene.”

I'm so excited to have found this, it truly is a fantastic project connecting art for a great cause worldwide. In connecting and sharing cultural differences and knowledge and cultural identities and experiences  art becomes the foundation of communication  Beyond Isolation  I hope to see this grow, strength to strength. I'll return in the future for an update, meanwhile check out the links after the photos. 

Take a look at these links, they are well worth a visit. 

The Yinka Shonibare Foundation, web link 

Yank Shonibare Studio : Instagram link 

GAS Foundation / Guest Artists Space Foundation : Instagram link 

THE FACE :Art & vegetables in Lagos with Yinka Shonibare, interview here.

0: Africa : Lagos 04 / 05 / 2001, Abuja 20 / 04 / 2002, 03 / 08 /2002

Nigeria : Lagos : 04/ 05/ 2001

At last I've moved on from the UK but we are still on the same time zone of GMT.

I have never experienced such chaos, in the pouring rain with mud everywhere. I could imagine a mud slide or some sort of horrific traffic accident any moment, but luckily it never happened. We try to get across a roundabout, which is usually a couple of cars deep, but today it seems to have doubled as 4 or 5 cars deep struggle across the grass verge, like ants finding their ways the road disappears. In between the cars people are hustling trying their luck at selling anything they can, most of which appears delicately presented on a large tray, carefully balanced perfectly, effortless on each head. Strangely the rain doesn't seem to make any difference; there are eggs which could have been fresh or hard boiled ready to eat, little deserts and sumptuous looking and smelling fruit, a real feast,  all ready and available at a bargain price.

The following day I was relieved to see the sunshine, I couldn't imagine there was much to do otherwise. The pool was nice and relaxing, that is when you are able to shut out the cry of the squeaking black ravens that seem to be competing against screaming kids. The lizard   gecko creatures are brightly coloured about the length of a foot, they bob their heads up and down, similar to the tacky noddy headed dogs occasionally seen on the dashboard or back of a car. They are top entertainment, each a character to their own, they either jig like they are rapping or are totally chilled out, horizontal and smooth. I think their favourite past time is sunbathing, or maybe they are just making fun of us.

The disadvantages of being in Lagos (It takes first place in the dreaded crew list of not wanting to go to) aren't as bad as I had expected after hearing nothing but complaints. So without much to do I thought I'd summarise my experience.

The initial flight - the journey to get there is exhausting. Strangely the flights to Lagos are extremely lucrative, by the end of the flight almost every item has gone, leaving the bar and dusty free trolleys bare. At the hotel the electrics definitely have a mind of its own, buzzing away where you can almost imagine someone is winding an ancient key. On a regular basis the electrics usually cut out, to which you have to wait any specific amount of time, sometimes it's an hour, but usually it's something between a couple, to twenty minutes until the full force of the generators kick in and take over. The worst time this happens is while having a shower. It's awkward in the dark and pretty uncomfortable when the water goes from luke warm to ice cold. Then there is water, which runs a muddy brown. The food was dull and the rooms felt damp and mouldy as the sheets were wet as if they had just been rung out.

All these issues were nothing, just niggles as my worst complaints had to be for the mosquitoes. I think the damp bed was at an ideal temperature to create a perfect breading ground. It was of no help getting so many bites, I counted 53 bites on one leg and 62 on the other with a few extras scattered about my body, to say the least the mosquitoes had a jolly good feast on me. These strains of insect have obviously got the better of human technology, as I'm sure the aid of a repellent stick and spray did the opposite to it's claim working like a magnet to attract as many bugs as possible. The old wives tale didn't work either, as I ate almost a whole pot of marmite. The problem with the mosquito bites were not so much the itching or irritation, but more as a trigger racing my mind into panic. I became a bundle of nerves, due to the potential malaria risks. The strength of the imagination in certain situations can diffuse the boundaries of real and unreal. My mind raced wild, I somehow believed that I had caught malaria and started to experience phantom symptoms due to my over worked imagination and anxiety. I felt nauseous, dizzy and had the shakes. Of course I was very relieved that I hadn't caught malaria after all, all the same I was hoping that I wouldn't be returning anytime soon.

Nigeria : Abuja 20/04/2002

Abuja is considered the financial or 'new' capital of Lagos and on the way to the hotel you could see the beginning of new big developments rising, the largest looking like an impressive, large stadium. At the hotel the back-drop view is of a large mound, reminding me of Table Mountain in Cape Town, but this was in miniature and not so flat on top. I hate to admit but after Lagos I wasn't expecting much, mostly worried about getting bitten and not wanting to become so paranoid again. As for the food, I was pleasantly surprised. Everything seemed quite nice, it felt like a well kept secret, more like a mini break holiday than work. The weather was lovely, very hot at a good 40 degrees and once again you meet the cute gecko type lizards that bob their heads up and down to their imaginary beat, while scurrying under your feet in the hope of catching some food.

The hotel was kitted out in a time warp taking you back to the glamour of a seventies nightclub. I was on the brown floor, I heard that others were on green, turquoise or orange floors, which was indicated in the carpets, room decor and bathroom suits. Large diagonal stripes lead me to a bathroom in grades of beige to dark chocolate brown. Above there's a mirrored panelling tinted in rich gold. A little tacky, like you might find in a cruise ship's cabaret or casino.

photo credit:  tour2nigeria 

Unfortunately I didn't take the opportunity to do much exploring, I got as far as the local craft market outside the hotel. The market composed of eight little huts which opened into a circular room where items were sold. Mostly there was carvings made from wood or soapstone as well as chessboard sets and the sculptures and a bit of chintz. Inside were rows ands rows of items to sell, all coated with an inch or so of dust that had accumulated throughout the years. Hidden away I was delighted to have found myself an authentic - old mask, calved with an almond face set into a soft heart (As above) With a raindrop on her forehead I wonder if she is Oshun, the Mother of the African sweet or fresh waters. Osun is the Goddess of Love and is widely beloved.

That evening was like being on holiday except you were with people you had never met, taking the place of place of family and friends. We sat by the pool bar drinking pinacoladas. One crew member held up a statue he was told was the God of Thunder, liking the thought he bought it as a souvenir and worshipped it in mockery. I'm sure that was why an electrical tropical storm appeared out of nowhere. There was tremendously load thunder and electric fork-lightening that brightened up the dark sky, while the rain had the same force as a power shower. As long as I wasn't getting wet I really loved it, it was so atmospheric, it felt like we were living inside a nostalgic film. (Albeit an Agatha Christie, Murder Mystery) We had a great dinner, a Mongolian on the restaurant balcony where we concocted all sorts.

Nigeria : Abuja : 3/08/2002

Well what can I say, not quite the same type of place when you are stuck for four days solid in the pouring rain. I was quite lucky as I had brought some painting to do. A flow of waves which was waiting for a top layer, a tedious effort of detail in tooth picked dots, merging mixed tones of aquamarine, turquoise and green. It felt amazing as my 'suite', or shell of a room was formica deep turquoise , so every colour matched and blended in - not necessarily in a way that I liked though. With little to do I spent my time painting and watching Discovery Channel on loop, not too bad but I was missing the expected sun. Other crew were less fortunate, Michelle being the least as she was welcomed by twelve cockroaches, on, in and surrounding her bed, only to be told sorry there are no other rooms available, yikes! Room service was another waste of time and effort, I was fortunate, Jayne was not, it took 2 and a half hours to get what she finally ordered, third call lucky. It's expensive here too, £3 for a Diet Coke. The Mongolian buffet was not quite as effective this time round with 15 of us all at the same time, not really worth the bother. But the evening ended well with a live band singing all the old diva classics to which we all sang and danced along to.