Godfried Donkor
A Painter That Happens to Make Collages
(first published on Africanah on 5 September 2018)
A new contemporary ‘African’ art exhibition opened at MAXXI, the National Museum of Art of the XXI century, in Rome early this summer. African Metropolis. An Imaginary City aims to ‘highlights the beauty and the contradictions of the cities and the world of today’. Another exhibition to add to the roaster of, exclusively ‘African’ art exhibitions that have been happening for the past years, and once more, Simon Njami is behind the direction of the project.
The First Day of the Yam Custom, 1817 (detail), 2017. Source: Gallery 1957.
Having significantly been exposed to contemporary ‘African’ arts for the past five years, the narrative of this type of shows does not interest me much anymore. However, there are two things of importance with occasion of African Metropolis: first, the art exhibited itself. Simon Njami always surround himself by his, undoubtedly virtuous, quadrille of artists, and is always worth to see their work individually; and second, the fact that the exhibition takes place in a society well known by its continuous racist attacks. Indeed, only a few days after the opening of African Metropoli in Rome, the Italian athlete of Nigerian parents, Daisy Osakue was attacked in Turin.
I have not had the opportunity of visiting the exhibition in Rome. Yet, in the middle of the arrangements for his forthcoming participation in the Kampala Biennale and 1:54 London, I met Godfried Donkor, one of the exhibited artists at African Metropolis, to talk about Rome, art, and racism.
I agreed to meet Godfried outside Brixton station in South London, the neighbourhood where I used to live over a year ago. I found him outside the station, dressing sport gear and with an amicable smile. We head off to the Nero café on the top floor of the Morleys department store. Opened in 1880 under the name of Morley & Lanceley, it remains as one of the few places that have survived the gentrification and consequent hypsteristisation process of the area. Godfried’s studio, unfortunately or fortunately as he states, has not.
Series Olympians, 2018. Source: Deskgram
RVP: There are many of us, slightly younger than you that are in the midst of creating our careers within the not-so-easy art world. You are a model of searching yourself and re-defining yourself. How was this process?
GD: It is a process that I think I’m still going through. I don’t think one ever stops. It fascinates me the notion that you can spend your whole lifetime seeking to know about your work. Back in the day I would read about Matisse. Matisse was 80 and he couldn’t stand up to paint, he was lying down and painting with a stick… then he said: now I know how to paint. At 80!! To us, he was doing a masterpiece that we all think was brilliant! However, he only acknowledged mastering the technique 50 years later.
When you finish Art School, you don’t know anything about your work. When you are in your mid-career you don’t know anything about your work. Then at the end of your career, then you start to know, if you are lucky. So I’m always discovering myself, and every project that I do is a new experience I’ve never done so I’m learning something.
RVP: Your work makes use of numerous historical references, as well as iconic characters. Would you say that your work functions as mean for re-creating black history and re-telling it?
GD: I think as an artist, I re-create history full stop. Not just black history because I don’t think black history is separate from the rest’s history. The work that I make is part from English history, is not just of black history. It is reciprocal. Histories are entwined.
RVP: But there has been and still are a power relations and how the history has been told, and I think these need to be taken into account. I can recall the project that you made for the 1957 Gallery in Accra last year. The show was inspired by an image part of Thomas Bowdich’s Mission from Cape Coast Castle to Ashantee book that you came across with whilst studying at SOAS. That was the perspective of a white British ‘explorer’. How would it have been represented if a Ghanaian person had been given the chance of illustrating the festival for later generations? How would it had been told?
GD: I saw this image ‘The First Day of the Yam Custom’ when I was at SOAS in 1995, and ever since I had wanted to re-create the image. In my head, I had re-created and re-created, and only in 2017 I managed to work on it. The image was published first time in 1819. I was recreating it 200 years after.
Yes, we need to take into account the politics of who tells the story. As an artist, I know I can re-imagine stories if I want, and it is up to me how do I re-imagine it, and by re-imagining it, I bring something new into it. I’ve taken it out of the context of 200 years ago. 200 years after the original, the whole layout and meaning of the image changes, and that’s fascinates me. The fact that art that we are making now, will change in context in 20-30-50 years from now. Art changes its context all the time.
Series Olympians, 2017. Source: Nofi
RVP: Tell us about the works exhibited at African Metropolis at MAXXI in Rome
GD: The works exhibited at MAXXI are part of a larger series of 18 artworks so far. In particular, the ones at MAXXI explore the Senegalese culture of wrestling and its history in Senegal. It is a sport, but is a ritual. I’ve been fascinated by the Senegalese wrestling for about 20 years, since I first went to Dakar. One of the things that attracts me the most, is the combination of two elements: the fact that these are sports people who are physically fit, and how spiritual and superstitious they are; indeed, they have a spiritual leader that makes for them like a potion to make them even stronger. They believe that their skill is not enough, they need something else, and guidance from God that gives them the extra thing they need to win. The whole event is about performance, is about spirituality, is about dance, about music, is not just about wrestling, and that is what I find fascinating. It talks about the rituality of human interaction.
RVP: What’s your take in these exhibitions, which only show artists of Africa or of African descent? How do you feel about the label/category?
GD: I think these exhibitions contribute towards de-exoticising African arts. I’m not too preoccupied with it. I don’t look for exhibitions; I work with curators or historians that invite me to do certain things and if like their practise I will do it. I’m not sure what this will mean for the history of art in the long run though.
RVP: I wanted to touch upon the recent events that happened in Italy involving racist acts towards the Italian athlete Daisy Osawkue attacked on the 30th July. Just after the opening of African Metropolis.
GD: Is very interesting the situation in Italy. I was an artist resident in the Bellagio Centre in Milan. Whilst I was there, I saw thousands of African kids who were part of a refugee programme. Most of them were in the streets, jobless, some were begging… you realise that there is an issue there. In fact, my proposal for the residency had to do with historical movement of people in Europe. I was working on images of medieval coat of arms that had Africans on it, and they are from Europe. So I was doing a study of these guys, you see them in the squares in Milan, in the train stations, and eventually you see them outside clubs as security guards or in department stores. This is a process of transition, a process of movement of people. Europe has always had this issue, banishing people from Europe, or Europeans going elsewhere. The work I’m doing with the coat of arms, for me is a visual recreation of going back to 1400 and finding out why there were African within Europeans’ coat of arms, what is the link, and look at what is happening now and why is that?