Sanaa Mtaani|Art in the City

Philipp Günther, Stefanie Habben, Michau Kühn, Anna Lafrentz, Sabrina Loll, Nadine Lorenz, Isabella Schulz
Sanaa Mtaani|Art in the City
Einblicke in die gegenwärtige Kunst Nairobis
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Philipp Günther, Stefanie Habben, Michau Kühn, Anna Lafrentz, Sabrina Loll, Nadine Lorenz, Isabella Schulz
Sanaa Mtaani|Art in the City
Einblicke in die gegenwärtige Kunst Nairobis
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Impressum
Herausgeber*innen:
Philipp Günther, Stefanie Habben,
Michau Kühn, Anna Lafrentz, Sabrina Loll,
Nadine Lorenz, Isabella Schulz
Titel:
Sanaa Mtaani - Art in the City
Einblicke in die gegenwärtige Kunst Nairobis
Satz und Layout:
Andreas Paul Schulz/kellerkunst
Umschlagentwurf:
Andreas Paul Schulz/kellerkunst
unter Verwendung einer Fotocollage
von Sabrina Loll
Druck im Selbstverlag bei
Kastner & Callwey Medien GmbH, Forstinning
ISBN 978-3-00-046313-6
© 2014 alle Rechte vorbehalten
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Kontakt:
info@sanaamtaani.org
Team:
Anna - anna@sanaamtaani.org
Philipp - philipp@sanaamtaani.org
Sabrina - sabrina@sanaamtaani.org
Michau - michau@sanaamtaani.org
Inhaltsverzeichnis
Interview Sylvia Gichia......................................................
Gichia ..................................................... 22
24
Interview Jackie Karuti.
Karuti ..................................................... 26
28
Interview Dickson Kalokia................................................
Kalokia ............................................... 30
32
Interview Dennis Muraguri
Muraguri.............................................
.......................................... 100
98
Interview Uhuru Brown...................................................
Brown .................................................. 104
106
Interview Bankslave.
Bankslave......................................................... 116
118
Interview Anthony Wanjau.
Wanjau.............................................. 34
36
Statement Tonney Mugo
Mugo...................................................
.................................................. 44
46
Vorwort .....................................................................................4
Vorwort.
....................................................................................6
Interview Fred Abuga........................................................
Abuga ....................................................... 46
48
Auf der Suche nach Kunst in der Stadt........................
Stadt ....................... 10
12
Interview Cyrus Kabiru.
Kabiru .......................................................
................................................... 48
50
Kunstkarte Nairobi..............................................................
Nairobi ............................................................. 14
16
Interview Patrick Mukabi.
Mukabi ................................................. 56
58
5O Jahre Kunst in Nairobi.
Nairobi................................................ 16
18
Interview Omosh Kindeh.
Kindeh .................................................. 60
62
Kunst, Ort und Kontext.
Kontext ......................................................
.................................................... 38
40
Interview Rosemary Ahono..............................................
Ahono ............................................. 68
70
„Findings? Exploring Nairobi“.
Nairobi“......................................... 52
54
Interview Beth Kimwele....................................................
Kimwele ................................................... 72
74
Gedanken über Reisebilder.
Reisebilder.............................................. 92
94
Statement Thobias Minzi.
Minzi.................................................. 76
78
Die Sprühdose als Megaphon........................................
Megaphon ....................................... 110
112
Interview Florence Wangui..............................................
Wangui ............................................. 78
80
Aspekte nairobianischerKunstproduktion..................
nairobianischerKunstproduktion ................. 142
144
Interview Sydney Mangongo...........................................
Mangongo .......................................... 82
84
Im Dunst einer Stadt.
Stadt........................................................ 166
168
Interview Savoiur Omondi................................................
Omondi ............................................... 84
86
Weiterlesen ......................................................................... 188
Weiterlesen..........................................................................
190
Interview Massai Mbili......................................................
Mbili ..................................................... 86
88
Danksagungen ................................................................... 189
Danksagungen....................................................................
191
Interview Shine Tani.
Tani........................................................ 148
150
Interview Rahab Shine.
Jenbi ......................................................
.................................................. 152
154
Interview Hassan/M-Stic.
Hassan/M-Stic ................................................ 126
128
Interview Kombe Kithi und Reuben Mangi...............
Mangi .............. 130
132
Impression von Sabrina Loll.............................................
Loll ............................................ 64
56
Interview Tabu Osusa......................................................
Osusa ..................................................... 134
136
Impression von Stefanie Habben....................................
Habben ................................... 96
98
Impression von Philipp Günther.
Günther................................... 124
126
Interview Joel Lukhovi.
Lukhovi.................................................... 156
158
Impression von Anna Lafrentz......................................
Lafrentz ..................................... 140
142
Interview Ross
Peter Franks.
Ross .......................................................
..................................................... 162
164
Impression von Isabella Schulz.
Schulz..................................... 154
156
Interview Sarika Hemi Lakhani.....................................
Lakhani .................................... 172
174
Impression von Michau ..................................................
Kühn ....................................... 180
182
Interview Hawa Essuman...............................................
Essuman .............................................. 176
178
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Vorwort
Preface
Sanaa Mtaani – Art in the City
Sanaa Mtaani – Art in the City
Während eines Aufenthaltes in Nairobi, Kenia, haben im Dezember 2013 sieben Studierende aus Deutschland eine Vielzahl an
Bild- und Tonmaterial aus den Bereichen Visuelle Kunst, Street Art,
Musik, Fotografie, Kunsthandwerk und Film in Kooperation mit kenianischen Kunstschaffenden zusammengetragen. Unter dem Titel
Sanaa Mtaani – Kunst in der Stadt sollte ein Katalog entstehen, der
einen facettenreichen Einblick in die gegenwärtige Kunstszene der
ostafrikanischen Metropole ermöglicht. Der vorliegende Katalog ist
das Produkt eines stipendiatischen Projektes der Hans-Böckler-Stiftung.
During a stay in Nairobi, Kenya in December 2013, seven
students from Germany cooperated with Kenyan artists to collect a variety of visual and audio material within the scope of
visual art, street art, music, photography, handcrafts and film.
The idea was to create a catalogue named Sanaa Mtaani – Art
in the City and to provide an insight of the multifaceted contemporary art scene of the East African cultural centre. Beyond
that the project aimed to contrast “African art” stereotypes
with the actual local situation. This catalogue is a scholarshipbased project of the Hans Böckler foundation.
Entstehung
Origin
Die Projektinitiatorin Anna Lafrentz knüpfte 2012 während eines
Praktikums bei der Organisation „Arterial Network“ erste Kontakte
zu Kunstschaffenden in Nairobi. Angeregt durch die Erfahrungen im
Praktikum entstanden hier erste Fragestellungen zur Wahrnehmung
zeitgenössischer Kunst im interkulturellen Vergleich. Im Mittelpunkt
standen Fragen nach dem Stellenwert von Kunst in Kenia, den jeweiligen Akteur*innen, Rezipient*innen und Konsument*innen. Die
Vielfalt der aufkommenden Fragen ließ die Idee entstehen, sich innerhalb eines Projektes vertiefend mit der gegenwärtigen Kunst in
Kenia, ihren Strömungen, Motiven und Rezeptionen zu beschäftigen.
Unter dem Arbeitstitel „Kunst in Kenia“ reichten Anna Lafrentz und
Stefanie Habben im Frühjahr 2013 einen Förderantrag bei der Stipendiatischen Projektkommission der Hans-Böckler-Stiftung ein. Mit
dessen Bewilligung konnte die Projektidee in die Tat umgesetzt werden und mit fünf weiteren Studierenden haben sie dem Vorhaben ab
diesem Zeitpunkt gemeinsam Leben eingehaucht. Die durch sie vertretenen Fachrichtungen Afrikawissenschaften (Michau Kühn), Geographische Entwicklungsforschung Afrikas (Isabella Schulz), Intermediale Kunsttherapie (Sabrina Loll), Transkulturelle Studien (Philipp
The initiator of the project, Anna Lafrentz completed an
internship at the organisation “Arterial Network” in 2012 during which she established contacts with local Nairobi artists.
The idea of perceiving contemporary art within an intercultural
comparison originated from this internship experience and the
major issue focused on the social value of art in Kenya, its actors, recipients and consumers. The range of emerging issues
resulted in the idea to enlarge the topic of contemporary art in
Kenya, its movements, motives and perception. Anna Lafrentz
and Stefanie Habben submitted an application titled “Art in
Kenya” in spring 2013 for the project committee of the Hans
Böckler foundation. The approval of this application made it
possible to put the idea into action and together with five other
students they got to work on the project from that moment.
The different fields of study significantly shaped the project
and were represented by African studies (Michau Kühn), African development studies in geography (Isabella Schulz), intermedian art therapy (Sabrina Loll), transcultural studies (Philipp
Günther), social work (Nadine Lorenz), art and cultural edu-
Günther), Soziale Arbeit (Nadine Lorenz), Kunst- und Kulturvermittlung (Anna Lafrentz) und Medien- und Kommunikationswissenschaft
(Stefanie Habben) formten die Ausgestaltung des Projektes maßgeblich. Die inhaltliche und formale Umsetzung wurde mit abgeschlossener Gruppenfindung ein Produkt gemeinsamer Entscheidungen.
Eine Vielzahl an individuellen Fachgebieten, Vorstellungen, Ideen
und Überzeugungen mündeten in einen langwierigen und herausfordernden Prozess, der uns alle bis zur Entstehung des Kataloges
und darüber hinaus prägte. Gespräche, Diskussionen und Aushandlungen über Inhalte und Darstellung des Projektes bestimmten die
Vor- und Nachbereitungen sowie die Reise selbst. Der vorliegende
Katalog ist allen voran ein Produkt dieser essentiellen und permanenten Aushandlungsprozesse. Deren Inhalte werden deshalb auch
im folgendem Abschnitt zur Projektausgestaltung an entsprechender
Stelle erwähnt.
Das Projekt war in drei Phasen gegliedert: der vorbereitenden
Einführungsphase in Deutschland, der Zeit des Aufenthaltes in Nairobi und der Nachbereitung der Reise mit anschließender Katalogerstellung.
cation (Anna Lafrentz) and media and communication studies
(Stefanie Habben). The content and form of implementation
was a product of group findings and mutual decisions. Coming
from professional backgrounds, all of us were faced with quite
a number of different ideas and opinions which resulted in a
challenging, lengthy process which shaped us until the final
draft of the catalogue and beyond. Conversations, discussions
and negotiations about form and content determined the entire
journey right through from preparation to the follow up stage.
The current catalogue is first and foremost a result of those
essential and ongoing negotiation processes. Therefore its contents will be analysed in the following paragraph concerning
the project‘s design.
The project was divided into three phases: The preparatory
introduction phase in Germany, the actual stay in Nairobi and
the follow-up of the journey which was followed by creating
the catalogue.
Ausgestaltung
Phase one included the organisational and theoretical preparation of the trip. As we took a critical approach to the work
title “Art in Kenya”, we moved the focus from art in Kenya in
general to art in Nairobi. Drawing conclusions on art in one entire country based on just one single journey is hardly possible
and the reason for why we narrowed the topic‘s scope. This
lead us to the new name of the project called Sanaa Mtaani- Art
in the City and its main objective, a commentary on Nairobi‘s
art scene in extracts. ‘Sanaa Mtaani’ is Swahili for ‘art in the
city’. It was very important to us to include Kenya’s languages
in the title, thus making it trilingual: Swahili, as the national
language; English, as the official language; and finally German,
as our native tongue. It was our objective to examine extracts
of Nairobi’s contemporary art scene to replace German stereotypes of “African art” by authentic impressions of the East
African art production.
The main aim of Sanaa Mtaani was to provide a broad approach to various facets of art in Nairobi. We were interested
in both public and private actors in the field of art, as well
Die erste Phase umfasste die inhaltliche und organisatorische Vorbereitung der Reise. Auf Grund einer kritischen Auseinandersetzung mit
dem Arbeitstitel „Kunst in Kenia“ erfolgte hier gleich zu Beginn die Verschiebung des Schwerpunktes von Kunst in Kenia allgemein hin zu Kunst
in Nairobi. Der Grund hierfür war die Unmöglichkeit, mittels einer Reise
nach Nairobi einen Anspruch auf Vollständigkeit zu erheben um somit
Rückschlüsse auf die Kunst im gesamten Land ziehen zu können. Damit einhergehend entstand der neue Titel des Projektes: Sanaa Mtaani
– Kunst in der Stadt. ‚Sanaa Mtaani‘ ist Swahili und die Übersetzung von
‚Kunst in der Stadt‘. Es war uns wichtig, die Sprachen Kenias auch in
den Titel aufzunehmen, wodurch er dreisprachig wurde. Swahili als Landessprache, Englisch als weitere Amtssprache und Deutsch als unsere
eigene Sprache.
Unsere Zielstellung war, die aktuelle Kunstszene in Nairobi ausschnittartig zu beleuchten. Ein weiterer wichtiger Bestandteil des Projektes war
ferner der Wunsch durch unsere Einblicke in die Kunstproduktion der
ostafrikanischen Metropole stereotype Bilder und Assoziationen zu „afrika-
Design
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nischer Kunst“ in Deutschland mit bestehenden Bildern zu konfrontieren.
Vorrangige Absicht von Sanaa Mtaani war es, einen breiten
Zugang zu verschiedenen Facetten von Kunst in Nairobi zu ermöglichen. Dabei interessierten uns sowohl staatliche als auch private
Akteur*innen im Verantwortungsbereich für Kunst, aber auch kleinere Vereine und individuelle Künstler*innenbiografien. Mit Hilfe
von Interviews, Galeriebesuchen, Stadtrundgängen, Reisetagebüchern etc. sollte ein multiperspektivischer Zugang zu verschiedenen
Facetten von Kunst in Nairobi ermöglicht werden. Leitend waren
Fragen nach aktuellen Formen bzw. Strömungen, Motiven und Rezeptionen von Kunst. Darüber hinaus interessierten uns der Einfluss
der Großstadt Nairobi auf die Kunstschaffenden und deren Werke,
sowie die gesellschaftliche Wirkung von Kunst in Verbindung mit
der Frage nach deren emanzipatorischer oder politischer Funktion.
Um ein möglichst großes Spektrum an gegenwärtiger Kunst aufzeigen
zu können, bildeten wir Kleingruppen mit inhaltlichen Schwerpunkten. Es erfolgte eine interessengeleitete Aufteilung in die Themenbereiche: Visuelle Kunst, Street Art, Musik, Fotografie, Kunsthandwerk
und Film.
Neben der inhaltlichen Ausgestaltung des Aufenthaltes vor Ort,
arbeiteten wir uns in historisch, kulturell und politisch relevante Themen der Reise ein. Angestoßen durch die Gegebenheit als rein weiße, privilegierte Gruppe nach Nairobi zu fliegen, begann ein fortwährender Reflexionsprozess über die gesellschaftspolitische Dimension
dieser Reise. Mit dem ersten Treffen begann eine kritische Auseinandersetzung über unsere eigene Rolle und individuelle Verhaltensweisen in Bezug auf postkoloniale Fragestellungen. Beispielhaft waren
hier Diskussionen über Begrifflichkeiten wie das Eigene, das Fremde und das Andere. Die Frage nach der Relevanz dieser Konstruktionen für die Ausbildung von Identität wurde hier betrachtet, sowie
die mit den jeweiligen Begriffen einhergehenden Denkansätze und
deren Auswirkungen auf individuelle Einstellungen erörtert. Innerhalb eines eigens organisierten Workshops wurden benannte Sachverhalte vertiefend mit einer externen Referentin besprochen. Dort
wurde darüber hinaus ein sensibler Umgang in Bezug auf Fotografie
angeregt. Uns wurde bewusst, dass auch die Inhalte unserer Reisefotos stereotype Bilder rekonstruieren könnten. Ausschlaggebend für
diese intensive Auseinandersetzung war die Befürchtung, aus Un-
6
as smaller clubs and individual artists‘ biographies. By means
of interviews, gallery visits, sightseeing and travel diaries, we
tried to create a multi-perspectival view of art in Nairobi and its
diverse facets. The most leading questions were about current
trends and types, as well as motives and receptions of arts. Furthermore we tried to examine the influence Nairobi has on its
artists and their works. We were also interested in the social
impact of art related to its emancipatory and political function.
In order to demonstrate a wide range of contemporary art, we
formed small groups which focused on different topics. As a
result, we divided the groups into sub-groups of interest working on visual art, street art, music, photography, handcrafts
and film.
Apart from the elaboration of content we worked our way
into issues that were culturally, politically and historically relevant to the trip. Given the fact that we are white and privileged
people travelling to Nairobi, a process of reflection about the
socio-political dimensions of this journey began. A critical look
at our own role and individual behaviour relating to postcolonial issues had begun with the first meeting. We conducted discussions, for example, on concepts of “familiar”, “foreign” and
“different”. We considered and discussed the relevance of those
concepts with respect to developing an individual identity and
their effects on personal attitudes. We worked on the issues
mentioned before within our self-organized workshop together
with an external advisor and discussed them in greater detail.
In addition to other things, this is where a sensitive approach to photography began. We became aware of the fact
that the content of our own photos might be reproducing stereotypes as well. Originating from a lack of knowledge, we were
afraid to unintentionally continue structural historic continuities and therefore discussed this issue quite intensively.
We explicitly intended to break down stereotypes and wanted to avoid propagating generalised and offensive stereotyping by writing about “Africa” as privileged Whites. However,
the debates caused confusion which specifically affected the
trip and resulted in the following questions: When am I allowed to photograph what in which way in the city? And how
wissenheit unbeabsichtigt geschichtsstrukturelle Kontinuitäten aufzunehmen und fortzuschreiben. Unser Wunsch war es ja gerade mit
stereotypen Bildern zu brechen und nicht das Fortschreiben rassistischer Kontinuitäten, indem wir als privilegierte Weiße über „Afrika“
schreiben. Dennoch führte die Auseinandersetzung auch zu Verunsicherungen, die konkrete Auswirkungen auf die Reise hatten. Wann
kann ich wie und was in der Stadt fotografieren? Und was bewirkt
dieses Bild bei späteren Betrachter*innen? Doch sollte diese Verunsicherung nicht in Resignation umschlagen, sondern als Aufforderung
verstanden werden, sich der Problematik noch mehr anzunehmen.
Eine wichtige Erkenntnis war, dass die Verunsicherung nicht dazu
führen sollte, sich nicht mit postkolonialen Themen zu beschäftigen.
Viel nützlicher schien die Sicht auf postkoloniale Fragestellungen als
einen gegenseitigen und andauernden Prozess, der im globalen Austausch individuelle Lebenswelten zugänglich macht und somit gegenseitiges Verständnis fördert.
Diese Fragestellungen wirkten sich deutlich auf die Umsetzung
von Sanaa Mtaani aus. Wir entschieden uns bewusst dafür, den im
Katalog verfügbaren Platz den Kunstschaffenden selbst zu übergeben
und sie persönlich für sich sprechen zu lassen. Anstatt das wir über
die Kunst in Nairobi berichten, fiel die Wahl gezielt auf die Methode
des Interviews, um diesen Anspruch umzusetzen. Dennoch prägten
unsere persönlichen Erwartungshorizonte und individuellen Erfahrungen selbstverständlich Fragestellungen und Vorgehensweisen.
Umsetzung
Im Dezember 2013 flogen wir für 10 Tage nach Nairobi,
Kenia. Wir hatten im Vorfeld durch bestehende Kontakte und mit
Hilfe sozialer Netzwerke bereits vereinzelt Kontakt zu Kunstschaffenden vor Ort hergestellt. Angekommen in Nairobi war unser erster Anlaufpunkt das Kuona Trust - Centre for Visual Arts In Kenya.
Als Insel inmitten der Großstadt können sich hier Künstler*innen
in deren Räumlichkeiten einmieten und abseits des Trubels persönlichen Projekten verschiedener Couleur nachgehen. Weiterhin
gibt es Ausstellungen, Bildungsangebote, Workshops und vieles
mehr, was die Bedeutung des Kuona Trust als Plattform für Kunst
und Kreativität unterstreicht. Eine Vielzahl an Begegnungen und
spannenden Interviews ereigneten sich zunächst an diesem Ort.
does it affect the viewer of the picture later on? Though this
uncertainty should not turn into resignation but should be seen
as a demand to face those issues even more intensively. A main
conclusion here was the fact that uncertainty should not result
in not dealing with postcolonial issues. It seemed much more
useful to view postcolonial questions as an interactive and ongoing process which customizes living environments in a global exchange and therefore improves mutual understanding.
Those questions had a significant effect on the creation of
Sanaa Mtaani. We deliberately decided to use the catalogue
as a possibility for artists to tell their own story instead of reporting on art in Nairobi. In order to seek objectivity we carefully chose the tools of interviewing. Needless to say that our
personal horizons of expectations and individual experiences
characterized and shaped the formulation of questions and procedures.
Performance
We went to Nairobi, Kenya in December 2013 to stay there
for ten days. By means of already existing contacts and social
networks we were able to get in touch with local artists prior
to the trip. The first stop upon our arrival in Nairobi was the
Kuona Trust - Centre for Visual Arts in Kenya. Artists were able
to rent the facilities in the centre. Functioning as an island in
the middle of a big city, this place is perfect for them to work
in various ways, far away from all the hustle and bustle. Apart
from that, there were exhibitions, education programmes, workshops and many other things that emphasised Kuona Trust‘s
focus on arts and creativity. For a start quite a number of interesting interviews and encounters came up here. Later on
we extended the network of artists in Nairobi and continued
the search within the small groups which dealt with the main
issues that were specified before. We visited Maasai Mbili, a
place for creativity and get-together in the district of Kibera and
the GoDown Arts Centre, which is a creative place for Visual
and Performance artists who do exhibitions and workshops in
the industrial part of the city as well as the Kenya National
Theatre with rehearsal rooms for beginners and professional
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Netzartig wurden von hier aus später weitere Akteur*innen der
Kunstszene Nairobis erschlossen und die Suche setzte sich in den
Kleingruppen zu den vorher festgelegten Schwerpunkten fort.
Wir besuchten daraufhin Locations wie Maasai Mbili, ein Ort für
Kreativität und Miteinander im Stadtteil Kibera, das GoDown Arts
Centre, einen kreativen Raum für Künstler*innen von Visual und
Performing Art mit Ausstellungen und Workshops im industriellen
Teil der Stadt, und das Kenya National Theatre, mit Proberäumen
für angehende oder bereits professionelle Musiker*innen. Darüber
hinaus besichtigten wir Pawa 254, ein Sozialunternehmen, welches
eine Vielzahl innovativer Kreativer unter seinem Dach beherbergt. Diverse Disziplinen wie Fotografie, Journalismus, Musik und Grafikdesign waren hier mit dem gemeinsamen Ziel vertreten, soziale Veränderungen voranzutreiben. Überall trafen wir auf eine große Diversität
an Menschen, Kunstwerken, Ideen und Geschichten an, von denen
wir oft nur minimale Ausschnitte festhalten konnten. Ähnlich dem
Licht einer Straßenlaterne, welche bestimmte Dinge beleuchtet und
andere im Dunkeln lässt, hatten wir nicht den Anspruch am Ende ein
vollendetes Bild zeichnen zu können. Wir ließen uns deshalb von der
Großstadt und zufälligen Ereignissen mitunter einfach treiben. Wichtig war uns die Individualität aller Künstler*innen und Akteur*innen
später darstellen zu können. Denn gattungs- und institutionsübergreifend waren es an erster Stelle die facettenreichen Personen, mit
ihren besonderen Geschichten, Motivationen und Zielstellungen, die
das Herzstück unserer Begegnungen ausmachten. Die Fülle des zur
Verfügung gestellten Materials, die Intensität der Gespräche und das
entgegengebrachte Vertrauen sind hier nur einige Schlagworte, die
uns in Erinnerung bleiben werden. Die letzte Herausforderung war
nun, Inhalt und Form verantwortungsbewusst zusammenzuführen.
Katalog
Die kritische Reflexion darüber, in welcher Form das erworbene Material aus Nairobi in Deutschland präsentiert werden
soll, war ein wesentlicher Bestandteil der inhaltlichen Auseinandersetzung im Vorfeld. Wir wollten gezielt stereotype Bilder
konfrontieren und zur Auseinandersetzung mit Kunst anregen.
Der Katalog umfasst mehr als 25 Interviews mit Kunstschaffenden in
den Bereichen Visuelle Kunst, Street Art, Musik, Fotografie, Kunst-
8
musicians.
We also visited Pawa 254, a charitable company which provides space for a huge number of innovative artists. Various
disciplines like photography, journalism, music and graphic
design were represented here with the same objective of working towards social change. We came across so many different
people, works of art, ideas and stories but could often present
just small parts of them. To use the metaphor of a streetlight
which illuminates certain things, whereas others remain in the
dark, we did not intend to create complete impression. This is
why we simply allowed ourselves to be carried away by the
city and unexpected events. It was very important for us to be
able to represent the artists‘ and actors‘ individuality later on.
Regardless of genre and institution, the core element of our encounters resulted mainly from the diversity of people and their
special stories, motivations and objectives. The abundance of
provided material, the wealth of information arising from the
interviews and confidence gained are just a small part of what
shall remain in our memories. The final challenge now was to
unite both content and form in a responsibly way.
Catalogue
We critically reflected on how to present the material we
collected in Nairobi once we are back in Germany. This was
central to the ongoing discussion we had before. Our aim was
to break down stereotypes and to encourage people to think
about art.
The catalogue comprises more than 25 interviews with artists in the fields of visual arts, street art, music, photography,
handcrafts, and film. In terms of design aspects we aimed at
showing one item of work per artist together with a portrait
and a corresponding interview. The artists were able to choose
the works to be published. We used additional material in order to enrich variety and diversity. Unfortunately, we were not
able to do an interview with each person and therefore we
employed anecdotes with corresponding pieces of work. The
sections of music and film were completed by lyrics and other
articles from the participating actors from Nairobi. Finally, we
handwerk und Film. Gestalterisch setzten wir das Material so um,
dass soweit möglich pro Künstler*in ein Hauptwerk gezeigt und
dieses mit einem Portrait und dem Interview ergänzt wurde. Die
Künstler*innen wählten die zu veröffentlichenden Hauptwerke selbst
aus. Um die Diversität und Bandbreite zu erweitern, verwendeten wir
darüber hinaus zusätzliches Material. Es war uns leider nicht möglich mit allen Personen ein Interview zu führen, somit ergänzen zum
Teil kurze Selbstdarstellungen der Betreffenden das jeweilige Werk.
Vervollständigt wird der Katalog durch weitere Artikel der beteiligten Akteur*innen. Das Ergebnis wird durch die Beiträge über unsere individuelle Auseinandersetzung mit der Reise abgerundet. Vor
dem Hintergrund verschiedener Professionen und Überzeugungen
nahmen wir sowohl die Stadt, als auch Begegnungen unterschiedlich wahr und prägten folglich die Inhalte der Interviews. Die Reflexionen der Projektbeteiligten komplementieren die dargestellten
Künstler*innenportraits. Mit Hilfe dieser einzelnen Puzzleteile wird
ein mehrdimensionaler Blick auf Kunst in Nairobi und auf die individuellen Wahrnehmungen aller beteiligten Akteur*innen von Sanaa
Mtaani möglich. Somit entsteht ein facettenreiches Stadtportrait Nairobis, das Einblick in das Schaffen von Künstler*innen verschiedener
Couleur vor Ort gewährt. Ihre individuellen Ideen, Überzeugungen
und Lebenswelten werden zu einem bestimmten Zeitpunkt festgehalten und verschmelzen somit zu einer Momentaufnahme Nairobis.
Dieser Katalog ist ein Produkt individueller Persönlichkeiten und
Sichtweisen. Hätten sieben andere Personen andere Künstler*innen
getroffen, wäre etwas anderes entstanden. Wir erheben folglich nicht
den Anspruch, „die Lebensrealität“ von Künstler*innen in Nairobi zu
präsentieren. Es ist vielmehr ein kleiner Einblick, gefärbt durch die
persönlichen Sichtweisen der partizipierenden Akteur*innen. Alle
Einstellungen und Überzeugungen sind Ergebnisse des Augenblicks,
geprägt durch einen individuellen Kontext und veränderbar mit jeder neuen Erfahrung. Der Katalog gleicht folglich einem Foto, das
nur einen kurzen Augenblick festhält, wohl wissend, dass ein Leben
über dessen Ränder hinaus existiert und die Aufnahme zu einem anderen Zeitpunkt verschieden ausgesehen hätte. Und obgleich dieses
Bild nur einen Moment konserviert, prägt es seine Betrachter*innen
nachhaltig und kann zum Ausgangspunkt einer Vielzahl neuer Ideen,
Interpretationen und Assoziationen werden.
März 2014
provided our own personal account of the journey, considering
our differing professional backgrounds and opinions and how
we individually experienced and responded to both the city
and its people (in itself a factor which affected interviews). The
reflections from the participants complemented the portraits
of artists. Those pieces of a puzzle provide a multidimensional
view of Nairobi’s art scene and the individual perceptions of
all participating actors in Sanaa Mtaani. This creates a diverse
portrait of Nairobi and the work of local artists. Their individual
ideas, opinions and environments are captured at a specific moment in time and merge into a snapshot of Nairobi. The catalogue is a product of individual personalities and point of views
and bears in mind that if several individuals had each met with
the different artists themselves, the result would have been
significantly different. It does not aim to portray the specific
situation of artists in Nairobi. Instead, it is a brief glimpse that
is shaped by individual opinions of the participating artists. All
the events and attitudes are the product of a single moment,
characterized by an individual context and transformable with
each new experience.
The catalogue resembles a picture, a vignette if you will,
knowing very well that there is a life beyond the edges of that
picture and that the same picture would have looked different,
if it was taken at a different moment in time. Even though this
picture preserves only an instant in time, it will have a lasting
impression on its viewer and might be used as basis for a multitude of new ideas and associations.
March 2014
9
Anna Lafrentz
10
Auf der Suche nach
Kunst in der Stadt | Sanaa Mtaani
In Search of
Art in the City | Sanaa Mtaani
Die Frage „Was ist Kunst?“ beschäftigt die Menschen immer
wieder. Wer hat sich beispielsweise in einer Ausstellung für Moderne Kunst oder bei Gesprächen über die Werke nicht schon einmal erwischt, darüber nachzudenken, ob das denn wirklich Kunst
ist. Nicht nur Philosophen, Schriftstellerinnen, Journalisten oder
Künstlerinnen kommen an diesen Punkt, sondern insgeheim hat
sich das wohl jede und jeder schon einmal gefragt. Der Spruch
„Ist das Kunst oder kann das weg?“ ist zum Kult geworden und
findet sich mittlerweile auf sämtlichen Tassen, Taschen und Frühstücksbrettchen. Doch jetzt mal ehrlich: Was ist Kunst denn nun
wirklich?
In Nairobi ist mir eine neue Dimension des Kunstverständnisses begegnet. Ein einheimischer Taxifahrer sagte mir einmal:
„We like different art than you. You like the things from the market.“ Er verschwieg mir leider, was sie denn mögen. Ein anderer
antwortete auf meine Frage: „Art is paintings, beadings... all that
people can buy“. Fragt man daraufhin die Touristen auf dem örtlichen Markt, bestätigen sie diese Aussage: „This sculpture out of
wood is typical Kenyan art.“ Aber gibt es typische Kunst? Muss
man Kunst klassifizieren? Ist Kunst käuflich? Welche Rolle spielt
Kunst im Leben?
Der kenianische Glaskünstler Tonney erzählte mir, der Kunst
und den Künstler*innen wird von der Stadt zu wenig Beachtung
geschenkt. Er erklärte, wie wichtig die Beteiligung kreativer Menschen bei der Stadtplanung ist. Die Ingenieure planen logisch und
strukturiert, jedoch ohne an die Menschen und deren individuelle
Bedürfnisse zu denken. Nur durch das Hinzuziehen von Kreativen
kann eine Stadt lebendig werden.
Tonney arbeitet in dem Kunstzentrum Kuona Trust. Ein Ort,
der für viele eine Oase ist. Eine Möglichkeit der Stadt mit all ihrer
Energie und mit all ihren Anstrengungen zu entkommen. Sylvia,
The question „What is art?“ occupies our minds over and
over. Who of us have never caught ourselves thinking, while
visiting a contemporary art exhibition or during an art-discussion with a friend, if those art pieces in front of us were really
art. This question does not only occupy writers, philosophers,
journalists, or artists. We have all asked that question at least
once. The phrase “Ist das Kunst oder kann das weg?” (“Is this
art or should I clean it up?“) has become cult in Germany and
is printed on tea cups, bags, and even cutting boards. But let’s
be honest now: What is art really?
In Nairobi, I obtained an entire new dimension of art appreciation. A local taxi driver told me once: “We like different art
than you. You like the things from the market“.
Unfortunately, he never told me which kind of art they
liked. Another person answered differently: “Art is paintings,
beadings,... all that people can buy“. If you ask tourists at the
local market, they will confirm his observation: “This sculpture
out of wood is typical Kenyan art“. But does a thing like typical
art really exist? Do we have to classify it? Can art be bought?
Which part does art play in life?
Kenyan glass artist Tonney told me that art and artists are
not appreciated enough in the city. He explained how important the involvement of creative people in the urban planning
is. Engineers plan logically and structured, yet without including the individual needs of the people. Only through the integration of creative people into the planning process can the
city become alive.
Tonney works in the Kuona Trust Arts Centre. This place
is an oasis for many – a possibility to escape the energy and
stressful vibe of the city. According to Sylvia, the centre director, it is very important that the artists work together in
die Direktorin des Zentrums, legt Wert darauf, dass die Künstler
und Künstlerinnen im Austausch miteinander arbeiten. Gegenseitige Inspiration – das scheint in Nairobi generell ein wichtiges
Thema zu sein. Darum geht es auch in dem Stadtteil Kibera, wo
ebenfalls ein gemeinschaftliches Kunststudio existiert. Das Studio
Maasai Mbili ist Anlaufstelle, Zufluchtsort, Zuhause, Austauschmedium, Treffpunkt – diese Liste ist unendlich fortzuführen. Auch
die Künstler, die wir dort getroffen haben, hatten keine richtige
Antwort darauf, was Maasai
Mbili für sie bedeutet. Es sei
ein Gefühl, das man nicht in
Worte fassen kann. Es macht
das Viertel lebenswert.
Die Künstlerin Florence,
die in einem weiteren Kunstzentrum (GoDown Arts Centre) ihr Studio hat, erzählte,
dass sie nur hier sein kann.
Erst im GoDown wurde sie
lebendig. Sie sagt: „Artists
are the healers of society“.
Künstler und Künstlerinnen
bewirken, dass es der Gesellschaft, den Menschen,
gut geht, dass sie ein gutes
Gefühl in sich haben. Im gleichen Zentrum habe ich auch den art educator Patrick getroffen.
Er ist seit vielen Jahren Maler und hat eine Fernsehsendung, in
der er die Grundlagen der Malerei vermittelt. Außerdem lädt er
Schülerinnen und Schüler zu sich ins Studio ein und gibt ihnen
Kunstunterricht. Auf die Frage wieso er das macht und was ihn
dabei antreibt antwortete er, dass Kreativität zur Bewältigung sozialer Probleme gebraucht werde. Durch eine Anleitung und ein
Ermutigen zum kreativen Denken und Handeln eröffnen sich neue
Lösungsmöglichkeiten. Mir eröffnete dies erneut eine weitere Dimension auf der Suche nach der Bedeutung von Kunst.
Ist also die Frage nach der Rolle von Kunst innerhalb der
Gesellschaft und des Zusammenlebens nicht viel wichtiger als die
a continuous exchange of ideas. Mutual inspiration seems to
be an important topic in Nairobi nowadays. That is also the
main focus in the district of Kibera where we find an art studio
named Maasai Mbili. This place is a contact point, sanctuary,
home, venue, a medium for the exchange of ideas – the list is
endless. Even the artists, whom we have met there, were not
able to give a concise answer to what Maasai Mbili means to
them. It is a feeling that cannot be described with words. It
makes the neighbourhood
worth living in.
Florence, an artist from
the GoDown Arts Centre,
told me that this is the only
place where she can be.
This is the place she becomes alive. “Artists are the
healers of society”, as she
puts it. Artists add happiness and positive energy
to society. I also met art
educator Patrick in the GoDown Arts Centre. He has
been an artist for many
years and has his own TVshow about painting. In addition, he also teaches art
to young pupils. On my question about the reason and motivation of his work, he answered that creativity is needed to overcome social problems. Through guidance and encouragement
to creative thinking and behaviour, new solutions appear. This
uncovered a new dimension in my search for the meaning of
art.
Isn’t the question about the role of art in society and our
coexistence much more important than to question what art
really is?
I also asked myself how art is perceived in Nairobi. An artist explained: “Kenyans don‘t appreciate art. If they have money, they buy cars“. During a panel discussion, another artist
11
Frage was Kunst nun ist?
Auch fragte ich mich, wie Kunst in Nairobi wahrgenommen
wird. Ein Maler erzählte mir: „Kenyans don‘t appreciate art. If they
have money, they buy cars.“ Ein anderer erwähnte in einer Podiumsdiskussion: „I really want Kenyans to buy my work.“ Mir selbst
wurde auch oft auf Ausstellungen die Frage gestellt: „Do you appreciate art?“ Die Direktorin von Kuona Trust ist optimistisch. Sie
meint, Kenia ist auf einem guten Weg, die eigenen Künstlerinnen
und Künstler mehr wertzuschätzen. Aber heißt mehr wertschätzen
denn auch mehr kaufen?
Auf unserer Reise trafen wir auch Hawa, eine Filmregisseurin.
Ich fragte sie, ob ihre Filme über Nairobi eine politische Aussage
haben. Nein war ihre Antwort. Ja war hingegen meine. Sie zeigt
ein Stadtbild von Nairobi, das nichts verheimlicht. Zeigt der Gesellschaft ihr Spiegelbild – das ist für Hawa Kunst und für mich
politisch. Doch was bedeutet eine politische Aussage?
Muss Kunst einen Zweck erfüllen? Muss Kunst emanzipatorisch gedacht sein um auch emanzipatorisch zu wirken?
Auf der Suche nach Kunst in der Stadt wurde mir die Frage
was Kunst ist zwar nicht beantwortet, aber ich habe einmal mehr
die Unendlichkeit der Antworten gesehen. Kunst ist überall. Sie
bietet alternative Möglichkeiten für das Lösen von Problemen, ist
Austauschmedium, bringt Energie, bietet Treffpunkte, macht Politik, macht eine Stadt lebenswert, macht sie schön. Mit den Worten
von Florence: Kunst heilt die Gesellschaft.
said: “I really want Kenyans to buy my work“. While visiting
different exhibitions, I myself was often asked: “Do you appreciate art?“
The director of Kuona Trust remains optimistic. She believes that Kenya is on the right path to increasingly appreciate
their own artists. But does increasing appreciation also mean
an increase in buying art?
During our journey we also met Hawa, a film director. I
asked her if her movies involved any political message. Her
response was “no”. I had to disagree and would say “yes”. She
shows a cityscape of Nairobi without any concealment. She
holds up a mirror to society – for Hawa this is art, but for me
this is a political statement. But then again, what does political
statement mean?
Must art serve a purpose? Must the idea behind a piece of
art be emancipatory for it to have an emancipatory effect?
In my search of art in the city, I indeed did not get the
answer to what art is, but I managed to see the infiniteness
of the answer. Art is everywhere. It offers alternate solutions
to problems, it’s a medium for the exchange of ideas, it brings
energy, it provides meeting points, it creates politics, and it
makes the city beautiful and worth living in. In Florence’s own
words: Art heals society.
gegenüberliegende Seite:
GoDown Arts Centre
12
13
14
Art Map Legend of Nairobi
a Kuona Trust Centre for Visual Arts In Kenya is dedicated to the
generation, presentation, and promotion of innovative contemporary visual arts practice in Kenya. It provides artists‘ studios, a
library, aprogramme of exhibitions, artists‘ talks, training & mentoring, education, and international exchange.
b Pawa254 is Nairobi‘s unique social enterprise through which innovative professionals from diverse artistic fields exploit their
creative genius to foster social change. Among the creatives who
collaborate in this dynamic space are photographers, graphic artists, journalists, musicians and poets. Significantly, promising
youths are invited, both to make their contribution in this informal powerhouse and to receive mentorship from the experts.
f National Museum of Kenya
g Khweza Bed & Breakfast
hThe GoDown Arts Centre/Ketebul Music The GoDown aims
to develop independent artists across multiple art forms, and to
participate in the advancement of the cultural sector, thereby
contributing to the establishment of a robust arts and culture
sector with expanding receptive audiences. Ketebul Music is a
not for profit non governmental organization based at the GoDown Arts Centre. It is a record label, video production facility
and recording studio. The unique mission is to combine the traditions of East African tribal music with the best of contemporary artists.
c Goethe Institute
i Banana Hill Art Gallery
d The Maasai Market
e Kenya National Theatre is part of the Kenya Cultural Center
(KCC), a Semi Autonomous Government Agency under the Ministry of State for National Heritage and Culture in Kenya. It is
mandated to offer space for the rehearsal and staging of productions to both local and international repertoire.
Maasai Mbili (not marked on map) is a community based artist
group that was started in 2001. In 2003 MaasaiMbili acquired a
space and turned it into a studio and a gallery in Kibera – “The
M2 Art Centre”. Almost all the M2 activities are focused at Kiberan development through community interaction.The centre is
situated along Kibera Drive, just after Ayany Junction.
15
Wakanyote N.
16
ART 50
Opening remarks by Wakanyote N. at Kuona Trust on the celebration of
Kenya’s Jubilee Celebrations, 13th December 2013.
There is a story that during the World War, Kamba men
who came into contact with the Makonde carvers were so impressed that they tried to import the curving craft back to Kenya – A fact, of which Kambas are famous for to this day. One
man, I don’t quite remember whether this was the founder of
the Wamunyu Kamba carvers, is said to have curved a pair of
shoes from a log of wood. Imagine him jumping into these; this
may well illustrate the state of our entry into the world of modern art in the world.
The foundations of a modern art movement in East Africa
may be traced back to the founding of the Makerere College
of Art in Kampala, Uganda, by Margaret Trowel in 1936. A
number of students of the school have been associated with
art in Kenya.
George Maloba, a Kenyan, executed the Ugandan Uhuru
monument in Kampala and was to teach art at Makerere up
to 1966, and was later to move back to Kenya, teaching and
heading the department at the Kenyatta University for a long
time. Interestingly, independent Kenya tuned to a foreigner to
erect the first post independent monument namely the Kenyatta sculpture outside the KICC.
Elimo Njao, a student of one of the first batch of the Makerere school- Richard Ntiro, is another influential artist, art
promoter and teacher who made Kenya his home of choice.
Elimo executed the church murals in Kahuhia in Murang’a, and
is associated with introducing many art promoters in Kenya
including Ruth Shaffner of the Gallery Watatu fame. Elimo was
also closely associated with the Chemi Chemi fountain of artistic endeavours in the Nairobi East lands, alongside such luminaries as South African Ezekiel (Eskia) Mphalele and others,
including Hilary Ng’weno, Pheroze Nowrojee, Terry Hirst and
James Kangwana. Elimo later moved into town along present
day Koinange Street in Nairobi and run a gallery there before
relocating to the Ridgeways home of Paa Ya Paa.
Another influential member of the Margaret Trowel School
in Kenya was Luis Mwaniki who headed the Kenyatta University department in charge of art. He will be remembered as the
man who designed the papal mass robe when the pope held an
open mass in Nairobi.
Other less influential Makerere graduates include Prof.
Msangi Kiurire who taught at Nairobi and Kenyatta and remained a practicing artist until his death, as has Rosemary
N’Karuga who is now ailing. Prof. Kinoti, who taught at the
University, is said to have produced the first banana fibre piece
of work in Makerere.
Art teaching in the mainstream of our educational system
has had its mixed fortunes. In the primary school section, we
had a double lesson art period on Fridays that was pure ecstasy for pupils. This was where we moulded with mud, used broken glass to curve ladles and, as Chelenge Rampenburg puts
it, the teacher would tell us “draw me!” whereupon he folded
his arms, slumped onto the table and instantly fell into a bored
sleep. In all her school life, Chelenge never saw a piece of crayon, let alone paint. In 1983, the government made art a compulsory subject in primary schools, but this has since lapsed,
and art is no longer a must subject. According to Emmanuel
Kariuki, the fact that the government has deemphasized the
importance of art in school means that the teachers are using
the time allotted for art to revise the more “important” subjects.
My pessimism over this matter was somewhat shaken by the
optimism of Sylvia Gicia of Kuona who told me recently that
this government is bound to do something about this because
17
of its youth agenda and the urgings of this group. May that
come to pass…
In tertiary institutions, the earliest teaching of art was from
1922 by the Kenya Arts Society based at the Arboretum but,
according to Francis Kahuri, who was a token student there in
the 1970s, the institution folded up when the then Permanent
Secretary in the Ministry demanded that all educational institutions be racially integrated.
As above in the 1960s, Uhuru euphoria Chemi-Chemi Cultural Centre based in Bahati in Nairobi’s East lands opened.
The period (1965) also saw the arrival of an Indian born artist,
Kalyan Badrashetti, from Tanzania to found the Creative Art
Centre where such artists as Samuel Githui, Maggie Otieno,
Stephen Njenga, and Jimnah Kimani studied. The German and
Canadian YMCA helped establish the YMCA Craft Training
Centre in 1966, and it is there that the likes of Bertiers honed
their craft. Keith Harrington briefly run an ad hoc school at the
St. Johns upstairs and artists like John Githinji, Saf and myself
spent some time there in the late 1970s and 80s. In 1993, another East lands based institution sprung up at the Buruburu Catholic Church called Buruburu Institute of Fine Arts. BIFA has
had a most positive influence on the art scene in Kenya, and
its students include artists like Beatrice Njoroge, Emily Odongo, and Kaburu Leaky among others. The Nairobi Art Studio at
the French Cultural Centre, which I coordinated, turned out to
be a short-lived whim of then President Mitterrand’s wife and,
like most of the donor oriented institutions, died out with the
drying of funds.
Out of the Watatu Gallery, courtesy of Rob Bennet, sprout
the Kuona Trust with its informal style of cross fertilization of
artists working together. With Kuona and the Wasanii annual
event, a steady outside exposure increased via international
exchanges. Kenyan art truly went global and the very modern
artistic expressions to be found in the West found its way here.
Now, it is possible to see a Kinyozi signboard hanging in an art
exhibition without sneers. Now, the art debate is no longer two
headed, but three headed with the educated, the self-taught,
and the ultra-moderns featuring.
18
It is also important to mention the Tabaka Kisii soapstone
effort in Kisii closely associated with the veteran artist Elkana
Ogesa. It may well hold the record of the oldest piece of sculpture in Kenya. One piece is reputed to be a hundred years old.
As for publications on art, there are a number, mostly by
foreigners including Margaret Trowell in the 1940s, Judith Miller in 1975, Oomen Mar in the late 1980s and 90s, and others. I
went through a hilarious situation when Oomen was interviewing me at the 680 hotel, as the hotel guards literally carried
me down to the street level on account of my hairstyle. The
only comprehensive study local undertaking has been Mazrui’s
publication. There are a number of coffee table books on art,
as well as a number of catalogues, too, but art magazines
have not fared well, generally wounding up shortly after their
launch. The papers and magazines have, at times, been most
generous with their coverage and the Nation had at one time
an art editor in Wahome Mutahi. Otherwise, it seems the policy
is dictated more by individual resilience as witness the role of
Margareta wa Gaceru as opposed to policy. There also exist
many unpublished manuscripts by artists and art observers.
The art gallery scene in Kenya, mainly Nairobi centred, has
been characterized by a high turnover. In 1985, the Museum
availed a 50 square metre space for a Gallery of Contemporary
Art which has now been greatly expanded. The old PC Kipande House has been handed over to the Murumbi Collection of
mostly non Kenyan work. Of the survivors, Paa Ya Paa has survived along a long and winding road including a blaze of fire.
Gallery Watatu, originally founded by Joni Waite, Robin Anderson and David Hurt – hence Watatu, ‘the three’- has finally closed down as did RaMoMa in 2010. One Off closed in 2001 when
Carol Lees moved to RaMoMa, but has been reopened while
other minor galleries struggle to keep their doors open. Ngeca
Artists Association has survived from 1995 when it was founded by Wanyu Brush, Sane and Wairimu Wadu, Chain Muhandi, Sebastian Kiarii and King Dodge. King Dodge has since left
the Ngeca Association and now operates a gallery there called
Ngeca Art Centre. Sane and Eunice have relocated to Naivasha
where they run a home gallery. But so far, the longest surviving
wholly Kenyan owned gallery has been the Banana Hill Studio
and Gallery under the indomitable Shine Tani who, against all
odds, has held monthly exhibitions for over 20 years. There is
also a new artists’ run gallery at the Railway Museum. The latest gallery, to my knowledge, is Red Hill. The African Heritage
founded by Allan Donovan and the late Murumbi in 1972 folded
up in 2003. It was somewhat revived by Makena Mwiraria, but
its allure has since faded.
Among the organisations that have made major contributions in the Kenyan art scene in recent years is the Ford Foundation which supports the GoDown. The European Union continues to be deeply involved, especially around the activities
of the Museum and the Ministry. RaMoMa did a commendable
job while it lasted and Elimo’s Paa Ya Paa’s part should be
commended as is Kuona Trust with its work that includes international residency programmes. The international School of
Kenya has held an annual art fair since 2000 and the Village
Market held similar fairs between 1997 and 2001 under the One
Off gallery. Mamba Village provided refuge for artists flushed
out of Kuona in 2004, but seems to have fizzled out in terms of
art activities.
Generally, there is a shortage of public art in Kenya. The
colonial government installed the commonwealth war memorials and we have the Parliament and City Hall murals. The
Nairobi and Kenyatta universities boast some pieces including
the familiar Gandhi Memorial and water fountain executed by
Francis Foit, who is Morris Foit’s teacher and mentor. President
Kenyatta had his sculpture elected at the Kenyatta International Conference Centre and churches have always commissioned
murals and stained glasses with Elimo Njao’s mural at Kahuhia
being perhaps best known. In the 1990s, I witnessed an ambitious undertaking in the Wajir Catholic Church by an Italian
artist which should be a major showcase today. In the 1980s,
Noni Croze did some murals on Buruburu houses facing the Outering Road, and she also executed the Goethe Institut-pieces,
a fountain of mother and child included. Her Kitengela Glass
stained glass work is seen in several Nairobi buildings. Murray
Ngoima has done a mural at the Maji House up the Community
Hill, as well as on a bookshop wall near the old OTC stage. The
Nairobi Cinema used to have a mural by Renna Fennesy, as did
the City Square Post Office. These have since been defaced.
The Nairobi cinema mural has been painted over, and the other
made inaccessible by a wall. The Museum boasts several pieces including one by Francis Nnaggenda. Gakunju Kaigwa did
the diver at The Mall in Westlands, and lately, Kioko Mwitiki’s
pieces grace the Airport Road and Nakumatts. Kioko also did
the abstract sculpture near Unga House in Westlands. Morris
Foit did the Jeevanjee metal sculpture commissioned by the
Ford Foundation in 2003, and Ngeca boasts a donkey courtesy
of Evanson Kang’ethe. For some reason or other, metal giraffes
seem to be having a field day, and there is even a piece outside a Rongai hotel. And lately, the government has honoured
heroes Dedan Kimathi and Tom Mboya…
What, can we say, characterizes Kenyan art? As alluded
to there is, broadly speaking, the art trained and self-taught
artistic bases up to the 1980s. Training was mainly at the Shauri Moyo YMCA, Creative Art Centre, Kenyatta University and
Teacher Training Colleges. The self-taught artists mainly came
from the Ngeca and Banana areas. Some of the self-taught artists have been described as pandering to the tourist market
and worked in banana fibre and batik. Of these, Mzee Ancent
Soi soared and perched onto non tourist art and was to win an
Olympic design competition during the Munich Olympic. To a
large extent, the influence of Ruth Shaffner exposed some of
these unschooled artists to an international level. It was to her
entrepreneurial credit that the likes of Sane Wadu, Zachariah
Mbuno, Charles Sekano, Zachariah Mbutha and Francis Kahuri
showcased their work worldwide.
From the 1970s into the 80s, the art scene witnessed an
upsurge of a fierce nationalism that may trace its roots to the
activities of the likes of Ngugi wa Thiong’o and others at the
Nairobi University. Everywhere, artists and art lovers had passionate debates on the place of the state and the art, a national cultural policy, so called “art for art’s sake”, and all. The
period saw an art to the people endeavour and we had open
air shows in Korogosho, Jeevajee Gardens, Kangemi and other
19
locations under the Sisi Kwa Sisi. Umoja wa Wasanii was also
formed to further these goals. Teacher training tutor and artist
Charles Dian’ga opened the Esipala Cultural Centre at his Maseno home. Names associated with this period include Elkana
Ongesa, Etale Sukuro, Kavare Miano, Kibacia Gatu, Kang’ara
wa Njaambi, and others.
There is little influence in terms of local tradition, except
by way of subject matter in our art. Joel Oswaggo and Zachariah Mbuno are foremost in this. It is also true that this was
the case in the 1970-90’s when artists addressed issues such as
domestic violence cum harmony and family planning themes,
mainly inspired by the clients such as IPPF and calendar competition themes. Artists like Fred Oduya embarked on serious
documentation of traditional homesteads and Katete did a Joy
Adamson of sorts by embarking on a portraiture quest round
the country in the 90s. The absence of a traditional art tradition
is cited as a reason why there are no artists pursuing this area.
Plus, the locals tend to view the few traditional art and craft
with a bias born of their training and exposure which has tended to be exposure to Western art. Margaret Trowel is said to
have tried to encourage her students to delve into this, but there is little evidence that she succeeded. Thus, the fertility dolls,
Lamu doors, the Miji Kenda funerary posts, the gourd designs
to be found in various utility items including the gicandi rattle,
fertility designs on knobkerries, plus motifs on baskets, spoons
and ladles, and so on. The nearest we come to the Tanzanian
so called Square Painting by people like Tingatinga, Mpata,
Mruta, and others has been the Kinyozi signs and the prolific
bar, hotel, and butchery murals of the likes of Murai and others.
The bar mural painting seems to have been introduced by the
wave of refugees from the Congo crisis of the 1960s. They mostly painted lush densely forested villages in heavy strokes of
black, green and yellow. The Congolese most likely also introduced the Mami-Wata siren – half fish half woman – in the bar
murals. One such painter, Katembo, made a successful career
straddling the River Road circuit, curio shops and galleries in
Nairobi. Of note are also the Kikuyu and Maasai genealogical
murals in bars by a coastal sign-writer called Salim. Mbatia,
20
Kenyatta University alumni, was enthusiastic about bar murals and executed a number of them in places like Ngong. He
also undertook some private work for the city engineer in the
1990s. The young generation has also embraced graffiti complete with social political messaging and the resultant hide and
seek games between the young and the police.
The cultural field has often been a difficult terrain to manoeuvre in in Kenya. In the 1920s, the colonial government banned the Muthirigu song dance in Kikuyuland until Uhuru. Ngugi wa Thiong’o’s activities with the Kamirithu theatre activities
eventually saw him detained and later live in exile as did many
others. When Cege Kibacia artistically critiqued the murder of
a local woman by an American sailor and the mauling down of
a girl by dogs set upon her for ostensibly stealing a pineapple
at the multinational Kenya Canners, he antagonized the state
and had to flee out Kenya for many years. Samuel Wanjau’s
Mau Mau sculpture, now housed at the Paa Ya Paa, was declared unsuitable for display in the streets of Nairobi for, the
powerful Minister Charles Njonjo declared, it would frighten
children. During the Moi era, self-censorship became a way of
life for many in the arts.
Many in the arts agitated for a cultural policy in Kenya
since the 1970s, but this only came to be enacted at the end
of the 1990s. On the whole, the government’s stand on culture
has always been ambivalent. During the Njonjo heydays, the
docket fell under the Constitutional Ministry and the influence
of Richard Leakey and the Museum. Even today, the person
in charge of art in the Department must be a most befuddled
character, for the shots are clearly called from the Museum.
And the Museum clearly does a much better job than the Department that stored most valuable works of art in a kitchen
to mould away for years. The ineptitude there has been monumental; there are artists’ pieces somewhere in Rome that have
not returned since 2003. And can anyone in the Department
itemize what lies buried in some, maybe, mouldy drawers at
the now renamed (and in private hands?) Moi Sports Centre,
Kasarani? All said and done, the government could do with
some streamlining house-keeping…
But it’s not all mourning which we in the arts have often
been accused of. The government has organized nationwide
Nairobi based exhibitions the largest of which was in 1988 at
the City Hall, Charter Hall, under Seba Magoiga-Seba. Seba’s
tenure in the Department saw him work closely with artists and
he was most supportive in the art-to-the-people cause being undertaken by people like Etale Sukuro, Kavare Miano, Kang’ara
wa Njaambi, and others. Seba actively pursued and helped secure corporate support (mainly from Esso) for the visual arts.
The Department has also held exhibitions on a provincial basis
that has included the purchase of artworks.
Through the Ministry of Justice, National Cohesion and
Constitutional Affairs, and funded by the European Union, the
government has brought together the Kenya Visual Artists Network and held a juried exhibition dubbed “Power of Unity” in
July 2012. And, happily, the Museum continues to be a hub of
art activities. The Network, for one, could become a catalyst for
major changes regarding art in the future…
At the height of President Moi’s reign, the country witnessed the greatest commissioning of public art by the Kenyan
government. The nationwide Nyayo monuments spread across
the provinces bear witness to this profusion. A more proactive
role on the part of the government would go a long way to advance this cause. What we have advocated for over the years
is that any building plans for office and public utility blocks
should include compulsory public artwork by a Kenyan in the
design before getting approved.
The above is not an exhaustive overview of the art scene
in Kenya as we celebrate 50 years of Uhuru; but it will, I hope,
shed a little light on the road we have travelled and which way
hence…
Wakanyote N.
Studio at the GoDown Arts Centre
21
Sylvia Gichia
22
Interview with Sylvia Gichia,
director at Kuona Trust - Centre for Visual Arts in Kenya
Interviewers: Sabrina Loll and Anna Lafrentz
Would you first introduce yourself?
I‘m Sylvia Gichia, the director at Kuona Trust.
Maybe you can
the Kuona Trust?
tell
us
a
little
bit
about
the
history
of
Kuona is an amazing centre. It‘s a visual arts centre primarily.
It started almost 18 years ago at the National Museum. That was
when we first decided that artists should get together and work
together collaboratively and collectively. Then, we‘ve been moved
over to the Go Down Arts Centre where we spent about five years
just growing as an arts centre.
The artists grew in numbers until we were a few more than
when we were at the museum. So we moved from numbers like
15 at the museum to about 20 artists at the Go Down Arts Centre.
And then finally, we found our own space in Kilimani where we
still are. We‘ve been here for six years now, and we‘re 40 artists
in this space.
So it‘s really been an upward journey for Kuona Trust. We‘re
entirely donor-funded — which is quite sad — but we‘re slowly getting away from the donor funding situation, and we‘re looking for
more sustainable ways to actually exist.
still in a development process of that. We‘re thinking of a more
commercial way of existing, like using the web and social media
to sell art and to survive through commission. We don‘t own our
space, so we‘re looking for ways on how to get our own space.
When we achieve that, we‘re able to build our own temporary
gallery, and with that gallery we can charge, not only commission
but also rental fees to the artists.
Studios at Kuona
Trust Art Centre
Which ways could that be?
For instance, now we have an outlet where we‘re selling art
material. Then we‘re charging more for our programmes. Whereas,
when they were donor-funded, they were entirely funded, but now
we start to charge more for the technical workshops, because we
are using master artists and you can‘t really find this experience in
Nairobi; it‘s quite marketable. We‘re also thinking of going into an
incubative programme where we‘re really teaching the artists how
to exist as a fulltime-artist, maybe six months to one year. We‘re
Which role do you think the Kuona Trust Centre plays for the art scene
in Nairobi?
Actually, Kuona has played a really big role. We‘ve had over a
thousand artists coming through Kuona. I think, I mentioned earlier that we‘re not teaching art in our education system anymore,
it was completely pulled out as an examinable programme in our
curricula. So, we have a really big mandate to spread the word of
the visual arts here in Kenya.
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So, what we‘ve done is really extended our outreach programme which means that we‘re in a lot of communities through
our artists that are teaching art to the youth, to show them alternative ways to exist or to make money. Our outreach programme
is really big for us. We‘ve recently acquired an outreach centre
outside of Nairobi, in a place called Nyahuru, through one of our
cooperate sponsors and that really provides us a permanent space
that we can tap into various communities. From there, we invite
these children for about a month and we do workshops with them.
So in that sense, I think that we have a really big mandate.
We‘re now getting a lot into policy. We realized that the ministry of culture is really not strong on our policy for visual arts.
They‘re looking a lot into theatre and music, and we don‘t have
a big voice as visual arts. So on incidents like the event¹ you
attended yesterday, we feel like it‘s our place to bring the artists
together and create voices, or a solid voice, that hasn‘t happened
actually ever in Kenya. So that‘s been really big for us.
Another big issue is archiving. I think that I kept mentioning
that we just don‘t have a good archive system. So if you‘re looking
for the history of visual arts in Kenya, it‘s quite difficult to find.
I feel it‘s time for Kuona now to start building these archives, so
that we can have a trail in our history where the visual arts are.
In East Africa, now the visual arts are really coming up in Kenya,
Uganda, and Tanzania. So a lot of interested buyers are coming
here and no longer only to West Africa, but a lot more to East
Africa, so it‘s really a good time for us to really pick up, and build
our arts together.
Where do the buyers come from?
A lot of them are from Europe. So we have quite a number of
UK buyers, guys from Amsterdam, actually from all over Europe.
We have a few from the States, as well. The Middle East – we‘ve
seen a lot of interest from there, South Africa as well.
And what do you think about the appreciation of art in Kenya itself?
Initially, if you asked me this question five years ago, I
¹ 50 years ART in Kenya. It was a two days long programme with panel discussions, workshops etc. for celebrating 50 years of independence.
24
would‘ve laughed because I‘d say they don‘t appreciate art. But
since then a lot has changed. Within the last three years alone, I‘ve
seen a lot of black African interested buyers; and Kenyans as well.
You know, it‘s gonna take time because we don‘t come from
a culture where we are taught art, or appreciate art as something
you want to invest in. But more and more, you find that the middle
class is really opening up and they have a bit of disposable cash,
and they come through here – we have more and more local Kenyans coming through our gate, every day.
People start to recognize the artists, so that‘s encouraging. We
have more cooperates sponsoring our events or inviting us to do
things with them, and collaborate in different ways. Even if it means to hang art on their walls, that‘s a big step for us. Because our
competition for a long time was the Chinese and the fabricated
art from the Middle East. But now you‘re finding that people actually understand the value, and they are willing to spend 40.000 to
60.000 on a piece of art.
It‘s gonna take a while. I don‘t think it‘s going to happen
overnight but give us about another 4, 5 or 6 years. I think, they‘re
starting to understand the value of art and appreciate and not depreciate, and that‘s a good deal.
How do you choose the artists to have a studio here?
They have to go through an application process. Every year,
we have a renewable contract – that means that they have a oneyear-contract at Kuona Trust. We‘re trying to keep artists here for
about three to four years and usually that has worked very well
for us.
We have some who‘ve been here 5, 6, 7 years and even more
but that‘s okay, because they‘ve become the mentors of the younger artists that come in. We‘re looking for artists that have a bit of
talent and a style of their own. Artists who are ready to learn and
to be here fulltime, because actually we‘re trying to encourage
that people are surviving off of their art.
And we‘re looking for artists that are willing to work with
other artists, because it’s an arts centre so there‘s got to be some
room for collaborative work. Also, teachability is really important
because you can‘t come in here and expect to know everything.
There‘s going to be a lot of influence around you.
Maybe you have some words about yourself as an artist, like what you
do and why and how you do it?
Unfortunately, as an artist, I‘m not practicing too much more
now, because I‘m running this fulltime arts centre. But I‘m a photographer, a professional photographer. I have deep passion for
images and telling stories, so my photography style is documentary.
Why do I do it? It‘s because I feel I need to tell these stories
in a really visually, attractive, and appreciated way. For a long
time, I was stuck in looking at Africa being portrayed as the place
where you have starvation and poverty, but I know Africa in a
different way and I always feel like I have to tell these happy
stories. I know I couldn‘t do it alone but, you know, one step at a
time. Actually, as a director it also helps to double up as an artist,
because you also see things as an artist. And that also helps in
terms of relating with the artists on the ground. If I didn‘t have art
as a background and I just came in here with manager experience,
then it would be very difficult to understand quite a number of the
dynamics that are involved in running the art space.
Thank you!
Garden area at Kuona Trust
25
Jackie Karuti
26
Interview with Jackie Karuti
Artist at Kuona Trust Art Centre
Interviewers: Anna Lafrentz and Sabrina Loll
Please introduce yourself - anything you want to share!
My name is Jackie Karuti, from Nairobi, Kenya. I‘m an artist based at the Kuona Trust Art Centre in Nairobi. My work
includes paintings, installations, and I’m also experimenting
with performance art. I also try to find other areas of interest
where I can be involved in some sort of artistic way, for example in film, photography, literature, and dance.
How do you see your role as an artist? It´s actually the question of
yesterday’s discussion [podium discussion in Kuona Trust for „50
years of Kenyan Art“] – we were not very content with the answers.
Maybe you can go a little bit more into detail. What
is your role as an artist? Why do you have so many
mediums to express yourself?
My role, first, is to be an artist here in Kenya, in Africa, and in the world. I try not to be
location specific. But here in Kenya, I think my
main agenda would be to tackle things other
people are not comfortable with. I‘m not really
a good speaker. I’m more of an observer, so
whenever I say something through/with my
art, I find that I have communicated very well as opposed to
when I literally speak about it. That’s what I think. I wouldn’t
say I have many mediums to express myself, because what I
do is just working across different disciplines, but focussing
more on painting, performance art, and installation. With performance especially, I use it because it´s an interesting platform to experiment, as well as an alternative area to express
myself. There is one thing you can say with a painting, but
can’t do so with a sculpture. It’s the same thing. I have collaborated with a photographer for still-performance which is an
alternative to live-performance. I have featured in a film which
is also a form of performance, and I used to dance a few years
ago which is very much considered as a performance aid.
But that´s interesting. Yesterday in the discussion, you said you use
art first to express yourself. Now you say it a little bit different.
Actually, the question that was asked on the panel was
“Who do you make your art for?” I said I make art for myself
first. When I experiment with all these different art forms,
it’s for myself, because I want to discover something new or
something different. Most importantly, when I tackle these unspoken issues, it’s for myself first.
What makes you want to communicate?
A lot of things need to be said in the
places I find myself in, but these things
are not being said or talked about in the
right way. But this again is subjective.
What I consider to be right might be
wrong to other people. The point here,
I believe, is to have your own voice. On
the other hand, again, I’m not reactive. If something happens
right now, I probably wouldn’t be triggered to make art about
it. I find that’s what most artists do. If there are no trending
issues, then for a lot of artists it means they cannot create as
well as they usually do, which is wrong. I just create regardless, with or without something happening stressing my previous point that I create art for myself first.
Jackie Karuti:
Death of A Sun
What inspires you?
The feminine form, music, books, film, urban culture.
27
You have many female bodies in your paintings. Is there a special
reason for it?
This is really confusing. Maybe you can tell your opinion about these stereotypes.
Not really. Identity and gender are themes in most of my
paintings, and women just happen to be my focus gender.
Painting the feminine figure and telling a story through her is
also very pleasant, I must say. The closest I’ve come to painting male bodies is a series I did, but even then the figures
were very abstract so you couldn’t really tell which was the
point.
As much as they exist, we shouldn’t tolerate or abide by
them. I would be bored and even pissed off if somebody told
me that I have to paint pictures of women with pots of water
on their heads, because I’m an African, or because that’s what
considered to be African art. Times have changed and there’s
so much more about being African besides living in Africa.
People should focus more on what the art’s about, as opposed
to where the artist is from. I believe that whenever you describe yourself as an artist, you shouldn’t put the location first
in the description. That is, don‘t say “I am a
Kenyan artist”. Instead say, “I am an artist
from Kenya”. This, I think, makes really good
sense, because if you were to be taken out of
Kenya, you would still be an artist. But in the
first statement, it sounds as if it’s Kenya that
makes you an artist. It shouldn‘t have to be
like that.
So how do you see yourself as an African woman here in Kenya?
I don’t, actually. You’d be surprised at
how ‘un-African‘ I am. I wear pants, I don’t
carry pots of water on my head, I’m opposed
to many traditional, cultural practices... I say
this because to most people, ignorant people
mostly, that is what it means to be an African woman. But really, I see myself bringing
change through my work to an otherwise rigid and ignorant society.
And as an African artist? As a female artist?
Jackie Karuti:
Stefaan‘s Letters
I think my first reaction would be to say, I
don‘t like being described as an African artist
the same way someone wouldn’t want to be
described as a European artist. But simply put, yes, I am an
African. More specifically, I am a Kenyan, a woman, and an
artist as well. All these identifiers and labels used to bother
me a lot before, but nowadays, I try not to think about it or the
stereotypes attached to it.
It´s very funny. I read an article about how African artists describe
their art, and the article said that many critics say “Oh no, that is too
traditional, that is too African. You need to be global, or whatever“,
and the other critics said that if you didn´t paint with traditional
symbols and ornaments, you´re not authentic.
Yes, this happens a lot. Funny enough, most of these critics
have never set foot inside Africa. Their idea of African traditions,
or what African art is, is totally ridiculous and misguided.
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How much does Nairobi as a city influence your
work?
Nairobi influences me totally. I was born
and bred here. I’ve experienced so much here.
I don’t know much about my up-country–
meaning where my parents grew up – except from stories I
hear or what I see whenever I visit my grandparents. So Nairobi is what I know best. I’ve visited Johannesburg in South
Africa a couple of times, and I found both cities to be very similar. It’s like an African kind of New York. It‘s the energy. The
energy of Nairobi, the people, the ideals the people stand for,
what they do not stand for, but also it‘s the chaos. Really. Because sometimes Nairobi is not functional. I complain and hate
it most of the time, but I‘m still here and I absolutely love it.
Jackie Karuti: A Helmet for Me and Another One for You
29
Dickson Kalokia
30
Interview with Dickson Kalokia
Artist at Kuona Trust Art Centre
Interviewers: Stefanie Habben and Sabrina Loll
Could you please introduce yourself? Who are you and what are you
doing here in Kuona Trust?
My name is Dickson Kalokia. I sign my paintings ‘D. Kalokia’.
I rented a space here in Kuona Art Trust Centre, and this is where
my studio is.
Tell us something about your art...
My art is about reflecting the cities and slums. My work is
about reflecting people through the city and the slums. So yes, it´s
about the mood of the slums combined with the mood of the city.
And what is your working process like?
Sometimes, I go to the slums for sketching and then I come
here in my studio to finalize the sketch. Or I just sit down, after
visiting the slum or the city, just sit down and sketch something
instead of working on that. But it is mostly about how I feel there.
I´ll go to the slums, spending some time there. And then, after
spending a period of a good time there, I come into the studio,
lock myself – the reason why I love this studio is because it´s
private. I love to lock the door and no one comes in. So I have the
privacy on myself, to work on a piece and create something that
I love the most.
When you´re painting, could you describe the steps that you take?
When I´m painting, first, before I´m painting, I prepare the
canvas, prepare everything and just relax. And what I´m feeling to
do on that canvas is what I´ve seen and what reacted, interacted
with what I visualize on the painting. When you look at my paintings, most of them have no people in them. That´s because of the
difference between rich and poor people.
People believe that they can see, because of the surrounding,
if a man is rich or poor.
But if all people were in one room, you wouldn´t know the
rich and the poor persons, because everyone looks the same. For
me, it´s not the building that should case a personality - for me,
where you come from is not who you are. It´s just a house or
a building, just the way it is. Sometimes, I do the paintings of
the buildings in town; sometimes, I do the paintings of buildings
around this area. But in between, it´s the personality of the people
who lived there. It´s not the building. So, it doesn´t matter where
you come from, it only matters on who you are, what kind of a
person you are. Yeah, that´s why I put not so many people in my
paintings, but instead I put shadows in them. So that´s the spirit
of what´s in there. Yes, that´s how I work on the paintings.
Can you tell us more about the shadows in your paintings?
The shadows in my paintings show the energy that´s in there. The shadows pick more than anything, because it triggers the
viewer’s curiosity. For me, the shadow of a person before you
see the actual person, is what gives you the energy, it gives you
everything. So the energy and the power of the painting is the
shadow itself. It brings out the curiosity, it brings the life in the
painting... and the places with no shadows mean that there is no
existence of anything. It´s just a quiet place. But the shadows
speak more.
The problem is: I don´t care so much about people. I don´t
care about who you are, where you are from, what you do – I
don´t care about that. I only care about who you are in society,
what you do in society, what your purpose is.
And when I´m painting, that feeling comes to me. You´re
just a person, but what is inside you is the important thing. That
is why I show shadows and stuff. Because that doesn´t show
31
who the person really is. You can say that this is Obama, but you
never know. I can say maybe this is Mandela, because it doesn´t
show the person in detail. Because it´s just a shadow. And what
is inside him is what is more important than his outer appearance.
And when do you think your art piece is finished?
I work on a painting for so long, hours and days, and hours
and days... but it reaches a point where the painting is just finished. And then you know it very well: If you do something on a
painting, is it your need or is it the painting’s need? I feel that the
painting is done when there is nothing to add. You will feel if it´s
unfinished.
So, each picture has a level, probably, when I touch it and
then feel that it is complete: “Damn! There is nothing I can do!”.
I just try to put it nicely, and then stretch it completely and look
at it two or three days, make sure it’s alright, before I say it´s
totally done. A painting will tell you when it´s complete. We just
have a feeling. It doesn´t communicate “Hey Dickson, I´m complete!“. You will know, definitively. But at that point, the colours will
show you, the structures will show you something, and then you´ll
know at this point, this painting will tell you: “I´m complete”.
Are you working on just one piece at a time?
It depends on how I feel, because I work with colours.
This is a very dark painting. And this painting, I reached the
point where I want to make it dark. When I feel that I want to
make it dark, then I come to this one. And this one reminds me to
make it bright. Working on the bright piece gives me balance. It´s
much easier for me to paint that way. Once I start painting, I will
paint till tomorrow, because I sleep here, and it is only painting,
painting, painting... So I need a kind of a balance.
Do you feel confident with every piece?
No, I don´t feel confident. Sometimes I feel “Oh my god! I don´t
care who will buy this! It´s the ultimate painting... the Picasso...
the painting of the time!”, and then the other paintings are like:
“What the fuck! What am I doing! I hate this painting!”, and then
I put it aside. I remember there is a painting I was working on.
32
And I absolutely hated that painting. I really hated that painting! I
don´t know why. Maybe, it connected me with something, maybe
it reminded me of something, but I had no idea what that was. I
hated it so much, and then I didn´t want to let it go. I hated the
colours. I hated the structures. I hated everything. But every time I
looked at the painting, it gave me the energy to work on it. I don´t
know which power it had. So when a friend of mine later bought
the painting, I was disconnected. I felt so bad! And every time I
asked my friend: “Hey Dude, where is it hanging? Uum, do you
like it?”, and he answered: “Yeah, I like it”. Ok, every time I talked
to him, the painting only came up because I felt that this guy took
the part of me that I hated the most and finally became a good
friend of mine. I felt the connection to that painting very strong.
Some of my paintings I love and some of them I hate. Sometimes,
I want to destroy pieces that I hate. Some pieces I don´t show to
anyone. Some pieces I show and some of them I sell.
I can´t say I love all my paintings. The only thing I love is the
process of working on the painting. That is the thing that I love
the most. When I´m holding a painting, working on a painting,
discovering something, because this painting looks similar to that
one, but it´s totally different from that one... Because I know the
process of working on it. I love to use coincidences. I play with
material. So, mostly is not about the outcome... I´m just curious
about working on it, because there is a picture inside me that I
need to see. So the process of working on my paintings is the
most important thing. Not the finished product. It´s the working
process on a painting. It gives me the satisfaction that I want.
Is there something else you want say about your work?
I don´t know, what I would say about my work. I like it when
you look at my work. What YOU get is what it is about. What you
don´t get is what I think about it.
Thank you!
Dickson Kalokia:
untitled
33
Anthony Wanjau
34
Interview with Anthony Wanjau
Artist at Kuona Trust Art Centre
Interviewers: Stefanie Habben and Sabrina Loll
Please introduce yourself...
Where do you go to get your inspiration? Do you use the city for that?
My name is Anthony and I´m a sculptor, working with wood
and stone. And sometimes, I also do paintings. I started working
as an artist at the age of eight years. Actually, I´m brought there
from the family. My dad was a sculptor, too.
I would say yes, because in most of the cases, I´m always in
the city... going to a bar, taking one or two bottles, keep on looking around, see how people move, how they behave. I need to
know what they are doing. I´m looking around
and try to do what they are doing. Like children, doing different kinds of activities.
Why do you choose wood and stone?
In fact, I didn´t choose my material. I
only get material, or I use material. First, I
have to get the idea of what I´m doing, or
what I´m going to use. It depends on what
kind of sculpture I want to make.
So you see a piece of wood and stone and then
you have in your mind what you want to do?
I need to have it in my mind, and then I
am looking for material which is going to fit
my idea.
Is it important for you to work outside?
Yes, it is important for the subjects and
sculptures that I make. I can´t do this in a
house with closed walls. In sculpturing, I believe, you need a lot of space because of the
movement.
And what inspires you in your work? You do a lot
of faces and people, what does it mean?
First, I have to say: I like women. Mostly, I´m inspired by
women, and also children. That is what my environment is about.
That is what really inspires me.
Would you like to describe your working progress
when you start to work on a piece?
No problem. The first step I´m doing is to
have the idea. Sometimes, I do a design on paper and do a sketch, sometimes go straight to
the wood. Then, after designing and choosing
the wood, I decide if I want to sketch on the
wood or on the paper. When you have an idea,
you can´t remember all the details that you
have in your mind, so you need to put them
down so you don´t forget. It´s simple.
And how does the material influence your work?
If the piece of wood had a hole, for example. It´s a
natural material...
Well, not really. Cause, like this one , it´s
the first one in which I followed the wood. I never follow the nature of the wood. I just have
the idea and get a piece of wood and try to squeeze my design in
there. ‘Cause, sometimes, when you follow the wood, sometimes
you mess up. ‘Cause for example, you put an arm here and then
you can´t get there, because it´s probably broken or it´s rotten. I
don´t really like following the wood, the nature of the wood. And
Anthony Wanjau:
Artwork
35
sometimes, for example, stone. It´s quite hard and funny. You
know, funny shape of stone, because no matter where it´s going...
king until the last paint. I felt that this is very difficult for me - for
me, painting is hard.
Another kind of question: What does art mean to you? In what time in
your life did you recognize that art is important to you? Why are you an
artist?
Do these two ways of working inspire each other? Or are they totally
different?
Hmmmmm.... I think... I´m an artist, because I want to be free.
I want to have freedom. I wanted to express myself. That´s why I´m an artist, that´s why I like
to be what I am.
To whom do you sell your pieces?
My buyers. I don´t have specific people.
Sometimes, people come here, like a work and
leave with it, sometimes collectors come and say
“We want to have your work in our collection”.
And can you live from your work here? Or do you
have to do some other stuff?
Well, I´m thinking to do other businesses.
And you are painting some pictures.
I started to paint later in my life. But I
don´t paint that much. Just when I get bored
of sculpting, get tired, or when I don´t have
an idea in my mind of making a sculpture, I’m
going to do paintings. Actually, I don´t even sell
my paintings.
So how would you describe the difference between working as a sculptor and working as a painter? Is there a difference based on the process?
Oh yes! There is a big difference! I used to think painting is,
you know, very easy to do. But for me it is not. Because, in a sculpture I decide one time, then go with the wood and stop thinking
about it until it´s finished. But in painting, I need to keep on thin-
36
For me, they don´t need each other. But ok, sometimes they
do. Like when I´m making sculptures... but in painting, for me, the
difficult part of painting is choosing the colours.
I have a question about Nairobi. Because we´re looking for evidence on how the city influences the artwork... What would you say about this? Is there any
influence coming from this special city? What is Nairobi to you? Is it necessary that you live and work
here? Or could you live somewhere else?
No, I don´t think it is important to live here
in Nairobi. Before I came here, I was working at
home. The best way or place to work is the material, that there is space... what I want to say:
Nairobi does not influence me at all.
So you could be an artist anywhere.
What I can say: I can work everywhere. But
for the market, Nairobi is good. ‘Cause here are
a lot of people... people are able to access your
work.
Is there anything you want to add, about your work,
or your life as an artist, or your work here at Kuona Trust? What should
the readers know about you as an artist?
I would like to say to them: Come and see for yourselves! Not
just by reading or seeing the images. I want to invite them to see,
and probably work together. Yes, you must not be an artist to work
with us... we can influence each other in another way, we can go out!
Anthony Wanjau:
Mosquito
Anthony Wanjau:
Sculpture
37
Sabrina Loll
Kunst, Ort und Kontext
Überlegungen zur Bedeutung der Kontexte,
in denen Kunst geschaffen und
wahrgenommen wird.
Thoughts on the Significance of the Context in
which Art is produced and enjoyed
Kontexte oder die (Ohn-)macht des Künstlers
Context or the Power of the Artist
Es spielt eine Rolle wo wir was arbeiten. Oft ist der Kontext
das, was dem eigentlich sichtbaren Werk die nötige Würze verleiht – eine Kinderzeichnung eines Hauses mit Garten mag den
meisten trivial erscheinen, weiß man jedoch um den Hintergrund
des Kindes, welches sich vielleicht auf der Flucht befindet und
getrennt von der Familie ist, bekommt es eine andere Bedeutung.
Wir fügen dem Sichtbaren unser neues Wissen und unsere Verknüpfungen hinzu. Das können je nach Sachlage politisches Wissen, Ortskenntnisse sowie letztendlich persönliche Betroffenheit
sein (in den Verknüpfungen landen wir letztendlich immer bei uns
selbst, unserem unmittelbaren Leben). Diese Verknüpfungen entziehen sich der Macht des Künstlers. Er mag seine Intention haben, dieses oder jenes „sagen“ wollen – was wir aber „verstehen“
entspringt dem Dialog des Raumes zwischen Künstler, Werk und
Rezipient. Der Künstler setzt etwas aus sich heraus, in die Welt,
dort existiert es bis es wahrgenommen wird.
It makes a difference where we work. The context is often
the thing that gives work
its necessary zest - a child‘s drawing of a house with its
garden may appear trivial to most people, but the child‘s background could make a difference: perhaps it is on the run and
separated from its family. We add our knowledge to what we
see. Depending on the subject, this could be political or geographical knowledge or personal concern (these things lead us
back to ourselves, our day to day life). These connections reduce the artist‘s power. He may want to express something specific – what we ‘understand’ comes from a dialogue between the
artist, the product, and the viewer. The artist puts something
into the world; there it exists until it is appreciated.
Subjektive Wahrnehmung – Das Fremde und Ich
Das WIE des Wahrnehmens obliegt dem Betrachter, obgleich
sich die Art WIE wahrgenommen wird nur zum Teil bewusst abspielt und somit steuerbar ist. Wir nehmen wahr wie wir gelernt
haben zu sehen1. Es folgt Mustern: Bereits Gesehenes verursacht
eine nicht so starke Aufmerksamkeit wie Unbekanntes. Ein Beispiel: Eine Alltagsszene im Straßenverkehr. Autos stehen an einer
roten Ampel, Fußgänger laufen über die Straße. Wenn nun aber
die Ampel blau anstatt grün leuchten würde, würde uns dies auffallen, selbst wenn das Ampellicht nur einen kleinen Reiz darstellt.
Aber weil es ungewohnt wäre, würden wir aus unserem „Trott“
1 Den Sehsinn verwende ich hier synonym für alle anderen Sinne die der sinnlichen Wahrnehmung unterliegen.
38
The Effect of the Location on the Art
and the Artist
Subjective Perception – The Foreigner and Myself
The HOW we perceive is the observer‘s responsibility. Although, the way the HOW is perceived plays only a part and is
thus controllable. We perceive how we learned to see. It follows a pattern: the things we know do not affect us as much
as the things we do not know.
An example: Cars are waiting at a red traffic-light, pedestrians are crossing the road. We would notice if the traffic-light
was blue instead of green, even if the traffic-light only played
a small role. But because it is unusual, we would be pulled out
of our usual state. The reaction of our focused attention will
be stronger when the impulse intensifies; for example if an
elephant stood between the cars or a mythical creature flew
through the air. The more unusual, the more absurd the event,
the greater is our interest, our focus on the current experience.
These examples presume that the observer is in a normal situ-
gerissen. Die Reaktion der fokussierten Aufmerksamkeit fiele vermutlich umso heftiger aus, je intensiver der Reiz wäre; wenn beispielsweise ein Elefant zwischen den Autos stünde, oder gar ein
Fabelwesen durch die Luft flöge. Je ungewöhnlicher, je absurder
das Ereignis, desto größer die Aufmerksamkeit, das heißt die Fokussierung auf das gegenwärtige Erleben. Diese Beispiele gehen
von der Sachlage aus, dass Menschen sich in ihrer gewohnten
Umgebung befinden, in die ein ungewohntes Ereignis eintritt.
Subjektive Wahrnehmung – Ich, das Fremde
Wie verhält es sich andersherum? Wenn die Umgebung
NICHT das Gewohnte darstellt? Wenn ICH das Fremde bin bzw.
mich als das Fremde wahrnehme? Meine Aufmerksamkeit ist anwesend und mit größtmöglichem Bewusstsein ausgestattet. Ich
nehme ungefiltert auf: Menschen, Gerüche, Schriftzüge, Straßenzüge, Verkehrsmittel, Körpersprache, Tempi, Laute. Durch die Neuartigkeit für mich nehme ich beinahe jeden Eindruck bewusst wahr
(das ist der Grund warum wir in uns unbekannten Umgebungen
so schnell erschöpft sind), wir versuchen uns zu orientieren, es besteht ein ständiger Abgleich mit bekannten inneren Bildern. Wie
ich diese bekannten Eindrücke, wenn sie auftauchen, wahrnehme,
obliegt wiederum meiner Grundkonstitution oder momentanen
Verfassung. Bin ich auf der Suche nach dem völlig Andersartigen,
der Fremde, stören mich bekannte Bilder vielleicht (als Beispiel
sei hier das allgegenwärtige Coca-Cola-Emblem genannt). Bin ich
überfordert von der Fülle der Eindrücke oder fühle mich nicht
wohl, kann das Auftauchen von etwas Bekanntem eine Art Anker
darstellen und Halt bedeuten.
Sehgewohnheiten, Kunst und Kontexte
Bezogen auf die Kunst bedeuten diese Aussagen: Was wir
bereits gesehen haben stellt eine Art innere Landkarte in uns dar,
in die wir versuchen das „Neue“ einzuordnen. Kunst unterliegt
dem Ruf, möglichst „originell“ sein zu wollen. Um ein „Original“ zu
sein, sollte es nicht reproduzierbar sein2. Wir versuchen also das
2 Eine Kunstauffassung, die nach Marcel Duchamps Readymades und spätestens
nach Andy Warhol und seiner fabrikmäßigen Produktionsweise von Kunst
eigentlich ad acta gelegt ist. Eigentlich. Denn fragt man nach der Motivation
ation in which an unusual event occurs.
Subjective Perception – I, the Foreigner
What happens the other way around? When the surroundings DO NOT present the usual? When I am the stranger, i.e.
I see myself as the stranger? My awareness is present and supplied with the best possible consciousness. Unfiltered I record:
people, smells, intersections, writings, traffic, body-language,
speeds, and sounds. Because of the newness to me, I record
nearly all impressions consciously – that‘s the reason why we
become exhausted so quickly in strange surroundings, we try
to orientate ourselves, there is a continuous comparison with
familiar inner images. My constitution or my mood determines
how I appreciate the known impressions when they appear. If
I am looking for something completely different, then familiar
images could disturb me (e.g. the current Coca-Cola logo). If
I‘m overwhelmed by the amount of impressions or if I do not
feel well, the appearance of something familiar can provide an
anchor and support.
At this point, one is referred to our Nairobi-impressions
Seeing Habits, Art and Context
When related to art, these expressions mean: what we
have already seen produces an inner map in us in which we
try to place the ‘new’. Art‘s reputation is to be as ‘original’ as
possible. If it is ‘original’, it cannot be reproduced. We try to
place what we observe into our map, although a work of art
embodies the wish of the artist not to be categorized, because
it is original. This contradiction is implicitly what we perceive
in the work of art. Here, different contexts play a role. I divide
them into a) my ego, b) my surroundings, c) the work‘s surroundings, d) the artist, and e) the artist‘s surroundings.
• My ego:
My immediate personal constitution (I would react differently to strong colours if I had a headache), my personal preferences (What do I like? What do I know?), my educational
background (in this case: How much does art interest me in
general, and thus the artist in particular?)
39
Gesehene in unsere wie auch immer ausgebildete innere Landkarte „Kunst“ einzuordnen, wobei das Kunstwerk den Wunsch des
Künstlers in sich trägt nicht einzuordnen sein zu wollen, weil es
originell sein möchte3. Diesen Widerspruch implizit nehmen wir
also das Kunstwerk wahr. Dabei spielen verschiedene Kontexte
eine Rolle. Ich unterteile sie in a) mein Ich, b) meine Umgebung,
c) das Werk und seine Umgebung, d) den Künstler und e) die Umgebung des Künstlers.
• Zum Kontext meines Ichs zählt u.a.:
Meine persönliche momentane Verfassung (mit Kopfschmerzen
werde ich auf grelle Farben beispielsweise anders reagieren als normalerweise), meine persönlichen Vorlieben (was mag ich? Was kenne ich?), meine Vorbildung (in diesem Fall: wie sehr und in welchem
Ausmaße beschäftigt mich Kunst allgemein oder dieser Künstler im
Besonderen?)
• Zum Kontext meiner Umgebung zählen:
Wo befinde ich mich, fühle ich mich wohl? Erlaubt es die Umgebung, dass ich mich auf das Werk einlassen kann (Störgeräusche, neue
Gerüche etc. färben die Wahrnehmung des Werkes)
• Zum Kontext des Werkes zählen:
Hat das Werk die Umgebung die es „braucht“?4 Weiße Wände,
Licht, Stille... all dies wirkt auf unsere Wahrnehmung.
• Zum Kontext des Künstlers zählen:
Was war des Künstlers Intention („was will uns der Künstler damit sagen?!“), was waren seine Prozesse, sein innerer Dialog im Werkentstehungsprozess? Welche Rolle spielt die Biografie des Künstlers?
vieler Künstler*innen, warum sie künstlerisch tätig sind, bekommt man die Antwort: Um mich selbst auszudrücken. Dies entspricht dem Wunsch nach Originalität, nach Unverwechselbarkeit, nach Einzigartigkeit.
3 Diesen Wunsch unterstelle ich den meisten Künstler*innen.
4 Das Werk selbst „braucht“ nicht eine bestimmte Umgebung. Gleichwohl achten
beispielsweise Museen darauf das auf der materiellen Ebene für das Wohlergehen
des Werkes gesorgt ist (Temperatur, Licht, Schutz vor menschlichen Ausdünstungen). Hier ist aber die seelische Ebene gemeint: Wenn ich mich in das Werk
„einfühle“, „fühlt“ sich das Werk wohl wo es ist? - Gleichbedeutend im künstlerischen Prozess: Hat das Werk was es braucht oder will ich die Dinge (an)tun?
40
• My surroundings:
Do I feel good where I am? Do my surroundings allow me
to concentrate on the artwork (noises, new smells, etc. taint the
perception of the work)
• The work:
Does the artwork have the environment it needs? White
walls, light, silence... they all effect our perception.
• The artist:
What was the artist‘s intention (in German, we have a saying “Was will uns der Künstler damit sagen?“ – “What does
the artist want to tell us?”), what were the processes, his inner
dialogue in the production process? What role does the artist‘s
biography play?
• The artist‘s surroundings:
Under which conditions is the work produced, to what extent is the environment itself a theme, to what extent is the
context of the manufacturing process visible in the work: is it
hidden, accented, or ignored?
From the differentiation it is clear how many different contexts there are and which influence they have on our perception. It is not an exhaustive list, rather a first attempt which can
be further subdivided.
Nairobi: Us as Foreigners, the Metropolis and Art
Us:
‘We’ are seven students from all over Germany, from different fields of study, with different relations to art and Nairobi/
Kenya/Eastern Africa. We need to reflect on our subjective
view of the art which we found in Nairobi. It is only possible to understand our presentations about our experiences in
our individual contexts. Thus, we selected a form for the interviews where the artist, if possible, is not influenced by us. Our
subjective impressions are found in individual contributions on
Nairobi. Combined, they represent the tinted ‘glasses’ through
• Zum Kontext der Umgebung des Künstlers zählen:
Unter welchen Umständen ist das Werk entstanden5, inwieweit wird die Umgebung im Werk selbst thematisiert, inwieweit
ist der Kontext der Entstehungsgeschichte im Werk spürbar: wird
er versteckt, hervorgehoben, außer Acht gelassen?
Anhand dieser Gliederung mag deutlich werden, wie viele
verschiedenen Kontexte es gibt und welchen Einfluss sie auf unsere Wahrnehmung ausüben. Diese Aufzählung erhebt nicht den
Anspruch auf Vollständigkeit, vielmehr stellt es eine erste Überlegung dar, die weiter zu differenzieren wäre.
which our discussions on the impressions made by today‘s art
in Nairobi are appreciated.
Whenever possible, in our interviews we asked about the
effect of the surroundings on the creation of the artwork. We
also asked the artists about the effects of the environment. The
opinions differed. The painter and actress Jackie Karuti said:
“Nairobi does influence me totally“, whereas Anthony Wanjou,
a sculptor, implied that it made no difference where he worked
Nairobi: Wir als Fremde, die Metropole und die Kunst
Wir
Wir, sieben Studierende aus ganz Deutschland, aus unterschiedlichen Studienrichtungen, mit verschieden ausgeprägten
Bezügen zur Kunst und Nairobi/Kenia/Ostafrika, müssen unseren
subjektiven Blick auf die Kunst, die uns in Nairobi begegnet ist,
unter diesen Gesichtspunkten reflektieren. Unsere Darstellungen
über unsere Erfahrungen sind nur unter unseren individuellen Kontexten zu sehen und zu verstehen. Deswegen haben wir uns für die
Form der Interviews entschieden, in dem sich die Künstler*innen
weitestgehend ohne unseren Einfluss zur Sprache bringen können6. In den einzelnen Beiträgen zu unseren Eindrücken von Nairobi sind unsere individuellen subjektiven Wahrnehmungen dargestellt. Sie zusammengenommen können die Brille darstellen, durch
die hindurch wir uns im Auseinandersetzungsprozess mit den Einblicken gegenwärtiger Kunst in Nairobi befinden.
In unseren Interviews haben wir, sofern es sich anbot, des
öfteren die Frage nach dem Einfluss der Umgebung auf das Kunstschaffen gestellt. Wir haben die Künstler*innen auch direkt nach
5 Marc Chagall beispielsweise hat deswegen so viele kleinformatige Aquarelle
gemalt, weil sie unter nationalsozialistischer Herrschaft entstanden. Er wurde
der „Entarteten Kunst“ zugerechnet; viele seiner früher entstandenen Werke
wurden konfisziert.
6 Natürlich haben unsere Interviewfragen Einfluss auf den Gesprächsverlauf.
Wir haben qualitative Interviews geführt, sprich uns im Vorhinein auf einzelne
Punkte verständigt, die uns interessieren (Biografie, warum Kunst?, Werkentstehungsprozesse, Einfluss von Nairobi auf die eigene Kunst, wer sind die
Konsument*innen etc.), diese aber nur dann in das Gespräch einfließen lassen
wenn es sich „richtig“ anfühlte.
– “No, I don´t think it is important to live here in Nairobi. (...)
Nairobi does not influence me at all“. But he described how
he allows bars and streets to inspire him while observing and
studying people. The painter Dickson Kaloki works similarly:
he walks through town and the slums to get the energy and
mood needed to influence his working process. Nairobi does
a lot for the owners of the Banana Hill Art Gallery, since the
Kenyan art market is there. People interested in art come to
41
dem Einfluss von Nairobi auf ihre Kunst gefragt. Die Meinungen
gingen hier auseinander. Die Malerin und Performancekünstlerin
Jackie Karuti beispielsweise sagt: „Nairobi does influence me totally“, wohingegen Anthony Wanjau, ein Bildhauer, aussagt, es
spiele keine Rolle wo er künstlerisch tätig sei - „No, I don´t think it
is important to live here in Nairobi. (...) Nairobi does not influence
me at all.“. Er beschreibt aber auch, wie er die Stadt mit ihren Bars
und Straßen dazu benutzt, sich inspirieren zu lassen, Menschen
zu beobachten und sie zu studieren. Ähnlich arbeitet der Maler
Dickson Kaloki: Er lässt sich durch die Stadt, die Slums treiben um
ihre Energie, ihre Stimmung aufzunehmen um diese im Arbeitsprozess in das Werk einfließen zu lassen. Die Eigentümer der Banana
Hill Art Gallery sprechen Nairobi eine tragende Rolle zu, da der
kenianische Kunstmarkt hier ansässig ist. Kunstinteressierte Menschen kommen nach Nairobi, um sich mit Kunst zu beschäftigen,
sie zu sichten, sie zu erwerben. In Nairobi findet eine Verdichtung
statt. Diese Verdichtung, die Überlagerungen entstehen durch die
Menschen, die Vielzahl der Möglichkeiten, durch die gegenseitige
Inspiration, durch die Lebendigkeit: „(…) It´s the energy. It´s the
energy of Nairobi, it´s the people, it´s what people stand for, it´s
what people do not stand for, it´s the ideals, it´s the chaos. Really.
Because Nairobi is really not functional. I hate it most of the time,
but I´m still here.“, wie Jackie Karuti beschreibt.
Es wird ersichtlich, dass es unterschiedliche Auffassungen
gibt, inwieweit die Stadt einen Einfluss auf die Kunst auslöst.
Für uns als Fremde sind die Eigenarten einer Stadt deutlich spürbar, weil sie neu sind – und zugleich unterliegt unsere Wahrnehmung unserem geprägtem Blick und ist demnach nicht offen und
frei. Aber aus dem Zusammenspiel der individuellen Sicht der
Künstler*innen sowie unserer Wahrnehmung kann sich vielleicht
ein erstes Bild erschließen – die Wahrnehmungen von „innen“ wie
von „außen“ ergänzen sich bestenfalls.
Meine persönliche Einschätzung ist, dass es eine sehr große
Rolle spielt in welchem Kontext ich künstlerisch arbeite. Ich empfehle daher den Leser*innen dieses Kataloges unsere Beiträge
durch die Brille unserer Eindrücke zu lesen und zu begreifen... dies
ist durch das Lesen unserer Beiträge zur Stadt Nairobi in Ansätzen
möglich.
42
Nairobi to deal, to view, and to buy. There is a concentration in
Nairobi. This concentration, layering comes about through the
people, the many possibilities, through the inspiration and the
liveliness: “[…] It´s the energy. It´s the energy of Nairobi, it´s
the people, it´s what people stand for, it´s what people do not
stand for, it´s the ideals, it´s the chaos. Really. Because Nairobi
is really not functional. I hate it most of the time, but I‘m still
here“, Jackie Karuti describes.
It is clear that the there are different views regarding the
effect of the town on art. For us foreigners, the specialties of
a town are clearly felt since they are new – and at the same,
time our impressions are subject to our own views and are thus
open and free. But the interplay of the individual view of the
artist and our perception can perhaps come together in a first
picture – the perceptions both from the ‘inside’ and from the
‘outside’ complement each other very well.
My personal assessment is that the context in which I work
plays a very big part. Therefore, I recommend the reader of this
catalogue to read and understand our contributions through
our tinted glasses... this is possible by reading our contributions on Nairobi.
Communal Studio at GoDown Arts Centre
43
Tonney Mugo
44
Tonney Mugo
Artist at Kuona Trust Art Centre
„Nairobi Payments“
Nairobi, as a city with a multiplicity of distinctive cultures and
urban planning, needs to be re-thought and include the creatives’
talents, and create a new way of seeing things with a new perspective. That means not allowing ourselves to be engrained limited by opinions and traditions, as is currently the case, the choices
being left to only a select few engineers and city planners.
The three central pillars – talent, technology, and tolerance
– should be used as a creative help in branding, or in the city to
underline the corporate features or values that stand out.
Government and public support is the key that helps creating
a homogeneous society and enables us to tolerate each other.
Tonney Mugo: Ask us
45
Fred Abuga
46
Fred Abuga
Artist at Kuona Trust Art Centre
What is art for you? How does the city of Nairobi influence you? What
do you think is the meaning of art in society?
Art is a personal language distinct from any other which can
be used to express ideas and feelings.
The city of Nairobi influences my work in many ways, but the
greatest influence is that it offers a different colour scheme and
mood, different from the fresh rural scenery.
The meaning of art in society is in a way to cloth the community. With beauty, to make life worth living and appreciating
simple things that aide our day to day activities.
Fred Abuga: From the Posho Mill
47
Cyrus Kabiru
48
Interview with Cyrus Kabiru
Artist at Kuona Trust Art Centre
Interviewers: Anna Lafrentz and Stefanie Habben
Please tell us something about you and your art and everything else you
want to tell.
I‘m Cyrus Kabiru, I‘m an artist. I‘m a Kenyan artist. No, I‘m
not a Kenyan artist, I‘m an artist from Kenya. I paint, I sculpt, and
I‘m known for designing the eyewear – I call them the C-stunners.
C is for my name, Cyrus. For most of my work, I recycle trash to
give it a second chance. As you can see on my glasses, they‘re all
out of a different material and the same applies
for my sculptures. I don‘t have them here now, because I‘m doing an exhibition in Sudan, and all my
sculptures are there. With my glasses I‘m doing
an exhibition in a studio museum in Harlem, New
York. So, some of my glasses and photos are there.
You said you‘re not a Kenyan artist but an artist from
Kenya. What is the difference for you?
A Kenyan artist is an artist who‘s still in Kenya, and who doesn‘t want to be an international
artist. It‘s like I‘m putting myself too much in Kenya. But I‘m an artist from Kenya, so if I say I‘m a
Kenyan Artist that means I can‘t be an international artist. That‘s why I say I‘m an artist from Kenya. And I grew
up in Nairobi, I live in Nairobi, and I have a studio in Nairobi. My
life is in Nairobi.
Was it necessary to leave Kenya for your work?
Yeah, I think I can survive outside Kenya. Most of the people I visit don‘t want me to go back. I‘ve travelled a lot, but
most of the people I met when I travelled, they said they don‘t
want me to go back to Kenya; they want me to stay there. I
met a designer, and she asked me whether I can live outside of
Kenya, and I think I cannot live outside Kenya.
Why do you always choose to come back and what inspires you?
I think I get inspired when I visit some places in Kenya. I like
travelling, as well. I like to try different cultures and to experiment
with them on my work. And also I‘m kind of a nomad artist, and
you know nomads always travel, always move from one place to
the other. Also my tribe, my culture – in my culture
we are hunters and gatherers. So, sometimes I hunt,
I gather. That‘s how I do.
What‘s your history? Where do you come from and how
was your way to become an artist?
I think I just got myself into being an artist. I
grew up in a family where they‘re all technicians.
But I started making my art when I was really
young. And it was a bit hard to start. Although, I
never knew I was an artist. I came to knew that I‘m
an artist when I was already grown up.
My dad is the one that inspired me to do the
glasses. ‚Cause he got the real glasses when he was
young and one day he messed with them. So he used to say ‚Cyrus,
if you want to survive in my house, you design your own eyewear.‘
So I started designing a long time ago. And I keep designing them.
So, I can‘t explain when I started doing art.
When I went to school, I used to exchange like this: ‚When
you do my homework, I give you my artwork. You do my exam...‘
and so on. I never liked being busy reading. Even up to now, I
really don‘t like to. I feel like I‘m wasting time. I can‘t sit. When I
read, I feel like I‘m idle – and I hate to be idle. So yeah, that‘s how
I started doing art. And I used to have my own home studio.
Cyrus Kabiru:
A Trillion Trees
49
My dad never supported me and he used to feel like I‘m a
loser. This year, my dad visited my studio for the first time. That‘s
when he came here and he walked around the place, and then I
asked him what kind of art he liked and he said ‚I like the guy who
designs the eyewear and the sculptures made of bottle tops‘ and I
told him ‚Yeah, that‘s me‘ and he was happy.
Now, he says he‘s ready to support me if I needed any help.
But for now, I don‘t think I need any help from him. But I need
mental help, like talking and discussing. I like history, so sometimes he tells me about history. In most of my work, I relate with
history. Most of my glasses have a title, and I title them with a
story.
Could you describe your working progress
on your glasses?
Cyrus Kabiru:
Asian Tears
My work is not craft. So when I do, I
need to think first. ‚Cause I can‘t do something without an idea of the reason why
I‘m doing what I‘m doing. The glasses,
they need to have a story first. After the
story, I express the story in the artwork.
I also have a series of masks, whereby I
have Asian masks, Caribbean masks, Indian masks — all kinds of masks. Before I
make them, I think about something happening, something like a story I‘ve heard and things like that.
Now, you are quite successful on an international level. How did this
work out for you? Who was supporting you first?
I‘m not yet successful. Nowadays, I‘m a bit known internationally. Locally, I‘m not yet known.
Why do you think you‘re internationally known but not regionally?
When I get international invitations, the people there treat me
like someone famous. You feel like you‘re someone famous, you‘re
an artist, you‘re respected. They receive me with much respect.
And the reason why my work is getting there is because, I think,
the internet helped me a lot. ‚Cause it‘s hard to do an exhibition
50
in Kenya. We don‘t have galleries and the galleries we have, they
have their own people they deal with. I already created my own
way of selling my work.
I don‘t rely much on galleries or museums. The internet plays
a big role; most of my work is known because of Facebook, my
blog, my website and things like that.
What do
Nairobi?
you
think
of
the
appreciation
of
art
here
in
I think that Kenyan art for now is not much appreciated, yet.
I think Kenya has problems.
Right now, I‘m doing some workshops, where I teach how to
design by using trash. And I try to show people the advantage of
having an artwork. I used to give people
my works, then I started selling my works
for 5000 Ksh, that‘s almost 50-60 USD, and
most of the people bought them.
Recently, I sold three of my glasses for
3000 USD. So, you see the difference from
60 USD to 3000 USD. When I was in Italy,
I managed to sell some for 2000 USD. So,
that‘s how I‘m trying to show the Kenyans
the advantage of having artworks in their
houses. ‘Cause someone that bought my
work for 60 USD can now sell it for a lot of
money if they wanted to. You can invest in art.
Apart from that, we need to move from the era of hanging
calendars in the house. We need to move from that an era to hang
artwork, real artwork. Something you can communicate with. Art
communicates. And if you have an artwork in your house, there‘s
no loneliness. Art gives life. I‘m trying to show the people the reasons for buying artwork. That‘s the thing I‘m trying to work on.
That‘s my work as an artist, that‘s our work as artists. We need to
change the mentality, especially locally, of buying big cars. That‘s
not life. I think we need to move from buying big cars to start buying art and also to invest in art.
Are you content with your life now?
I think I don‘t have a hard life. I never thought I‘d be who I
am, today. I grew up to be the person I am, little by little. I‘m not
yet as rich as I want to be, although, right now I‘m living the life
I used to admire. I used to admire travelling, driving, having my
own place.
Soon, I want to have my own studio space here, so that‘s a
project I‘m working on, because I want people to visit my working
space. So maybe next year, I try to have my own space and a place
to invite international artists for a residency and things like that.
My work is going well. I‘m selling my work.
These days, I‘m dealing with the big collectors. This year alone, I met four collectors from different places. They just came here
to buy my work. Three days ago, I sold four of my works in New
York to one of the biggest collectors in the States. I‘m trying to
create my own field of selling my work but I don‘t want to benefit
myself. That‘s why I‘m saying that I want to have my own space,
where I can also invite the creative guys. I want to create a creative hub, bringing them together to see how it can go and how
we can work.
Thank you!
3
Cyrus Kabiru:
Nyafifi
33
Cyrus Kabiru:
Foot Print
51
Renee Akitelek Mboya
52
Findings? Exploring Nairobi
by Renee Akitelek Mboya - writer
Explore:
The impulse to explore is always towards new things, but a
new movement of art is exploring old things in looking at how to
re-use and repurpose non-art functional objects into things that
challenge our perceptions of the world and of our environment;
and East African artists are at the peak of this fast rising trend.
Found objects art is art that is found. Though it may seem
obvious, many contemporary artists interpret this as rediscovered,
repurposed or reused. These objects are used to evoke emotions
felt at the time, or powerful concepts and given purpose and significance by those who find and conceptualise them into artwork.
From its origins with Pablo Picasso’s “Still Life With Chair Caning” to Marcel Duchamp’s “readymades” which designated unaltered everyday objects as art, the best example being “The Fountain” which was a standard urinal mounted on a pedestal – found
objects art has grown from strength to strength and currently
finds its most robust expression in the move towards the use of
recycled objects and the growing popularity of street art incorporating reflective subjects using materials found on site.
In our exploration of contemporary art in Kenya and in East
Africa at large, found objects art speaks volumes to the ways in
which our society has grown and the ways in which we choose to
express ourselves as indicative and representative of our environment. In other words, it does not have to be pretty, but it definitely
has to be real.
The growing popularity of found objects art in East Africa did
not start recently. For a long time, the environment has influenced
conversations around art and culture, and it was only a matter of
time before these conversations began to show themselves in popular culture and art – the most obvious example being the rise of
music groups such as UKOO Fulani and Kalamashaka in the 1990’s
who spoke against an environment that was aesthetically corrupt
and polluted, speaking from personal experience about their local
neighbourhoods which bordered the sprawling Dandora dumpsite
– a thirty acre wasteland that was officially closed in 1975 but has
remained in use to date, existing as a constant health hazard to
residents in neighbouring estates and as a testament to a city on
the brink of progress.
As these trends encroach into the culture of visual arts, the
examples for them become all the more obvious with the early example of the popularity of the use of recycled materials within arts
communities and in the formation of new visual trends and cultures. Years before recycling became de rigueur and repurposing
a popular mode for artists, many East African artists made careers
as “found object” artists – albeit not purposely, its origins in the
East African art scene having been forged out of necessity. African art legends such as Tinga Tinga built the strength of their artistic movements working in unconventional materials which often
excluded works on paper or canvas. Using industrial paints and
working on cardboard, cloth, and rubber mostly salvaged from
industrial waste sites, they depicted the closeness and intimacy of
their congenital heritage with the struggle towards modernity and
building publics to whom they could converse.
Today, found objects art depicts the same struggles, though it
has become more meditative and self-conscious as its significance
has grown. Among regional artists exploiting found objects art,
we see its significance in its reliance on the context in which it
is applied or used. The result is a blurring of the original concept
of what things are and are not art, as well as a challenging of the
nature of what is considered to be art.
53
A favourite among found object artists is Cyrus Kabiru, a
young artist based at the Kuona Trust Centre for Visual Arts in
Hurlingham, Nairobi. Using repurposed everyday objects, ranging
from spoons and bottle tops, to the most intimate fragments of
computer circuits and transistor radios – Cyrus has built an international brand around his collection of non-functional eyewear,
fondly dubbed and worn as “C-Stunners” which have a certain
energy and playfulness that captures the sensibility and attitude
of the youth generation in Nairobi. Portraying the aspiration of
popular culture towards ‘bling’, the C-Stunners reflect the ingenuity and resourcefulness of people; the lenses providing a new
filter and giving a fresh perspective to the world we live in and
influencing not only outward appearances and perceptions but as
well, our collective frame of mind and our reflection on ourselves.
Cyrus’ work embodies his role as a collector of Nairobi cast offs,
a very personal response to a city with a reactive personality, and
is a key example of the very private ways in which found objects
art can influence us in ways that other art forms have often fallen
short. Our waste is indeed reflective of who we are.
Another artist, Gor Soudan, also based at the Kuona Trust
Centre for Visual Arts here in Nairobi, uses found objects in a different way. Soudan uses recycled materials, such as juala (polythene
bags), reclaimed wood, scrap metal, and plastic; distorting them
and adapting them beyond their original purpose as a reflection
on how the personality of modern society reflects the conspiracy
of the ultimate cover up – that nothing and no one is really what
they claim to be and that to trust one’s environment is all at once
the ultimate error in judgement and the path to true freedom.
Soudan’s latest series, “Angry Birds” is an on-going experiment
with discarded materials, where through his work he reflects on
the character of the crow (which we have to assume represents us
– our society, and our humanity or lack of it) – scavenging refuse,
adapting to constantly shifting surroundings; and growing from
strength to strength in these adaptations. That is, we are evolving.
The question is, what are we evolving into; and Gor Soudan’s
choice of medium – found objects – is not only significant in this
case, it is obvious. This is the generation that wants it all and they
believe – rightly or wrongly – that they can have it all. They are
54
hyper-conscious of the excesses of liberal economics and democracy and yet, they also inevitably aspire to be mass consumers.
So, here we are. We have turned our world upside down;
crowded it with our bodies and our waste. Our elevation of aesthetics has led us to desperately and continually hide from view
the realities of our destruction. We have isolated ourselves from
nature and scorned anything that comes to us with the label of
organic and authentic to our humanity. The movement towards
found objects art – in Nairobi, in East Africa and in the world – is
a move by artists to reveal the realities of who and what humanity
is, by presenting us with our own ‘things’ as a way of forcing us
to take an honest look at ourselves.
Conceptual art, of which found objects art is a great part,
proclaims the primacy of the artist’s idea, but more so it places
the artist in the position of a voyeur, the uninvited observer into
our society – our lives, our homes and ourselves. Therefore, the
art object and the form contained within it, in the strict sense, are
secondary.
In exploring found objects art, the current tendencies and emphasis of contemporary art towards self-criticism cannot ignore
the relevance of re-using the things that we have used before,
and using differently the things that we use every day. We have
to suppose after all, that while most art is geared at making us
reflect on ourselves, found objects art is our society looking back
at us and passing judgement on the ways we have chosen to be.
When all is said and done, found objects as a form of art – and a
fast growing one at that – might be the opportunity that we have
been given as a society and a species to redeem ourselves. In
paying attention to the progress of found object art, we have the
advantage to see ourselves through a mirror that is unaltered and
without flaws. The mirror of who we have chosen to be and how
we have chosen to be it.
In looking at the ways in which found objects – things that
have in essence been cast off and rejected – can re-enter our world
and become things of incredible significance and beauty, we find
that we are not as beautiful as we thought we were.
Communal Studios
at Kuona Trust
55
Patrick Mukabi
56
Interview with Patrick Mukabi
Artist at the GoDown Arts Centre
Interviewers: Anna Lafrentz and Isabella Schulz
Could you first introduce yourself?
My name is Patrick Mukabi and I am basically trained as a
graphic designer, but for the last 15-16 years, I have been doing
fine arts. I‘m based in Nairobi; I grew up in Nairobi and Mombasa.
And I am a figurative painter, I paint human figures.
So you have been
doing arts for a long
time now. How did
you become an artist,
or how did you choose
to do it for a living?
I went to a primary school in Mombasa and we had an
English class, so you
use art to write English words. You do
a drawing and then
you write a composition, and the teacher would mark it.
So this school was
very Catholic and
they used images
from the books from
Vatican, and things like that. And then, I think when I came back
to Nairobi again, I went to a high school where art was very much
a part of the whole thing. And I think just naturally I either would
have become a drawing teacher or a physicist.
Did you have art education at school?
Yes, right from primary school.
And if I get it right, at the moment, it is not a part of the curriculum?
Yes, it was stopped later on.
And do you have any explanations why it is not a part of the system
anymore? Do you see a lack in it?
I think the idea was that they said that art was not that important.
And then, they say people
draw in biology, they draw
in geography and also in history. So that is enough art;
that is what the feeling was.
But they forget that most of
the artists right now went
through the system and it
is very important to be out
there. The ‘eight-four-foursystem’ was broken and
music, art and agriculture
were very much a part of it
– this was how musicians,
famous musicians like “NameLess” or “Issa” came out. And later, they just decided to cancel it.
But if you go to the schools right now, there are three to four classes
for art every week. But during those classes, they do either maths or
English.
3
Patrick Mukabi:
A Bit Overdo
33
Patrick Mukabi:
Magi baridi
What inspired you to pass art education on to the younger generation?
I think it is because when I was based at the museum, we
57
used to have visits from the children‘s homes and after touring the
museum, they would come and dance, and art became part of it.
And then again you realize that the budget was not important. So
I just started to create a program. When we work with children,
they don‘t need money to buy a lot of stuff; we came up with
things around the museum. They can use things around the house,
in school, or where mummy and daddy work.
And why do you think art is so important?
44
Patrick Mukabi:
Mama Kibanda
4
Patrick Mukabi:
soda baridi
Basically, I have seen in my experiences that if you do art,
you become a creative thinker. Even in life, they start to think in
a creative way. So if somebody is bullying a child in school, the
child will look for a solution on their own before going to their
parents. If he wants to go
to the shopping centre and
there is a problem, he looks
for another solution. So it
makes the child very critical
and everything else. Because
each painting is a problem
that needs to be solved. That
is how art is a part of life. It
helps us to express ourselves.
How long have you been teaching children at art education?
I have been working with kids now for the last four years, a
lot of kids. With kids, I work maximum one hour. After one hour,
they can‘t think anymore. But I usually try to get the child to
become the one who drives the class, not me. If you force them,
it becomes silly maybe. If you let the child decide, they become
more interested and from that point on, they start discovering that
computers are also a part of the school right now. So several times
I tried to include the phone and a computer in class. We can do a
simple painting class, take a picture with the phone, and put it on
the computer and animate it with the same program.
58
What‘s your vision of society if you say that everybody can enjoy art and
art education?
Things become easier to solve, problems become easier to
solve, and also creativity in society is always good. For example
politicians, lawyers, and architects... the more exposed you are to
art, the more ideas come to your head, your brain becomes much
wider. I know it for a fact that when I meet clients who did art in
school, it is easier to explain them why I do what I do. If I meet
parents who have done art,
they push their kids earlier to
be interested in art as well.
So the kid has an open mind.
I was lucky, because my dad
was also a musician and my
mum is creative as well. So
they told me “Do anything
you want to.”
Coming back to you as an artist: What are your themes and
what inspires you?
Basically, I am inspired by the human body. When I draw people, I usually work with light and shadow; I do sketches, I draw
things I see on the way, people from where I live. I work with the
posture and sometimes the story behind it. But basically I just like
drawing human beings, this is my main theme.
How does the city of Nairobi influence you as an artist?
All my work is about Nairobi; mostly Nairobi and then Mombasa, because Mombasa is my second life or second place. From
the way I paint life in Nairobi, everyday things in Nairobi: Sometimes day, sometimes night, clubs at night, I used to paint a lot
of club life. Until some clubs banned me completely, so I don‘t go
there anymore. They ask: “Why don‘t you drink alcohol” and I say:
“My alcohol is gone.” But basically, all my work is actually influenced by Nairobi. It‘s the city where I was born.
How do you think people from Nairobi think about art?
From my exhibitions and my experiences, the more educated
they are, the more they become conservative. I do a series of cover
girls, for example. They come to my studio and I pay them to pose;
I just try to capture the plus-sized woman. And I have put them up
in some exhibitions. And the more people are educated, the more
they feel that it is not good. The less educated people would be
more interested in: “How did you manage to make the paint look
like a person; how did you sculpt it?” If I paint women with a big
bum and tight jeans, again the more educated feel: “Oh my god”.
So the less educated, the more open-minded they are. That is how
I get Nairobi a lot. I remember we did an exhibition at the French
culture centre and on Sundays they had to cover all my paintings.
Why? Because there is a Christian group that comes to pray and
they don‘t want to see them. The national museum also, they tried
to cover, but we found that if we cover, the people want to see. I
did a show in Karen and some of my paintings were taken by the
police. And I asked them “Why do you take the painting and not
the artist?”, because I am going to paint another one. So it’s been
like that.
Do you want to add anything?
But art is becoming better now. When I started, we had one
gallery and there was a lady called Ruth Schaffner, she was the
main. She actually didn‘t like my work, because she said, I painted
like a European. But she is the one who sold my first painting.
Now, any new artist can make it within one year. I had a lot of
students here; after one year, they become very big. So now it’s
more dynamic, competition is much bigger. And the audience is
also increasing. I am selling more to the locals than before. I sell to
doctors, lawyers, and even this way more than before.
Thank you!
3
Patrick Mukabi:
Mama Soko
59
Omosh Kindeh
60
Interview with Omosh Kindeh
Artist at Kuona Trust Art Centre
Interviewers: Anna Lafrentz and Stefanie Habben
Would you first tell us something about you and your art?
I‘m Omosh Kindeh, a visual artist. I like painting, sculpting
and my style is to portray the human habitat around Nairobi, different types of settlement, and the experiences that I see every day.
Then, I put them into canvas or into sculpture. I‘ve been an artist
since March 2000, and this is what I do every day.
On the side of my mum‘s family, I had the advantage to meet
her grandfather. So my mum‘s grandfather was a sculptor and I
think I took that from him. And then, my mum‘s father was in the
military and, in fact, that‘s where my mum and my dad met, and
the only thought they had on me was not to get interested in becoming a soldier. I understood that I have a talent and kept on doing
it. Maybe when I was in class 5, I was about 10 years old, I used
to do small crafts. My art teacher used to like it and encouraged
me, and he‘s my friend up to date and he likes that I‘m an artist,
as well. To me, I see that as a success.
What affects you and what inspires you?
It depends, but actually I get my inspiration from the environment and the society I live in which is quite different from
my childhood. I also choose to memorize my childhood, and then
come to current endeavours and experiences of everyday life, and
this makes me an artist.
And what are the differences between your childhood and your life
now?
I grew up in a military setting where everything was arranged
and disciplined. But outside here, everything is free and everyone
minds his own business. And when I was a kid, I was a kid to
these barracks, so everybody was my parent, anyone could punish
me. That makes the difference between my childhood and now.
How would you describe your life as an artist here in the city of Nairobi?
I think it‘s easier in Nairobi, given that Nairobi is cosmopolitan. So if I go, for example, to Nyeri, I find Kikuyus there. If I go to
Kisumu, I find Luos there, but Nairobi is cosmopolitan, and that‘s
where my art is being celebrated. So that‘s why I prefer it here.
But if I reach a point at which I want to establish myself, then Nairobi would be just to market myself, doing exhibitions. In terms of
establishment, Nairobi is not the right place for me.
How did you make the decision to live as an artist?
Can you do art for a living?
I started practicing it, now it‘s like I‘m perfecting it. I joined
Kuona Trust at the 10th of March 2000, and I‘ve been living
through with art. Though, challenges have been there, and I know
how to go through it. At the moment, I try to invest in things, so
that when art is not paying my bills, I can pay my bills from other
investments.
How do Kenyan people see art in general? Do they appreciate?
Less than 1% appreciate. They think art is for rich people or
wazungu, white people.
But Kenya has rich people, as well.
Yeah, they do.
But they‘re not interested?
Probably on a professional level. ‘Cause I‘ve had organizations
that are buying my pieces, but not individuals, actually.
61
Why do you think that is?
I think we need a lot of education to educate our locals that
they come on. We are trying to educate them, but still they have
other priorities to spend the money for something else than buying art.
Is there any art education in school?
In our syllabus, it used to be, but now you find it only in private schools, ‘cause it was cut off in the system of education. So
you only find art education in private schools, or on a college level,
but we don‘t have any serious art academies. Though, we have Kenyatta University, Buruburu Institute of Fine Arts, and a few other
creatives. But the colleges are expensive if you compare it with
other disciplines. They‘re charging very high to study art. Just like
I told you, no serious art academy.
Did you teach yourself autodidactically?
My art teacher in primary school level was an artist. Back
then, I learned from him how I to use oil paint when I was a little
kid. At that time, there was a subject like art and craft in school.
But there are some materials I just came up with when I started
doing art professionally. In school, I never knew these things that
I‘m using now.
62
Do you want to talk about your working progress? What are your first
steps before you start painting?
If you look carefully at my paintings, you will see there‘s some
texture. I make fire when the weather is like this, just to keep
warm. After the fire is gone, I like to use the ash and the soil in my
studio, because it‘s an open space. When the canvas is still wet,
I apply the soil mixed with the ash and then leave it to dry for a
while. I hate using new materials. So that‘s how I make them look
older. Then, I‘m comfortable to start working on it.
And what are the themes of your work?
Whenever I‘m making my trips to and from my studio, I pass
a lot of different kinds of settlements and so I pick which one I
want, sometimes I even mix. Like this area looks very posh, and
where I come from it looks old and lower class. So I mix all these
and create something beautiful everybody wants to own. That‘s
how I always work.
Thank you!
Omosh Kindeh:
Concrete Jungle
63
Sabrina Loll
Nairobi: Stadt der Lüfte und Gerüche
Mein persönlicher Eindruck von Nairobi
living rooms Überlagerung II
64
Wir haben es uns zur Aufgabe gemacht, ebenfalls ein individuelles Spotlight auf die Stadt Nairobi zu werfen. Ich habe
mir dazu als Grundlage Jürgen Hasses Text „Atmosphären des
Urbanen – Stadt als Gefühlsraum“ genommen. In dem Text untergliedert der Autor die
Objekte der Wahrnehmungen, um eine neue
Art des Zugangs zu ermöglichen. Wie empfinde
ich Urbanität? Aus den
vorgeschlagenen
Kategorien habe ich mir zwei
heraus gesucht, die mich
besonders interessiert haben: Luft und Geruch. Die
weiteren Kategorien lauten: Baukultur, Licht und
Schatten,
Atmosphären
der Farben / Stimmungen,
Geräusche, Rhythmen der
Bewegungen, Blicke und
An-Blicke, Kleidung und
Habitus von Menschen,
Anwesenheit von Tieren und Pflanzen, Präsenz von Ding-Familien sowie Verkehrsmittel. Diese Kategorien wurden anhand
europäischer Städte entwickelt. Es stellt sich die Frage, inwiefern sich diese Kategorien grundsätzlich auch für afrikanische
Städte eignen. Ich empfand es aber als einen interessanten Ansatz, mich der Stadt Nairobi zu nähern. Die Konzentration auf
einzelne Aspekte half mir dabei, mich nicht von den Eindrücken
überfluten zu lassen.
Die ersten Tage habe ich mich nicht in der Lage gefühlt
überhaupt etwas zu „er-fühlen“. Ich war komplett überfordert.
Folgende Notizen aus meinem Buch können dies vielleicht wiedergeben:
„Verdichtung. Überlagerung. Alles ist unmittelbar und direkt. Treiben
lassen – so „funktioniert“ die Stadt
am besten für mich. Vertrauen. Planung funktioniert nicht. Du bist da
wenn du da bist. Hektik gehört nicht
dazu. Rhythmen laufen gleichmäßig –
wenn nur Menschen unterwegs sind.
Autos, Matatus, Busse bringen durch
Stop and Go einen anderen Klang –
es läuft konträr. Es ist nicht „fassbar“
mit deutsch geprägten RhythmusVerständnis. Es ergibt sich ein ganz
anderer Klang aus knatternden, röhrenden Motoren, die Äußerungen und
Klänge von Menschen... es summt und
vibriert.“
Mit dem Kennenlernen verschiedener Orte in der Stadt, mit dem regelmäßigen sich bewegen
und dem Entwickeln eines vertrauten Umfeldes veränderte sich
der Blick. Die Sinneseindrücke wirkten nicht mehr so unmittelbar
und direkt, was zur Folge hatte, dass ich mich den Dingen wieder
nähern mochte (Vorher hatte ich gefühlt keine Entscheidungsfreiheit. Es war alles da, ganz nah.) Ich habe mich mit zwei Aspekten
der oben genannten Aufzählung besonders beschäftigt, da sie mir
charakteristisch für die Stadt erscheinen: Gerüche und Luft. Nach-
crowd Überlagerung III
65
folgend meine Aufzeichnungen:
Gerüche
Die Gerüche eröffnen mir einen ganz intensiven Zugang zu
Nairobi.
Gerüche SIND Nairobi.
Die Süße von frischen Ananasstücken.
Der faulige Gestank von verwesendem Müll um den Roundabout.
Das Parfüm der Menschen um mich herum. Oder der Schweiß.
Es riecht nach Gummi.
Es riecht nach Verbrennung – seien es die Motoren oder sei
es, dass an den Straßenecken Menschen etwas verbrennen.
Es riecht giftig, beißend und schneidend.
Es ist direkt und unmittelbar.
Es ist wie dir widerfahrende Gewalt.
Brisen kommen und gehen, sie überlagern sich, kreieren aus
ihrem Zusammenspiel neue Düfte; selten aber sind sie zart.
Fast immer massiv, direkt. konfrontierend.
Gerüche lassen dir nicht die Wahl. Nicht du entscheidest, ob
du dich ihnen näherst. Sie umwehen dich, sie umgeben dich,
beim Wahrnehmen sind sie bereits in dir, werden zu einem
Teil deiner selbst.
Beißend. Alles Motorisierte riecht beißend. Ich halte manchmal den Atem an oder versuche ganz flach zu atmen um nicht
soviel aufnehmen zu müssen.
Gerüche sind überall. Sie riechen erdig, feurig, schneidend, als
ob sie meine Schleimhäute zersetzen.
(17.12.)
66
Luft
Die Luft ist als Strömung sehr präsent. Böen wehen meist die ganze
Zeit. Das Strömen der Luft ist nicht gleichmäßig. Es sind nicht identifizierbare Rhythmen. Es weht und schweift. Die Luft ist sehr präsent. Sie
macht, dass ich meine Körpergrenze permanent wahrnehme. Die Luft
ist kühl und frisch. Sie transportiert Geräusche und Gerüche. Sie sorgt
für Kühle, für Abgrenzung, obwohl sie verbindet. Sie ist immer in Bewegung. Wirkt zielgerichtet, aber wirbelt. Es ist Chaos ohne chaotisch
zu wirken. Eher frisch, lebendig, wirbelig, sprunghaft – aber auch sanft,
umschmeichelnd.
(18.12.)
Der Begriff der Überlagerung, des Zufälligen, der Verdichtung ließ
mich nicht los. Zurück in Deutschland gestaltet ich drei Bilder, um diese Gefühle auszudrücken: traffic jam – Überlagerung I, living rooms –
Überlagerung II und crowd – Überlagerung III. Dafür arbeitete ich mit
verschiedenen Fotos dieser drei Kategorien, die ich übereinander schichtete. Diese Mischung aus sich zufällig Ergebendem und gewollt Gestaltetem drückt für mich die Verdichtung im urbanen Raum aus.
traffic jam Überlagerung I
67
Rosemary Ahono
68
Interview with Rose Ahono
Artist at Kuona Trust Art Centre
Interviewers: Stefanie Habben and Isabella Schulz
Could you please introduce yourself.
How does your gender influence your work?
My name is Rosemarie Ahono, and I am a painter, printer, and
maker. I mostly paint figures or portraits, but I do my portraits in
pressures of people. I guess that is what I do most of the time.
I paint a lot of kids and women. I think women do a lot of
work. Even when they go home, I see women going to the fields
for work. So I think women are very strong, wild, and they do lots
of hard work and even controlling money and finances.
Could you describe the technique of your painting?
My technique is oil. I use the polish knife, and the technique
probably is impressions.
Why did you choose this kind of technique?
I like the texture. I got not enough texture from the brush, so
I switched to the knife just to experiment and I liked it. So I mixed
two techniques.
There are just a few women here in Kuona Trust. Is it hard for women
to work here as an artist?
Women get caught up in social issues of life, like getting married and having kids, maybe your husband doesn’t want you to
work. It is hard to juggle and to balance the truth, and if you are
single, it is even harder, because you have to support your family
or your children.
How can you manage your life as a female artist?
Because I am awesome. Seriously, the most important thing is
harmony at home. So my husband and me, we are best friends. He
understands me, I understand him and he understands that art is
important for me. When I started painting, I was happy.
How is it like to work with so many men in the art centre?
I am very strong, wild, and I don’t really care.
What is the most special thing about your work?
The kids are close to being the most special thing. They are
directional, especially the kids that I see around the slums, where
I sometimes go. I like to walk around there, because I have friends
there. Kids are very special to me.
Does Nairobi inspire your work as an artist?
Yes and no. Yes, in terms of the people I mess up in my work.
So I get different faces to paint. And no, I don’t really concentrate
on the social commentary of the life here. What I see and what
affects me in my work is what I paint.
Is Nairobi a special place for artists or do you think you could be an
artist anywhere else?
Africa is good for what I do here. About Europe, I don’t know.
The Europeans who come here, they always say that it is a bit
harder to be an artist there. I think it is better here.
How do the Kenyan people mind or recommend your art? What do Kenyans think about your art?
The Kenyans notice my work, mostly because I paint cultural
scenes. They recognize their tribes and the fight of cultures. Other
Kenyans like my art just because of the colours.
Can you live as a professional artist?
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Right now, I can survive with my art, so only by my art.
Interview: What does Kuona Trust mean to you?
Marketing and branding, or expressing myself. Kuona Trust
makes me ask myself questions about which part of me is an artist, how my art is, where it comes from. Kuona Trust helps me to
answer those questions, which I need to answer for myself as an
artist.
Interviewer: Is there something you want to add about your work here
in Kuona Trust or your private life? Is there something the readers
should know about you as an artist?
I am very energetic - I like the colour red. Anybody who knows
my work and knows me, knows that I have to sneak some red into
my paintings. About Kuona: If you are in Nairobi and you are looking for an art centre, you should come to Kuona; it is the place,
where all the amazing artists are.
Interviewer: And you are part of them?
Yes!
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Kuona Trust Art Centre
71
Beth Kimwele
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Interview with Beth Kimwele
Artist at Kuona Trust Art Centre
Interviewers: Philipp Günther, Isabella Schulz, Sabrina Loll
Thank you for your time. Please introduce yourself with your full
name, and tell us something about how long you have been working
as an artist.
My name is Beth Kimwele, I´m have been working as an
artist for many years. Here in Kuona Trust, I have been working for four years. Before that, I was somewhere else.
Why did you decide to work here?
The place is very nice, because we are all different artists.
So we learn from each other. Working in an art centre is quite
helpful for us artists, the environment is very good, there are visitors coming and looking at our work. I love the environment.
Here, you can find peace, even when a lot is going on. The
environment is very friendly for creative work.
Do you think the surrounding has an influence on your artwork?
Yes, it does have an influence on my work; in fact, it has a
lot of influence! Sometimes, I look at the tree, sometimes I look
at the sculptures... and that influences my pieces.
You talked about how, for example, the tree inspires you. Is there
anything else that you can draw inspiration from?
I would say from the artists who are also here. ‘Cause I
love to walk around and see what they are doing, so, they also
inspire me. Some of them are from different countries, their
styles are very different... they inspire me a lot. Sometimes, I
borrow one or two things from them. ‘Cause it can´t be 100%
of your own creations here, so I tend to borrow that from the
artists here.
What about the city of Nairobi. Does the city influence your work?
Ah, that’s funny! You know, my themes are very traditional.
Once in a while, I´ll do something about the city, but I´m more
traditional. I don´t know why. I think I need to come to the city
more often to do a few city themes. But there are more women
in my pieces. I do a lot of women things, I´m slowly living the
old traditional model.
Speaking about women: Is it a challenge to be a woman here, working here in the art centre? Because, there are not many women
here...
(laughs) I think I got used to it. When I was in college,
there were only a few women. Even when I went to work, and
also while practising my art... Is it a challenge? No... But in a
way it is. Yeah, I think when it comes to selling art, people tend
to buy more of the men’s work than the women’s work. That´s
what I´m seeing. Yes, they support men more.
Are you reflecting your position as a woman in society?
Yes. You know, the day to day activities is a kind of a traditional women’s work. And my art work, my themes, are based
on women.
Do you want to tell us something about your favourite piece?
Ok. My favourite piece is called Wanjiku. It´s about when
women in Kenya sometimes doing traditional things, like fetching water from the rivers, taking care of the children at
home, it´s quite simple but very effective. Wanjiku is a kind of
carrying a heavy load on their head. It´s something about the
traditional women, the work they do, the market, the village.
Why is it your favourite?
73
Why it´s my favourite? I think I captured that theme very
well. It tells a lot, how the face looks like, the expression of the
eyes, it´s a very powerful painting.
Like powerful women!
I don´t know... it´s hard to go out and look for people who
are buying my art... so where to go? Where to go? But in general, I have to say in the last years, something has changed.
More of society comes to buy a piece of work.
(laughs) They seem to be simple, but in their own way they
are powerful.
So you have Kenyan buyers, too.
Why did you choose to express yourself through art?
Yes! I have Kenyan buyers! I do have Kenyan buyers. The
recipients are more, of course, but more and more Africans are
coming to buy, more Kenyans coming to buy. They are appreciating it.
I don´t know. I think I found myself, I expressing myself
through art from a younger age; I always used to draw, paint,
and so on. It´s a thing that just happened. It´s just a talent
that grew.
Is it hard to subsist on your art?
It´s hard (laughs), it´s not easy... right now, I´m also teaching. I´m working as a teacher, so when I have some free
time, I´ll be here painting over the weekend. In fact, painting
fulltime: Life was too hard. I needed some money for my children, for the house... so it´s not easy. Unless you have a really
good marketer. I don´t see one here! (laughs). So it´s not easy.
Especially for a woman, it is not easy.
74
Why is it especially hard for women?
Would you say it´s a matter of education?
Yeah, it depends a lot on education who attends or appreciates art work.
What is your wish for the future, especially as an artist?
(thinks) ...Ok, what I always wanted to do... I would love to
have an own gallery. Ok, maybe not a gallery, maybe a place
like Kuona. Where there are a lot of different artists, coming
there to work. Where young, upcoming artists can come to that
space, and where the older and the younger artists inspire each
other. That´s what I would love to see!
Beth Kimwele: Wanjiku
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Thobias Minzi
Thobias Minzi was born in Tanzania in 1984.
Art is part of my daily life; I have expressed myself through
the art of painting. Creating art took me into a world of my own,
and the encouragement I received led to further training and explorations. Through several workshops, informal training, advice
from friends, and self imagination I found my stylistic way of depicting life in its various aspects. This was realized after six years,
as I discovered fabric as an actual medium for creativity.
I enjoy using fabric and thread to convey an image or a feeling. The tactile nature adds a lot to the creative art, especially in
my abstract arts.
My main themes have been African life, women and children.
Why women and children?
This is due to the great role they play in African life, and the
great challenges they go through, especially in developing countries.
I hope my art brings knowledge and inspiration to others, as
I continue along my path of a creative career.
Thobias Minzi
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gegenüberliegende Seite:
Fish saler
Digital city
Mothers care
77
Florence Wangui
78
Interview with Florence Wangui
Artist at the GoDown Arts Centre
Interviewers: Anna Lafrentz and Isabella Schulz
Could you please introduce yourself? Who are you and what are you
doing?
How do I answer that? I‘m Florence, I‘m an artist. I do many
things. My interest in art is really wide, but I do mostly charcoal
on paper. I paint with oils, acrylics. Right now, I‘m doing some
crows in iron sheets. And I‘m doing the Stations of the Cross for a
cathedral. I do many things. My interests in art are many.
How did you become an artist?
Professionally, I started last year, but I think people are born
as artists. It‘s always there. You have to get an opportunity for it to
come out. So I‘ve been doing art ever since I can remember, I don‘t
know when, but it‘s been there. I used to do cartoons and so on in
my own way. That was my influence back then when I was little. I
used to draw heroes. Plus my mom was not around ‚cause she was
a busy woman and my dad wasn‘t around either, so I spent most
of my free time in the house. So most of the time, I used to draw.
What inspires you and what‘s the story behind the chicken
theme?
I get inspired by, I call it ‚life itself‘, the way I view life. ‚Cause
specifically, I don‘t know what it is that inspires me but I sum it
up with ‘life’. The positives, the negatives. I can find inspiration in
probably a bicycle or anything, whether it‘s alive or not. I view it.
That‘s what makes me get inspired. So the chicken, I remember,
it was last year. I had just arrived here and I was looking for something to concentrate on. I don‘t know how it came, but I just
thought “Why not chickens?”. I have spent so much time with
these chickens ever since I was young. Not the same chickens of
course, they‘re not immortal. But they‘re interesting. And the way
I viewed them, for me they were more like people. But they‘re still
79
chickens, anyway. But they were interesting for me more than
people at that time. And I still find them interesting. I‘ve studied
them for a while now and so many things are coming out. It‘s like
a journey. I‘m here to discover a lot. I think you never get there.
You just keep developing from one level to the other.
Does the city of Nairobi affect you in any way?
Yeah, the energy! I like the people, I like us. The energy in and
around Nairobi. I feel alive walking in the streets or in matatus.
There‘s a side of course that you don‘t like and there are those
things you like, but without these contrasts, I don‘t think there
would be life. For me, it‘s life. There‘s air in Nairobi, and this is also
one of my inspirations, I guess.
Do you think you, as an artist, play a specific role in this city
energy?
Yeah, I believe artists are the healers of society. I don‘t know
why I say that. Before I came here, I was in a rush. I was really
vorhergehende Seite:
Florence Wangui:
Chicken
80
down. I just finished my studies and people pressure you to find
an office job, but my heart was set on art, so it was really hard to
convince everyone, but I just decided I‘ll do it. And by the time I
came here, I felt like I was at home for the first time. Of course I
had fun, drinks, and parties before. But when I came here, I was
at home for the first time. There was a certain energy about it and
I felt I was at peace, I was me. I was more me than ever. And that
came after looking at various paintings of various artists. It was
also like medicine, it kind of healed me. Not really medicine, maybe energy, I don‘t know. But I was better than I was before. The
clients that we have or anyone that comes in, there are those who
never want to leave this place or they keep coming back, ‘cause
there‘s something positive about this place. And it is through us
and through the paintings. They feel it and they see it. So for me
having experienced that, I would say artists are the healers of society. Art is healing, art is empowering, it‘s positive.
Thank you!
Florence Wangui: Seagull
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Sidney Mangongo
82
Sidney Mangongo
Artist at Kuona Trust Art Centre
What is art for you? How does the city of Nairobi influence you? What
do you think is the meaning of art in society?
Art is a way of life. Nairobi is a source of inspiration to me,
since I base my art on the premise of pop culture. I focus on collage, making use of discarded printed, used paper which I find in
Nairobi. Art drives culture in a society, so art is important for the
development of culture in society.
Sidney Mangongo:
Mystery Man
Sidney Mangongo:
Still A Revolution
83
Saviour Omondi
84
Saviour Omondi
We met Saviour at Maasai Mbili studio. He is the youngest participant of this art space.
Interviewer: Isabella Schulz and Michau Kühn
Whats your name and how old are you?
Saviour Omondi. I‘m ten.
And you do paintings?
Yes, I started long ago, in 2010.
Do your parents support your painting?
I came here when someone from Maasai Mbili told me I could
draw on paper. Then I painted a picture and he put it in the computer
and asked me “What is your name?”. I told him my name was Saviour.
Then he called me another day and took me to his studio in Kuona
Trust. I drew there, and I came here when he told me I should try
to paint. When I tried to paint I came here every day. I came here to
draw, and when the night came I went home. And then, every day I
came to paint. One day, I went to an artist gallery to earn money so I
could buy me a book about drawing. One day, we went to a party and
someone gave me money to buy paint. I went to my mother and gave
her the money. My mother then bought paint and a brush for me.
One can see a lot of people and buildings in your paintings. Do you like
to paint the houses and people of Kibera?
Yes. Then I teach somebody to draw. The people know I like
to draw. When I go there, the babies call me an artist. My brother
is an artist. He‘s in class one, a small one. I go to class three.
Outside and inside the Maasai Mbili studio
What would you like to say about Kibera?
I like Kibera, because in Kibera there is something to buy, there
is the shop, and the cars. When you need something, you can take
the car and go.
Are the people in Kibera interested in art?
Yes, but not all of them.
85
Otieno Gomba
86
Andrew Njoroge
Kevin Irungu
Interview with Maasai Mbili
Otieno Gomba, Kevin Irungu, Andrew Njoroge
Maasai Mbili (in translation “two Maasai”) is a community based
artist group that was founded in 2001 by two artists – Otieno
Gomba and Otieno Kota who initially worked as sign writers in
Kibera. With a population somewhere between 600,000 and 1.2
million people, Kibera is the largest Slum in East-Africa. In 2003,
Maasai Mbili acquired a space, a two storey structure that was
Can you introduce yourselves, please?
O.G: I´m Otieno Gomba and I come from Maasai Mbili art
studio in Kibera. I´m a visual artist, born and raised in Kibera. In
2001, we started Maasai Mbili and right now we
are six artists working together in one collective.
K.I.: I´m Kevin Irungu – that´s my birth name
– and my alias is Kevoo Steroo. I´m stupid and
foolish and perfect in that. I´m part of Maasai
Mbili. I work on a painting-paper called „The Daily Kibera“, and it´s all based on the stupidity and
foolishness of everything. I´m a just guy.
A.N.: My name is Andre Njoroge and I´m based in Kuona Trust Art Centre. I´m here on a residency. I´m a painter and do a couple of things;
I make some beats on the computer and also do
some animations.
Can you tell me something about Maasai Mbili? What
kind of place is it in general and for you personally?
O.G.: I´ve been in Maasai Mbili for the last
twelve years, since we started. I´m one of the
founders. It started, because we needed a space
for visual artists and for us to work together.
Right now, it´s like a link to the world. We meet
with many people, and artists come here. Maasai Mbili was there
to fill a gap between art and society.
K.I.: It´s an example of me. It´s what he said. I´m part of what
happened in between Maasai Mbili. But now it´s family, a commu-
originally a pub, and turned it into a studio and a gallery in Kibera.
Today, Maasai Mbili has eight active members and a handful of
promising students/aspirant members. None of the members are
Maasai. The group’s name rather gives a good image of the humoristic approach the Maasai Mbili group has to its work.
Interview: Nadine Lorenz
nity, a shrine, a church and a free area. Police don´t come here and
you can smoke. But apart from that, it´s actually an inspirational
place. It makes people like you come here. It´s very difficult to
explain, but it´s a place where you come and feel
safe. If you hear about Kibera that it is like this,
Maasai Mbili is not a part of Kibera. It is in Kibera,
but not part of what you hear about Kibera. It´s
here, you come here and you maintain, you feel
free and good. Maasai Mbili is the best place, it´s
the place that will keep peace with the paintings
and all the things. I don´t know, I can´t explain.
It´s more like a feeling?
K.I.: No, it´s more practical because it´s made
by the people, by society. We are hired to do paintings, but we don´t get paid. We do paintings
on the streets as Maasai Mbili, and later people
come and ask us to do things for them. When we
ask them for paint, they don´t have any. We can´t
do it without paint, that´s why it´s an impact on
the community.
A.N.: It´s an art centre where artists can
come and they provide a place to work. I´m here
as a resident and learn from them. We´re doing a
couple of projects. I make flutes.
Andrew Njoroge:
3 Wise Men
Crossing River
Jordan
N.L.: How does the place work in your daily life? Do you have opening
hours?
87
A.N.: Actually, I sleep here. I´m working with some paintings
and some days I work overnight. Also with the flutes, I was working till the late hours or into the night, and it´s quite safe, actually.
Does everybody have a key and can come along?
A.N.: Nobody comes, most of them live right next door.
O.G.: Maasai Mbili is like an „every day today“ life, because
it´s usually open from morning to morning. It´s a space where artists go, get together, and get inspired. It´s usually open 24hours,
seven days a week. It´s the passion
that drives the artists. You don´t have
routines. We don´t have to put rules
like “You should be here by this time”.
Only when we have deadlines, which
we usually have, then we need to. But
then you´re free to come in any time of
the day.
K.I.: I would choose my head, too. The brain is too complicated. That´s why all the parents say ‚use your head‘. I work on the
‚use your head‘-idea. I can´t paint a nice smell, but I can paint something like that. In the beginning, we did street art and now we
do street art for the gallery, for the elite community.
And how do you feel about it? Was this your goal?
K.I.: It´s very funny because the first exhibition we did, the
three of us, I was very short. They were the bosses back then,
and it was put down after two weeks. And they said, these things
were for the streets not for the gallery.
Who said that?
O.G.: If you have commission work
that involves the collective, or you have
an exhibition coming on.
K.I.: The owner of the restaurant, the management said that
this wouldn´t fit.
O.G.: We work from the community
level to the international level. For the
community, we have people coming around, and they ask us to
do their portraits or they commission us to do their signs. Because
originally, that´s how we started. We used to do sign paintings on
the streets. That´s why you find a lot of written things in our art.
If people are coming from outside, it will be art lovers, fans. We
have a small clientele who really follows what we´re doing. Our
art is not restricted to the international scene, only. It´s based on
the locals and spreads out.
What is the content of your paintings?
K.I.: The whole studio is about street art, about taking street
88
My head.
What kind of deadlines do you have?
Who are the people asking for something?
Andrew Njoroge:
Shifta
art to the gallery. We work on human, content and colour. I work
on the „Daily Kibera“, that´s a paper, even though it´s not registered. It´s what I see and what I hear. There´s something called
„tu mi a kichwa“. There´s two things, you have either to use your
brain or your head. Which one would you choose?
Has it changed by now?
K.I.: Now, it´s crazy because we don´t mind. They can´t do
anything.
What does that mean?
K.I.: The managements, they have to exhibit or say no. But it
makes sense now, like Gomba, it´s the same street art. Okay, it
actually had changed a little, but they can´t say no again.
Why?
K.I.: I don´t know, it´s a fact. It works like this. When I work
on the streets, I can´t do something like this. I have to make it
better for them to do a street art. Do you know about street art?
About doing a sign paining? There are rules! It´s no rules for the
people, it´s your rules. You have to make it beautiful; you have
to have the best colours. That´s the basics. You have to have the
character. If it´s a hospital, you can´t make someone happy in a
hospital. But the point is, they don´t tell you, not to do that, they
say you are the boss.
This is street art for you?
K.I.: Yes, this is street art. It´s spontaneous art. You walk
around with paints and everything, looking for work. You tell your
mother, when you are 17 years “I´m going to look for a job” –
“With paints? What job do you get with paints?” – “A thinking job”
– “You can carry stones here” – “I want a thinking job, I want to
paint the stones afterwards”. It´s harder than the other work. You
should ask someone else, or I just talk and talk.
What are you doing and what´s the content?
A.N.: I start with the portraits, that´s something I do a lot.
I´ve been doing portraits of the other members. So far, I´ve done
three of them. I also try to get a feeling of Kibera in the portraits.
I want to give the environment something. I´m also working on
the flutes. They actually work, you can get a tune out of them. I
try to do a collaboration with Maasai Mbili, where we make beats
by using Fruityloops, and then provide vocals and make live music
using different kinds of things.
What was your motivation to start the things you are doing now?
A.N.: Spreading a message, I guess. I have been a visual artist
for some time, but I´ve an urge to do music, to say something, to
experiment.
If there was a message for today, which one would it be?
A.N.: Although life has glitches, like my computer has one or
two glitches, just stay positive, just change it and do it!
What’s the message of your art?
O.G.: My message, it transcends from political issues, family
issues to issues within myself. But my message, basically, is that
I love humans and everything. In every condition, I turn to huma-
nity, even in the worst condition. In 2008, there was really a lot of
violence in Kenya, after the elections. And in that time, we did a
project called Art for Peace. A healing project which was initiated
by us as artists in Kibera, and it was for bringing back the harmony and peace. There was a lot of drama amongst the children and
a lot of drama with the people. That was one time I could mention
that you could use art for various reasons, to a particular time. It
came to international recognition that there are some artists in
Kibera, and they were for peace, saying no to violence. Things like
that. For one particular time, my
message would be what´s really
happening in this time. For example, if I should paint something now,
I would paint something for Mandela, then next, I would still come
back to Kibera. It´s really dynamic,
but I love humans.
Was there violence in Kibera after the
elections?
O.G.: Kibera was really bad.
There were ruins everywhere.
How did the people come together after the violence?
O.G.: When things like that happen, it´s because of politics. And
after the elections, people were
going back to work and everything
like that. Here in Kibera, the violence was rapidly through, like
three days of burning and looting. And it cost the nation two years
of loss. The people had to go back to life. Life has to continue. Because the people living here, they have been living here together
for almost 20 years. People really know each other.
Andrew Njoroge:
One Maasai Mbili
Do you think Maasai Mbili could be in another place than this one?
O.G.: Yeah, I think it could be in another place, but it fits to
Kibera. We needed to have a space in Kibera. We needed to do it
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for ourselves in Kibera.
Do you advertise for Maasai Mbili and are there foreign people coming
for painting?
O.G.: Sometimes, we really have to close the door, because the
space is too small. This place used to have two stores, but it was
squeezed. This is the foundation and we have to put another two
stores up there. It´s small, but we could also be the link. It´s not
a must to paint here. There are people painting at home and then
bringing their paintings here. It´s a link, you can guide somebody.
What does the surrounding think about the place?
O.G.: The story of this place is very sad and very happy. This
used to be a pub before Maasai Mbili came here. One dark day,
six people were lynched in this place. There were youths hanging
out in the pub, so the pub had to close down. After that, the place
wasn´t rented for about two months, and then we approached the
landlord and that´s how we first came here.
Do you pay a rent?
O.G.: We used to pay rent, and then we bought the place.
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But what do the people think about the place?
O.G.: The people are now familiar with it. When I was growing up, nobody knew about a studio. For us, a studio was a place
where you take photographs. Now, the kids know what a studio
is. When we started, people were like “These two crazy people”,
Maasai Mbili means two Maasais, “we don´t know what they are
up to”. After we were here for two months, the landlord was already like “Everybody is telling me to take you out of that space, we
don´t need them there”. But right now we have their appreciation.
Is there something else you would like to add?
A.N.: I´m just grateful to be here, given the chance to work
with them. I think I´m happy. I hope we are going to produce
some work.
O.G.: We came a long way. Coming from the street and going
to an international level. It´s all just passion driving you. For me,
it´s a great achievement to be here. And it´s not just an achievement. It´s like being there for what you feel and what you want.
Through that, I´ve crossed borders, met people and that makes
me happy every day.
Andrew Njoroge - Sterro
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Nadine Lorenz
Central Business
District - view from
Globe Cinema
Roundabout
92
Gedanken über Reisebilder
Thoughts about pictures
Menschen nehmen Städte unterschiedlich wahr. Während
auf mich Großstädte eher Faszination ausüben, bewirken sie bei
anderen Personen Unsicherheit und Überforderung. Die Erfahrungen, die man in einer neuen Umgebung macht sind dazu oft
vorstrukturiert durch persönliche
Einstellungen und Erwartungen,
sogenannte Vorannahmen über
das Reiseland. Oft halten wir diese
Erwartungen dann gezielt in Form
von Fotos fest und manifestieren
sie folglich als die vorgefundene
‚Realität‘. Dies geschieht meist
unbewusst. Nicht ausgeschlossen
ist jedoch, dass wir bei späteren
Betrachter*innen der Bilder genau
dieselben Vorannahmen reproduzieren und ein Kreislauf entsteht.
Wenn es um Länder in Afrika
geht, sind diese Vorannahmen oft
defizitär und postkolonial geprägt. Mache ich eine Aufnahme in
einem afrikanischen Land, kann es passieren, dass ich bewusst
oder unbewusst Bildinhalte suche, die meiner Vorannahme entsprechen und folglich ein stereotypes Bild von ‚Afrika‘ zeichnen und
reproduzieren. Die Fotos zeigen beispielsweise eher Armut, während Szenen der Urbanität ausgespart werden. Unvermutete Dinge
werden oft erst sichtbar, wenn wir unsere Aufmerksamkeit gezielt auf sie richten und nicht auf die Bestätigung stereotyper Vorannahmen verschwenden.
Die Aufnahmen sind zwar Privatsache, die besichtigten Orte
und Menschen widerspiegeln, aber sie können darüber hinaus
bei den späteren Betrachter*innen Annahmen über die ‚Reali-
People think about cities in different ways. They are rather
fascinating to me, whereas other people feel uneasy about them
and are not able to cope with large cities. The experiences we
gain in unfamiliar surroundings are often affected by individual
expectations and personal attitudes – so called preconceptions
– about the country to visit. By taking pictures we often try to
safe those expectations and consider them as existing realities.
Most of the time, this happens unintentionally. Yet we cannot
exclude either that those people watching the pictures later on
reproduce exactly the same preconceptions, thus creating a cycle.
When we talk about countries in Africa, the aforementioned preconceptions are often associated with terms like post-colonial and
deficient. If I take a picture in an African country, it may happen
that I choose a subject (wittingly or unwittingly) which corresponds
to my preconceptions, and then a stereotypical image of Africa
will be created and reproduced. Most of the pictures show poverty, for example, whereas urban sceneries were left out. Usually,
unexpected things first become visible when we concentrate on
them and do not focus on confirming stereotypical preconceptions.
The pictures are of private matter, reflecting visited places and
people, but they might still cause assumptions about the ‘real
life’ from a distance. It is therefore quite necessary to reflect on
the pictures we took and consider what we photographed for
which reason and in which way. This reflection is also useful in
order to question personal views and value judgements. Which
situations did I want to record? What did I intend to show with
them? How come I did not take pictures in other situations?
An approach to personal preconceptions and value judgements
becomes possible here and might also propose a discussion.
It was hard for me to give up on expectations and attitudes when
I arrived in Nairobi. The knowledge about the challenges descri-
tät‘ in der Ferne evozieren. Eine Reflexion über den Inhalt der
eigenen Fotografien, also was, warum, wie fotografiert wurde,
ist daher durchaus relevant. Diese lohnt sich weiterhin, um persönliche Sichtweisen und Werturteile aufspüren und hinterfragen
zu können. Welche Situationen waren mir wichtig festzuhalten?
Was wollte ich damit aufzeigen? Warum habe ich in anderen Momenten nicht fotografiert? Hier ist eine Annäherung an eigene
Vorannahmen und Wertvorstellungen möglich und eine Auseinandersetzung kann angeregt werden.
Auch ich konnte meine Erwartungen und Einstellungen bei
der Ankunft in Nairobi nicht einfach ablegen. Das Wissen um die
oben beschriebenen Herausforderungen wirkte daher mitunter geradezu lähmend. Oft fragte ich mich, was fotografiere ich jetzt
warum und wie stufen spätere Betrachter*innen diese Bilder ein?
Weder sollten stereotype Vorurteile durch meine Fotos fortgeschrieben werden, noch sollten sie eine ‚Realität‘ konstruieren, die
Kategorien wie ‚Armut‘ und ‚soziale Ungerechtigkeit‘ gezielt ausblendet und durch Szenen der Urbanität ersetzt. Hätte ich meinen
Fokus allein auf Nairobi als junge kreative Stadt im Aufschwung
gerichtet um in Deutschland gezielt stereotype, durch Rückständigkeit geprägte Bilder zu ersetzen, wäre das klar eine Verschleierung vorherrschender Tatsachen gewesen. Denn natürlich gibt
es in Nairobi neben einer aufstrebenden Mittelklasse, dem Central
Business District und schicken Cafés auch weit verbreitet bittere
Armut. Die Frage welche Bilder ich später meinen Freunden und
der Familie präsentieren würde stellte ich mir folglich auch vor
dem Hintergrund, welche Annahmen sie in deren Köpfen konstruieren würden. Besonders mit dem Wissen einen Ort zu illustrieren,
der fernab der täglichen Lebenswelt vieler Menschen in Deutschland liegt. Viele würden folglich ‚durch meine Augen‘ einen ersten
Eindruck von Nairobi bekommen und meine Beschreibungen würden ihr Bild von der Stadt vorformulieren.
Jede Repräsentation von Erfahrungen und Begegnungen in
einem globalen Kontext birgt gewisse Fallstricke. Bewusst oder
unbewusst werden bei den späteren Rezipient*innen der Bilder
Annahmen über die vermeintliche Lebensrealität in der Ferne anhand der gewählten Darstellung konstruiert. Sicherlich werden
diese Prozesse immer angestoßen, wenn man Orte und Länder
bed above seemed to be almost paralysing. I often asked myself:
What do I photograph now for which reason and how do people
rate those pictures later on?
I did neither intend to continue stereotypical prejudices with
my pictures, nor create some kind of ‘reality’ that avoided categories like ‘poverty’ and ‘social injustice’, and substitutes them by
urban sceneries. If I focused on Nairobi merely as a young and creative city in order to replace backward stereotypes in Germany, it
would certainly conceal the actual situation. Besides an emerging
middle class, Central Business District, and fancy cafés on the one
hand, there is of course abject poverty that continues to be prevalent in Nairobi. Wondering which pictures I would present to my
family and friends, I was also concerned about what they would
think about them – especially knowing that the illustrated place
is far away from everyday life of most people in Germany. Consequently, most of them would get a first impression of Nairobi
‚through my eyes‘ and my descriptions would pre-formulate their
impression of the city.
Each representation of experiences and encounters in
a global context carries a certain risk. Concepts of pretended reality of life abroad are created by means of the specific representation and influence the viewers – wittingly or
unwittingly. These processes are usually initiated when talking about places and countries other people did not visit before. It is quite rarely though that they are as relevant as this.
What is special for many countries in Africa is the fact that
they are usually beyond our perception, and along with it, there is poor and undifferentiated reporting. In the media, negative aspects like civil wars, catastrophic famines, and diseases are
often overemphasised. Instead of providing recipients a comprehensive approach to different issues, they are often faced
with generalised and stereotypical messages. Wittingly or not,
medial presentations shape our preconceptions about those
countries, but at the same time they leave huge gaps behind.
I do not think individual travel reports might fill those gaps, but
this is why I think it is worth to reflect on what we represent how
and why in such a context.
93
beschreibt, die andere Menschen noch nicht besucht haben. Nicht
immer sind sie jedoch derart relevant.
Die Besonderheit für viele Länder in Afrika ist, dass diese
meist jenseits unserer Wahrnehmung liegen und dazu die Berichterstattung mangelhaft und undifferenziert ist. Auch in den Medien
werden oft negative Aspekte wie Bürgerkriege, Hungerkatastrophen und Krankheiten überbetont. Statt den Rezipient*innen einen multiperspektivischen Zugang zu verschiedenen Themen zu
ermöglichen, werden überwiegend verallgemeinernde und stereotype Botschaften in Umlauf gebracht. Die medialen Darstellungen
prägen, bewusst oder unbewusst, unsere Vorannahmen über die
entsprechenden Länder, hinterlassen dabei aber flächendeckend
riesige Leerstellen.
Nicht, dass individuelle Reiseberichte diese Lücke füllen
könnten, aber es lohnt in meinen Augen genau deshalb darüber
nachzudenken, was wir wie und warum in einem solchen Kontext
repräsentieren.
“Nairobi is a great city. It‘s one of those
few cities in the world where it can be
raining and there‘s sun at the same time.”
(Khoisan Hassan, 2013)
Mathare North Road
94
Cross Road,
Nairobi Central
95
Erlebnisse
Beschreibung und Erfahrung der Reise
Grenzgang
Mit seinen Erwartungen gegenüber Menschen und Orten zu
brechen ist ein Grenzgang. Man tritt für Momente zwischen sich
selbst und das Gegenüber, in der Bereitschaft sich auf alles und
nichts einzulassen. Diese Bereitschaft ist wie ein hauchdünner Faden, bis zum Ende und zum Reißen gespannt.
Erwartung
Ich verstehe alles, was ich kenne und wiedererkenne. Was ich
wiedererkenne ist oftmals mehr, als ich erwartet habe.
Umkehrung
Die Umkehrung von Gegensätzen zu erleben, bedeutet Gegensätze zu verstehen.
Stefanie Habben
96
97
Dennis Muraguri
98
Interview with Dennis Muraguri
Artist at Kuona Trust Art Centre
Interviewers: Nadine Lorenz and Michau Kühn
Could you please introduce yourself.
My name is Dennis Muraguri. I‘m an artist.
When was the first time you came in contact with art?
There were different times. Like I found out I liked art. ‚Cause
my uncle drew matatus and I liked it, and I started telling him to
draw a matatu for me. And then one day, he got fed up and he did
not draw one for me, and so tried drawing one for myself and the
rest is history. He is not an artist, it was just a long time when I
was a kid. I was a little boy when he drew the matatu. He was a
bit older than me, because he was in school already. Young people
for some reason like to draw. That‘s the first thought I can say I
have about art. But then how did I become what is called an artist? I just knew I can do art and it was easy for me and it sort of
felt like I was cheating. Nobody pushed me to do it. I just did it. I
chose it. I didn‘t feel like I was working. Then I went to college in
Nairobi to do the same and then I came out and just started “being
an artist”. I‘ve never done anything else in my life.
You studied art in college?
I studied art in college, but in our college it‘s like I came out of
college not knowing a single Kenyan artist. It‘s not taught. I don‘t
know if they teach it now but it was not.
But what did they teach?
A lot of Van Gogh’s and Michael Angelo’s.
Like lessons in history.
Yeah, if that’s history. But I don‘t regret going to college. So
I came out of college and started practicing and I‘ve never done
anything else. Until now.
I have seen some parts of your art are in the public space. Why have you
chosen the public space as your arena?
Because sometimes I feel like I want as many people to be willing to change their view - not even to change, but to just give something to people who would not necessarily go to a gallery. They
don‘t even have to know that it‘s art or whatever. Just something
they see. Maybe they like it or they don‘t, or they don‘t notice it
at all. But I like doing it. I think I like the rush of doing something
in public. And I like discovering new public spaces. Sometimes,
I and many other people
complained that in Kenya
we don‘t have many public art spaces. But now I
notice, instead of complaining, I can just find the
ones that people can‘t.
The ones that have not
been taken yet. So, like
the matatus. I did stickers
about the elections and I
put them in matatus. And
maybe people get it, maybe they don‘t. I just put
them in matatus because
I know matatus. You can
put a sticker in there and
maybe they take it out
later, but nobody follows
you and tells you, you
know, “Take it out”. Yeah,
I think the government
99
has not discovered the matatu space so I can still use it.
Why is it actually the matatu you draw so often? Is this maybe because
of your uncle, or does it have another meaning for you?
Dennis: I like matatus.
We do, too.
Yeah. Especially those really pimped ones. The ones that
are very decorative. We call
them manyanga. You see on
that sticker manyanga music,
mischief and mayhem. That‘s
what they are about. They are
about music, mischief and mayhem. So first, I liked the matatu.
There‘s a lot of people that say
Kenyans don‘t like art. That‘s
why they don‘t buy art or something like that. But I discovered
they do like art because we pay
more money to get on a matatu that is more fancy than the
rest. And those matatus have
all this art on them and people
like them. I will stop to look at
a beautiful matatu. So people
do like art. It‘s just that we are
presenting our art in a way that is falling to the people. People are
easier to be integrated with the art. Not the art being in a gallery.
That‘s like the culture we come from. I don‘t hate the gallery. I
would like the gallery and culture to grow in Kenya. The matatu
also is reflective of the people themselves. And if you want to learn
a lot about the Kenyan people, just follow a matatu or go around
in matatus and you‘ll see o lot. Within the matatu and outside the
matatu. And then the matatu itself is like a living thing. It‘s just a
van, but once it becomes a matatu it gets a life of its own. Every
day, it‘s in the news. It would be: “Matatu this, matatu that”. And
100
it‘s not something you can escape in Kenya. Once you come to Kenya, the first thing you notice is a matatu. Yeah, there‘s a lot I can
say about the matatu. Like, I can keep talking about the matatu.
Please, keep on talking.
And then there‘s a lot of, like, performances around the matatus. For me, that‘s the real performance art of Kenya. Street performance. Like, those makangas do
crazy stunts on the matatu and
I think it‘s something that you‘ll
find only in Kenya. I think, it‘s
hard for people to notice things.
So I‘m trying to pick on those
small stickers on the matatu.
So what else would you say is the
content of your art?
Content? Mostly, I don‘t sit
and think: “Ah, let me communicate to these people”. I just
think of an idea, I like it, I do it.
Sometimes it communicates something, sometimes it doesn‘t.
Like sometimes, a matatu is just
a matatu. Sometimes, I‘m using
it to communicate something.
I‘m also sort of lazy, so I‘m not
a good campaigner for things. I
would like to find a way to change, to take some things of the matatu and place them somewhere else. Like that dance that people
perform on the matatu. So with the new laws and everything, the
matatus will fade away and disappear. I‘d like to find a way present them in a more positive way. Don‘t know if I‘ll be able to do
that. It‘s just a dream, it‘s just one of those wishes. Yeah, and I‘m
also using the matatu because it‘s something familiar to people.
It‘s not something I have to explain to a lot to people, to use it
to do other things. Like the public art I‘m working on. Something
like that. If it works, it will be something for other people to think
about. Sometimes, art is just to help other people to think. And
yeah, maybe just to know that things are possible. Yeah, I think
that‘s it.
Dennis, what kind of feedback do you get on your art?
People like to buy my matatu art. The one thing I know is
the stickers I put up. People put up stickers in the matatu to sell
things. And I find that some matatus remove them all. But I find
my stickers intact.
Would you consider that a compliment?
That‘s a compliment. There‘s one matatu, there was a competition some weeks ago, a manyanga competition, for the best
pimped matatu.
You have a contest for that?
There is a competition for that. But it‘s very new and because
there are a lot of rules for a matatu, I don‘t know how the rules
work, but it‘s sort of illegal to soup up the matatus. But there
were some really nice ones there, and the one that won a category is a matatu that had been repainted to another colour from the
one I knew it to be. And it still has my sticker on it. So, that was
a really big compliment.
Do the matatu drivers and owners know your art?
Some do, some don‘t. But, like the stickers I do for the public,
they don‘t know it‘s me who does them. I make sure they don‘t see
me putting up the stickers and all that. Because they are also very
loud, so they get in the way sometimes and when I take pictures
they‘ll start posing and I don‘t want that.
Where do you see the art in the public space in Nairobi in the future?
Will there be more art the public space?
I think so. Yeah, there will be. ‚Cause, I think that‘s just the
way things end up being. There will be art in the public space
because artist will do it. It may take some time, but there will be.
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Because today, not all artists are in the public space. Only a minimum of
the artist work in this area... It‘s a special kind of artists.
What do you mean by ‘special kind’?
The usual visual arts go to galleries or the like. But graffiti writers or
what you do with your posters and stickers, and I don‘t know what else
you do, it‘s like reclaiming public space. Just taking public space and
giving it back changed – without asking for permission.
Ah, ok, like some public space is not really owned by anybody. It‘s when people find some use for it that somebody comes
and grabs it and calls it their own and want to make money of it.
Like, I know the matatus like they used to be beautiful on the outside. Right now, I hear people thinking about using them for advertising. So, you see, it was a public space that people just made
their matatu beautiful to just please the public or themselves. But
now, somebody else sees that that has worked so well and now
they want to take that over and just mess it up with their moneymaking bullshit.
Actually, I‘ve one last question about how you do your kind of art. I
mean, we talked about the matatus, but you do so many more different
things.
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I do other art. Like, I‘m doing this world map here from the
inside. Or I take pictures and paint them. And I do woodcut prints.
A matatu for me right now is good, because the subject does
not change, but the content changes. So I can do a matatu, but
every time the matatu tells a different story. So I like that about
the matatu. And I’m not bound by technique or style, I can do a
matatu in every style and technique in the world if I wanted to,
and I want to.
When you say the story changes, what was the story in the past and
what‘s the story now?
Sometimes, the van changes. Even the type of car changes.
The kind of graffiti changes, the kind of art. There were a lot of
labels on the matatus some time back. But nowadays, you find
they’re more simplistic. Yeah, like, they also reflect on the international fashion trend. Yeah, so, it‘s just something that has a lot of
layers on it.
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Uhuru Brown
104
Interview with Uhuru Brown
He is a graffiti artist and a member of Spray Uzi. We met him at his workspace at Kuona Trust.
Interviewers: Nadine Lorenz and Michau Kühn
Uhuru, tell us what graffiti is like in Nairobi?
How do you get the walls? You just take them?
When we were starting graffiti here it was quite on the streets.
But we discovered that this was actually an avenue nowhere. Upcoming artists can actually get something, like they can work and
can do graffiti pieces and get commissioned. So our approach was
that we have the street and can also do business on the other
hand. Because it was a new thing. And about ten years ago, many
people where like ‚Wow, this is so cool!‘. But if we trace it back,
we have the graffiti on the matatus, the minibuses, which have
been there since the nineties.
No, we talk to the owner of the wall. Sometimes they want
us to pay for the painting and sometimes they think we want
money from them. And we are like ‚No, we just want to paint!‘.
And there‘s this one neighbourhood we‘ve painted quit a lot. It‘s
called Jericho. It‘s in the Eastlands area. And there‘s quite a good
number of graffiti pieces from different artists. So, you just meet
people and then they are like ‚Oh, can you do this?‘ or you feel like
and you just do it. For me, I haven‘t been very active on the streets
because I‘ve been more into giving workshops and trying to bring
up more people into the industry, into graffiti. Like training, workshops, showing people that you can actually get paid well with
commissions. For me it‘s not really about the money thing but it‘s
about to give people a bigger idea, a bigger approach about that
this is an art form and that if you throw it on canvas something can
come out of it. Like if somebody wants a painting in a restaurant.
But I know that it‘s sort of not the way graffiti has always
been. Because if you look at Europe, there‘s the
train bombings and you have this random throwups in the streets. And if you go to New York it‘s
the same thing. We‘re a very small community
and well known by the government. Even the
other day I was asked to design a shirt
for our State House. The State House
was familiar with my graffiti. So if you
are going to do something stupid, it‘s
very easy to be tracked down. And
when we were doing the political
graffiti last year, we sort of outsmarted them. But we did it in a way all
The art on the matatus was inspired by graffiti?
Yes. What happened was, that some were original art and
others were sticker arts and borrowed graffiti pieces from different other arts around the world, mostly Hip Hop influenced. So
there was the matatu trend and when we came, there were the
walls. We had to put stuff on the walls. So we discovered that
instead of getting into trouble, because here it‘s kind of risky,
if you run, you get shot, you know? There‘s that kind of stigma.
And also if you get caught, who knows, you might be locked
up definitely or you might have to pay a fine. So what we do is,
we sort of came up with a clever way on how to find our way
within graffiti. So in case we want to do a street downtown, a
street graffiti, we just carry some change. Just in case we come
across a police officer we have sort of a bribe. It sounds a lot
like cliché but that‘s the only way you can get out. But it‘s a
very rare situation. That‘s just emergency. We decided to go
into the neighbourhoods, the public neighbourhoods, the government building neighbourhoods. We just approach and we
get wall pieces and just paint our graffiti.
105
Shujaa‘ means
‚warrior‘ and Uhuru
B painted this picture
during our stay in
Nairobi.It‘s a homage
to the celebrations of
50th years of Kenyan
Independence.
within the law. Only what would have happened was a fine we
would receive. But thank god nothing happened. But just because
I‘m one of the pioneers who has pushed graffiti to the major scene.
You have to balance things out. I have also to eat, you know. think
there‘s nothing wrong with getting paid for graffiti. I look at it as if
graffiti is a new
renaissance.
It‘s a new wave
of art. It‘s how
you‘re going to
do it, if you‘re
going to splat a
paint, if you‘re
going to use
a can, it‘s however you feel.
But obviously
there‘s a high
demand of visual graffiti in
the streets. But
there‘s this laid
back feel that if
I go and graffiti this thing, what will happen? So I do stencils.
Now I do more of that and sort of tags and small throw ups here
and there. But for doing a master piece you need a good time. The
biggest fear is, either you get caught or you get robbed. So you
don‘t know which one.
Do you go on the streets at night?
Yeah, we do. Fortunately for Bankslave, he‘s been able to paint
at least two pieces close to the Central Business District. He has
managed to name it. For me, it has been tricky. I‘m more Rasta,
you know? So I‘m always trying to keep it save. I like working with
projects. For me it‘s more an educational element and I have an advertising background. Graffiti falls into so many categories of art and
design. You can use this whole resource and approach win-win clients. For me it‘s part of business but it‘s still part of the streets. And
106
at the end of the day we‘ll always reach out to the streets, you know.
You said, it‘s a really small scene and you know each other. How
would you describe the relationship between the artists? Do you
do projects together?
We‘ve done couple of projects together. Recently we did a
project at the United Nations. We did sort of a demonstration
graffiti of a child painting. When we finished, the UN guys liked
our job and asked us to do something else. And so we ended up
doing another piece. But then we were given the freedom just
to do whatever we felt like. I have been painting with Swift and
Bankslave for the past ten years now. We have that very close
relationship. So when I‘m painting with Swift and he‘s like ‚You
need a highlight here‘, I say ‚You know what, you said it, do it!‘
So we‘re very comfortable: Swift, Bankslave, me and another guy
called Smoki aka Hemp. We are sort of the main guys in graffiti.
Then you have Slickweasol, 3wg ( Third World Graffiti), 3000 bc,
Shan and others. Now I‘ve decided to single myself out and push
my stuff. Because I need to express myself, too. So whenever
there are major projects, we come together. We‘re very confident
in our execution and decide together how much we‘re asking for,
like a couple of thousand shillings. On the streets, we still have
our reputation. Because people still know what we do. I used to
do a lot of pro-revolutionary graffiti.
What do you mean with pro-revolutionary graffiti? Revolution for
a political change?
More of conscious awareness, controversial stuff. Or
you‘d have a sort of mixed communism, afro communism art
which has a lot of motives. And then also the style. Often
people are not creating their style. I created my style which
is Afro urban. It has got a lot of African elements: the prints,
the instruments and the wood carving sort of technique. I‘m
always thinking ‚Wow Brooklyn, wow Europe, that‘s nice!‘,
but that‘s their style. How can we get an identification? And
for me that was also one of my major challenges. And I‘ve
always loved painting masks. So whenever I get the chance
to do graffiti, I always try and paint.
Are there any female artists in graffiti here?
Is somebody doing trains?
No, not really. My Ex. Now she‘s a mother and she‘s done
with design. But I‘m actually campaigning trying to encourage
girls for next year. I want to have a couple of girl students because
obviously we need that gender balance. My friend Swift did that
too. He‘s got sort of an apprenticeship. She‘s a university student
and she‘s doing good and she‘s also breakdancing. But the confidence is not there yet. We used to have another girl. I don‘t know
what happened to her. She was called Posh.
No, but we have painted a peace train, we were given. That‘s
now the cliché part of things. It‘s like in Europe guys are painting and it‘s illegal. Here you‘ve been given a train. We are just
trying to get as much recognition as possible that this is a positive thing. That this is something bigger than just vandalism. But
runnings with the police - no, not as such. When I go with my
bike sometimes, for the stencils, I just spray somewhere and write
something and then just go away. But I always wanted to do a
masterpiece somewhere in the city. But it‘s kind of tricky because
you have to go there with a Boom, you need to have a crowd and
look outs. So it‘s kind of tricky. That‘s my
personal view. But I would really love to
nail the streets at some point. You can
use the city council jackets. It‘s not hiding but using reverse psychology. Put
police lines and those kind of stuff. Then
people think there‘s a project going on.
How did you get to love graffiti? When did it start and was there a special occasion that brought graffiti to you?
When I was in high school,
about 2000/2001. There was
a friend of mine who used to
bring different magazines. I
came across the Source magazine. It‘s an American Hip
Hop music magazine. They
were very active during the
early nineties within the period of 2pac and B.I.G.. Back in
the days The Source magazine
used to have like the main graffitis.
I want to get back to streets because in my opinion streets are very important in graffiti. Is there any
experience with police or is it just the fear of police?
Not as such. I have no experience with the police. I always try
to avoid coming into trouble. Not that I‘m cowered or anything. I
just think there‘s no need to put that energy there. But there are
some gaps at night where you can go. The problem is that I live
very far, to get into the city and then going back home, has to be
properly structured. I was actually thinking of doing something tonight. A surprise graffiti for celebrating the country tomorrow. But
it‘s very hard. Only when we were doing the political stuff that‘s
when the police started getting involved.
In Germany the own name is a very important element in graffiti. Most pieces are
mainly the own letters. As far as I‘ve seen
graffiti in Nairobi, message has always been
central to a piece. Why is that so?
In our society we have people who
are very narrow minded. Until you explain graffiti to them they think it‘s satanic, not of this world or a
crime. So you have to sit down with them and explain what you
are doing. When I‘m doing masks many people ask me if this is
witchcraft what I‘m doing. And I say no, this is our culture. This
is African culture. So if it‘s witchcraft or not, it‘s still culture. But
what happened is, that everybody became so Christian and Jesus
and if you do something like that, that‘s satanic. If you don‘t do something glorifying, it‘s bad. You have to go back to their level and
say them, that you‘re sending a message. Because sometimes I
even have a church calling in, asking for a graffiti for an event and
I‘m okay with it. If they have the opportunity and they can execute, it‘s business at the other day. But for me, sometimes my fin-
Spray Uzi:
Afrikah
UN Environmental
Program Headquarters in Nairobi
107
gers burn and I want to do graffiti. But I always try and make sure
I get my crew involved like Swift and Bankslave. Because I know
when we are together, it‘s even a bigger force. I‘m coming with
my new style. It‘s called Afro-inked. If a place is inked, it‘s „I was
here“, „I inked you“. Ink is now my identity. Because when I use
Uhuru - our president is also called Uhuru. He wasn‘t that popular
but now he is popular. If I start doing a lot of Uhuru graffiti, then
you have those guys of people who think you are pro-president.
Isn‘t it also the word for freedom?
Yeah. It‘s freedom. Like for me Uhuru is broken down. It‘s
like ‚Upendo, Halisi, Undugu, Riziki, Utu.‘ which means - ‚The importance of love and the brotherhood of our well-being‘. If we
work together, that is freedom to me. How we keep ourselves together as a community. Have you ever heard of Ubuntu? Ubuntu
is almost the same kind of talk.
Do you do any projects with kids or youth?
Right now there‘s a program I‘m setting up. We‘re going to
have kids from the slum and international students. And we are
going to mix them up. Last year I was involved in a program with
Somali children. It was asked what Somali is about. For them who
are so confined mentally. It was six weekends and we had drama,
poetry, graffiti, fine art, painting and we categorized it into self
portraits. Self-portraits of abstracts, of fine arts and we had portraits of stencils. They threw up names and tags and all that stuff.
And by the fifth week, the hearts of the kids were just shining. It
was really cool. And when we had the presentation, it got a bit of
emotional, because even the parents weren‘t sure how it would
be. or me personally it was like „wow“. And the portfolio, when
you sent it to the guys like the UN, such things matter to them.
And sometimes you get sponsored for some projects.
Where else than in Nairobi have you done graffiti?
I‘ve been to a slum in Mombasa. Which is kind of interesting
because it‘s a very small community. And instead of painting forms,
I decided to do more of a mirror. I painted a mother and a child
and wrote a small message. We should respect the mother and
108
the child because that‘s the future. In that area you hear stories of
battery and stuff like that and I was looking for a way to conquer. I
sent a message across. In Malindi we did an anti-drug graffiti. And
after we finished it, we went to the pier, where the people go to
the view point and stuff. So we went under the bridge and wrote
our names and did portraits. Because we‘d already talked to the
city council, we took the advantage. Sometimes we want to go all
out. For me, being in graffiti in Kenya, it‘s just a positive avenue.
Because it pays my bills and on the other hand it‘s expressing me
and keeps me out of crime. If I wouldn‘t do graffiti, I don‘t know
what else I would be doing. I would probably be a bored graphic
designer seated on a desk or a vandal or something. So it‘s kind of
therapeutic. Knowing that you can do graffiti and you can achieve
certain goals. I‘ve also been invited once for Sweden to paint art
on the streets. I only went there for three days. Bankslave has
been in the Netherlands and Germany. He was in Germany I think
earlier this year. And then Swift has been to the Netherlands and
Sweden. We went to Sweden together. I painted also in Tanzania.
My main aim is Africa. I mean I really want to try and get Africa
together. We have painters also in Tanzania. We are most related
with them and we‘re always trying to get something done. We
want to have an East African Tour which is a problem. Organizing
things is kind of hard. Everybody wants to see money. And then
the other thing is, unless you involve a bigger international body
or you get an NGO or something to sponsor you, then something
can happen. Other than that, personally I can‘t do it myself. I wish
I could, I wish I had the resources but it‘s hard. It‘s really hard.
But South Africa is ahead of us with graffiti. They have big graffiti
artists. So I‘m mainly focused on Uganda and Tanzania.
And what is special to graffiti in Nairobi??
Nairobi is more aggressive. For us, we‘re more aggressive in a
sense of skills, execution and also content. Like what we‘re doing.
It‘s a mix and match. Uganda you have probably some events you
might find graffiti involved. In Tanzania you have a ... Crew. Which
is like in Swahili „to paint on a wall“. And these guys are doing
similar stuff like the way we do. Workshops and commission jobs
and also street art. It‘s not as much street art in the city, too. I went
cycling around Daressalam and it were just a couple of throw ups,
tags and stuff. Also in Europe, you have to know your style. You
have to know your master, your font. It‘s so militarized. You see
this guys with their backpacks, cutting the fence, going through,
sneaking, checking out. Here we‘re kind of laid back. Probably we
might need that military kind of approach, too. Let‘s go bomb, let‘s
go do masterpieces because we also wanted to bring the spray
can producer Montana down. What Montana told us challenged
us because they said if we want to have paint, we need to have a
thousand graffiti pieces. That‘s a massive challenge and we need
to do that. We‘re working on it. We‘re still on the hundreds but we
need to get that because if there‘s an opening for quality paint,
that means we have to invite the guys from outside, we can have
sponsored events. Someone like Tona, a friend of us from Germany, he doesn‘t mind painting with our cans, but other people
they‘re like ‚You guys, like third world.“ It‘s fun, we‘re comfortable
with that. We relate. We don‘t get hard feelings because we know
we‘ve been in Europe. We‘ve seen how it works, we know how
paint is purchased, we‘ve seen like people even hide their sketchbooks. For us here it‘s chilled. If a police officer grabs you, you say
‚this is what I‘m doing man. I‘m not a criminal‘. He‘ll be like okay
and you just go and he‘s confused. It‘s different. For me, I want to
do a kind of controversial style art and still revolutionary.
What kind of feedback do you get from the community.
Everybody wants us to come back.
Spray Uzi:
Peace Train
Photo:
Joel Bergner
During the election
campaign in 2012,
artists were asked
to paint a whole
train.
FLTR: Wangari
Maathai, she was
a Kenyan environmental and political
activist, and the
first African woman
to receive the
Nobel Peace Prize
for „her contribution to sustainable
development,
democracy and
peace“; masks as
letters: Uhuru, as
an acronym for:
‚Upendo, Halisi,
Undugu, Riziki,
Utu.‘ - ‚The importance of love and
the brotherhood
of our well-being‘;
Kenya; Obama.
109
Michau Kühn
Spray Uzi Crew,
FLTR: Swift9, Bankslave, Uhuru B, Smoki
Die Sprühdose als Megaphon
The Spray Can as Megaphone
Als wohlwollender Beobachter der Berliner Graffitibewegung
musste ich mich an Nairobi erst gewöhnen. Sowohl die Art der
Bilder, ihre Quantität wie Qualität, als auch die Vorstellungen der
Künstler von Graffiti irritierten mich. Im Grunde habe ich den „nairobianischen Zugang“¹ zu dieser Kunstform erst nach der Reise
halbwegs verstanden.
Die Szene² ist ungefähr seit dem Jahr 2000 aktiv und – obwohl in ihrer Größe überschaubar – professionell aufgestellt. Doch
sie kämpft mit einer großen Herausforderung, die in ihren unterschiedlichen Konsequenzen nicht zu unterschätzen ist: Während in
europäischen Metropolen professionelle Sprühdosenhersteller die Sprüher als ihre Hauptabnehmer sehen
und ihre Produkte entlang deren Bedürfnissen entwickeln, beklagen die kenianischen Sprüher die minderwertige Qualität „ihrer“ Sprühdosen, da sie schlecht
decken und nur wenig Druck haben. So brauchen
Bilder für ihre Entstehung deutlich mehr Zeit, was
z.B. nächtliche Streifzüge komplizierter gestaltet.
Hier ist einiges an Improvisation gefragt, wie z.B. mit
Wandfarbe nachzuhelfen oder die Sprühköpfe zu manipulieren. Es fehlt auch der einfache Zugang zu Sprühdosen. Der
Künstler Swift9 berichtet von einer Veranstaltung, in der Dosen kostenlos verteilt wurden und im Nachgang überall in der Stadt Tags
Being a sympathetic observer of the Berlin Graffiti movement,
it took me some time to get used to Nairobi. I was vexed not only
by the type of images, their quantity and quality, but also by the
artists’ understanding of graffiti. In a sense, it was only after our
trip that I halfway understood the ‘Nairobian approach’1 to this art
form.
The scene2 has been active since around the year 2000 and
– though its size is limited – it is professionally organised. But
it faces a great challenge with consequences not to be ignored:
whereas in European metropolises professional spray can manufacturers see graffiti artists as their main clients and develop their
products according to their needs, Kenyan writers complain about
the inferior quality of ‘their’ cans, since they do not cover well and
lack pressure. So the pieces take significantly longer to create,
complicating their nocturnal expeditions. Quite an amount of improvisation is demanded here. Thus, they resort to wall paint or
manipulate the caps. It is also hard to access spray cans. Artist
Swift9 recalls an event where cans were distributed for free and
then tags were found everywhere in the city thereafter. The moment the cans were spent, the activity dwindled. Whereas in Western metropolises generations of writers stole their cans, theft is
not an option in Nairobi. There are security guards posted in every
doorway, checking customers for weapons, no matter if it’s at an
ice cream parlour or a supermarket. They are ubiquitous. Access
1 Dieser Essay basiert auf meinen Beobachtungen und Recherchen, aber vor allem
auch auf Gesprächen, die wir mit den Künstlern Bankslave, Dennis Muraguri
(Street Art), Swift9 und Uhuru B geführt haben. Es handelt sich um ein subjektives
Momenterlebnis und erhebt nicht den Anspruch einer objektiven Darstellung.
2 Wenn ich hier auch von „Bewegung“ und „Szene“ spreche, so setzt sich diese
mehr oder weniger lose Gruppe aus sehr unterschiedlichen Einzelpersonen mit
ebenso unterschiedlichen Schwerpunkten und Ansichten zusammen. Die Zusammenfassung der Künstler als Gruppe ist hier nur ein Versuch Übereinstimmungen,
die nie absolut deckungsgleich sein können, zu beschreiben.
110
1 This essay is based on my observations and research, but mostly on conversations we had with the artists Bankslave, Dennis Muraguri (Street Art), Swift9
and Uhuru B. It stems from a subjective experience and does not claim to be an
objective description.
2 Even though I refer to a ‘movement’ or ‘scene’, graffiti practitioners are comprised
of more or less loose groups of very different individuals with diverging focuses
and views. Representing these artists as a group is merely done here to discover
and describe correlations that can never be completely congruent.
aufgetaucht sind. Kaum waren die Dosen verbraucht, ebbte alles
ab. Während sich in den westlichen Metropolen viele Sprühergenerationen durch Diebstahl der Dosen bemächtigt haben, ist das
in Nairobi keine Option. Egal ob Eisdiele oder Supermarkt – fast
überall steht am Eingang Sicherheitspersonal, um Kunden beim
Eintreten nach Waffen zu scannen. Damit ist der Zugang zu den
Dosen ein finanzielles Privileg und für Newcomer, v.a. die jungen,
der Einstieg zur Kunst blockiert. Die lokalen Sprüher erhoffen sich
einen enormen Aufschwung der Bewegung, wenn sie endlich professionelle Sprühdosenhersteller wie Montana davon überzeugt
haben, auch in Ostafrika aktiv zu werden.
Was hat mich aber anfangs irritiert? In Nairobi haben die Sprüher eine eigene Definition von Graffiti geschaffen. Hier steht zumeist nicht der Name des Sprühers im Vordergrund, sondern die
Message. Rechtlich bewegen sie sich in einer Grauzone und die
klar kriminalisierte Sphäre wird oft bewusst gemieden. Die Möglichkeit, nachts einfach irgendwo hinzugehen und sich irgendeinen Spot zu nehmen, ist in Nairobi nicht so einfach gegeben. Der
Künstler Uhuru meint, nachts laufe man als Sprüher Gefahr entweder ausgeraubt zu werden, der Polizei Bestechungsgelder zahlen zu müssen oder im schlimmsten Fall von dieser erschossen zu
werden. Diese Angst scheint nicht unbegründet zu sein: Innerhalb
der letzten zwei Tage unseres Aufenthalts hat die Polizei in Nairobi sieben Menschen „aus Notwehr“ erschossen. Darum fragen
die Künstler meist vorher oder manchmal auch nachher um die
Erlaubnis, eine Wand gestalten zu dürfen.
Die meisten Bilder finden sich in Wohngegenden wieder. Das
erschließt sich auch aus der Motivation der Künstler: Die Sprüher
Nairobis bleiben nicht bei ihrer Kunst stehen. Sie verstehen Graffiti auch als Werkzeug, um die Eliten anzuklagen, den Menschen
Hoffnung zu geben und sie zu motivieren, sich für eine bessere
Gesellschaft zu engagieren. Eine positive Kommunikation mit der
Bevölkerung steht im Zentrum. Dieses Ziel merkt man auch der
Umsetzung der Bilder an: Statt nur den eigenen Namenszug an der
Wand zu platzieren, schafft man Bilder. Hier einfach von Graffitis
zu sprechen, würde vielen Werken nicht gerecht. Sie sind oft mehrere Meter lang und hoch, sehr bunt, detailreich und Buchstaben
dienen nur der Ergänzung. Es sind oft Wandbilder, die zum Ste-
to cans is therefore a financial privilege that prohibits newcomers,
especially young ones, from participating in the scene. Local writers hope to see an enormous boost in the movement once they
can finally convince professional can manufacturers, such as Montana, to sell aerosol cans in East-Africa too.
But what was it that vexed me in the beginning? Writers
define their own brand of graffiti in Nairobi. More often than not,
it is not the name but rather the message of the writer that is
foregrounded. They move within a judicial grey area and often
consciously avoid clearly illegal activity. The possibility of simply
going somewhere at night to pick a spot to paint is not an easy
task in Nairobi. The artist Uhuru explains that at night, one runs
the danger of being either robbed, asked for bribe money or, in
the worst case scenario, getting shot by the police. This fear is not
baseless: During the last two days of our stay, police in Nairobi
shot seven people dead in ‘self-defence’. This is why most of the
times, the artists ask before, and sometimes after, for permission
to design a wall.
Most of the pieces are found in residential areas due to the
motivation of the artists. The writers of Nairobi do not stop at
art; they also understand graffiti as a tool to accuse elites, give
people hope, and motivate them to work towards a better society.
Positive communication with the population is central. This goal is
noticeable in the execution of the pieces: Instead of merely placing
their signatures on the wall, they create paintings. Merely talking
Spray Uzi, Kerosh and
Erase (DK): Nairobi
111
Swift9:
Things Fall Apart
African and AfroAmerican personalities: Dr. Mohamed
„Mo“ Ibrahim, Toni
Morrison, Chinua
Achebe, Gbowee
Leymah
112
henbleiben, Betrachten und Nachdenken einladen. Dadurch wird
die ganze Stadt zum Adressaten. Und die Sprüher haben etwas
zu sagen: Es sind Aufrufe zur unity und gegen Gewalt. Denn es
waren meist junge Männer im Alter unserer Gesprächspartner,
die im Rahmen der Wahlen 2007/2008 zu Tätern wurden, denen
über 1100 Kenianer*innen zum Opfer fielen. Es sind Aufrufe gegen
die politischen Eliten, die die Bevölkerung immer wieder entlang
ethnischer Linien gegeneinander aufwiegeln und durch und
durch als korrupt wahrgenommen werden. Darüber hinaus
sind es Aufrufe zu einer selbstbewussten Bezugnahme auf
Kenia, auf Afrika und schwarze Führungspersönlichkeiten:
Obama, Bob Marley, Malcolm
X und Nelson Mandela finden
sich oft als Portraits in den
Graffitis wieder. Statt also nur
mit dem eigenen Namen die eigene Szene anzusprechen und
die Bevölkerung links liegen
zu lassen, wird versucht, diese
mitzunehmen und für Graffiti als Kunstform und Medium
zu gewinnen. Die Menschen
sollen sich mit den Bildern identifizieren. Die Rechnung scheint
im Großen und Ganzen aufzugehen: Die Künstler berichten von
überwiegend positivem Feedback aus den Communities, die Bildproduktion wird so auch schon mal zum Nachbarschaftshappening
mit vielen Beteiligten und Zuschauern und die Bilder bleiben oft
jahrelang in die Nachbarschaft eingebettet; ihnen werden Wände
zur Verfügung gestellt; ja, sie wurden sogar um die Gestaltung
eines Zuges gebeten. Über ihre Graffitikampagne mit dem Aufruf
zu friedlichen Wahlen im Jahr 2012 berichteten neben den lokalen Medien auch The Guardian, CNN und VICE. Die positive gesellschaftliche Resonanz spiegelt sich auch in Aufträgen für die
Künstler wieder. Sie sind mittlerweile als Teil der kreativen Szene
of graffiti would not do justice to many of these works. They are
often several meters long and high, very colourful and detailed,
with letters serving a supplementary function. Often these murals
invite pause, contemplation and thought, turning the entire city
into an addressee. And their writers have something to say: They
make calls for unity and take a stand against violence. It was mostly young men of a similar age as our interlocutors who turned into
perpetrators during the elections of 2007/2008, claiming
the lives of more than 1.100
Kenyans. The pieces criticise
political elites who divide the
population along ethnic lines
and are considered corrupt
through and through. Furthermore, they call for a positive
relation to Kenya, Africa, and
Black leaders: Portraits of Obama, Bob Marley, Malcolm X,
and Nelson Mandela are often
the subjects of graffiti. Instead
of merely addressing the scene
with their names, leaving the
population out of the equation,
they engage the public, using
graffiti as an art form and a
medium for communication. People are supposed to identify with
the pictures. Overall, this seems to have turned out positively: Artists report mostly favourable feedback from the communities. The
production of a work sometimes becomes a neighbourhood happening with many participants and spectators. The pieces often
remain visible in the neighbourhood for years; walls are made
collectively available. Graffiti artists have even been requested to
paint a train. The Guardian, CNN, and Vice reported on the graffiti
campaign for peaceful elections in 2012 in addition to the local
media. This positive social resonance is mirrored in the number
of commissions for artists. They have established themselves as a
part of the creative scene and found commercial success. Those
fest etabliert und haben sich mit ihren Fähigkeiten kommerziell
gut aufgestellt: Zu ihren Auftraggebern gehören westliche Institutionen wie die UN, Kirchen, Geschäftsinhaber und sogar Angehörige der Eliten. Aus dieser Etablierung ergibt sich aber auch, dass
die überschaubare Anzahl von Künstlern namentlich bekannt ist
und somit ihr Handlungsspielraum als klassische Sprüher – eben
außerhalb des legalen Rahmens – eingeschränkt ist.
Zum Schluss sei mir einen Blick in die Glaskugel erlaubt: Nairobi bietet noch enormes Potenzial. Noch viele freie Flächen rufen
nach Bildern und das typische Milieu, aus dem sich die Graffitibewegung weltweit speist, die urbane Jugend, ist stark präsent. Eine
neue Generation wird noch viel Spielraum vorfinden und ihre alten
Meister als auch die Stadt herausfordern.
who commission their work include Western institutions such as
the UN, churches, shopkeepers and even members of the elite.
Since becoming established, this small number of artists is known
by name, which limits their room to manoeuvre as classic writers
outside of the legal realm.
To finish, permit me to glance into a crystal ball: Nairobi still
has an enormous potential. There are many blank walls calling to
be painted over and the typical milieu which globally feeds the
graffiti movement, the urban youth, is starkly visible. A new generation of writers will still find enough space to challenge the old
masters, and the city itself with their work.
Artist Unknown:
Jericho Hood in
Nairobi Pastlands
Swift9:
Aerosol Art Rising
113
Nuh, Swift9, Uhuru B: Look To Afrika, For There A King Will Be Born
Painted in celebration of Marcus Garvey‘s Birthday.
Smoki: Jericho Hood
114
Swift9
Spray Uzi: No Guns
During the “Amani Lazima“ campaign in Kibera
Spray Uzi: Lest We Forget
Football field in Mathare Valley after the post election violence.
115
Bankslave
(Kevin Esendi)
116
Interview with Bankslave
He is a graffiti artist and member of Spray Uzi. We met him in his studio at PAWA254,
a community centre for activists, journalists and artists.
Interviewers: Nadine Lorenz and Michau Kühn
Would you please introduce yourself and tell us since when you are in
graffiti?
My name is Bankslave and I have been a graffiti artist since
2000.
Since 2000?
Yeah, 2000. And I‘ve been painting Nairobi and some parts of
Europe for all this time.
But was there something special that put you into graffiti? Like in Europe the older generation says it has always been the movies Beat Street
and Wild Style in the cinema.
Yeah. I used to see some graffiti pieces in magazines. There
was the Source which we happened to have. And we just saw these nice pieces done by the TATS crew at the back cover. And that
kind of brought up that fire that I wanted to paint in the streets of
Nairobi. In the streets anywhere. You know. So that‘s kind of what
brought it to me – the paint, the pictures.
Was there any graffiti in Nairobi before you started?
Before I started? There were graffiti pieces done on matatus,
our taxis. So we had like a lot of pieces with really nice colourful
lettering. And I thought this is really “Wow!”, you can‘t wait to see
the next one, you know. And that kind of like brought that feeling
of wanting to go out and just do a big piece in the streets.
And how did you and your alias Bankslave come together?
How have you come to graffiti? Was there something special that put
you into it?
Yeah, I‘ve always wanted to do my work in the streets. I‘ve
always wanted to do my work where everyone is passing by, can
be motivated and inspired to see what I‘m doing. So I started out
painting on canvases and that, I thought, was just too selfish. I
thought I would just go outside and paint for the world, you know.
So that‘s why I discovered graffiti and discovered the spray can.
And I started out doing paintings on music videos for my friends.
You know, for the backdrops, so that they look colourful and nice.
And that went on and I became like a full-time graffiti artist.
You know, Bankslave is a name like any other. Just because
I thought I could get a name that speaks about me, speaks about
my hassle, you know, getting money. And being inspired by my
second name Esendi, which means ‚cents‘. You know, I got to get
a name that combined these ideas. So I just thought Bankslave
would be perfect for me.
Tell us more about your motivation to do graffiti. What was your motivation at the beginning and has it changed until now?
About my motivation to do graffiti? Say, you know, because
graffiti is not selfish like any other paintings that are being done.
When people work on canvases, some of them are just in galleries.
People go there and pay to see it and it‘s not for everyone. And
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everyone needs art. Everyone needs to be inspired. And graffiti
is here, it‘s not selfish, it‘s for everyone. Get inspired; get those
colours out there. Just everyone, just make the place beautiful, the
streets beautiful. And I might want to show off my art. That‘s how
I do it. I do it with graffiti. Street art in the streets of Nairobi. So
that‘s how I got inspired just to go out there and just paint.
How do you do your
graffiti? Like, what
kind of spots do you
choose? What kind of
pieces do you do? And
what kind of material
do you use?
Bankslave, Swift 9:
Sounds of Afrikah
On a radio studio
Mostly,
where
I do my graffiti is
where I will find a
good audience. Like
the people who are
passing by. That is a
key thing that I have
to keep in mind. Of
course I have to do a
research first. I have to ask around what they feel about what I‘m
going to paint over there. So that‘s the key, that‘s the first thing I
do. But then I just go there and just paint. I don‘t paint churches,
I don‘t paint on banks, I don‘t paint on places that are considered
religious. So I have to choose the spots and mostly I do the legal
spots. Legal spaces.
I think I‘ll come back to the question of legality later. But what kind of
pieces do you do? Do you use a lot of characters for example? Do your
pieces have a message? Or do you just write your name in letters?
My pieces are mostly realistic paintings, mostly about tributes,
about recognizing our heroes so that we get to inspire, you know,
the youth, the people who are coming in as new graffiti artists. And
everyone who is passing by. Just to make people remember a face
that I‘ve put on the walls. So it‘s mostly about tribute, mostly about
the fallen people who have died and who were heroes. I get their
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pictures and then I put them on the walls. So they live forever. And
mostly it is about putting peace, about speaking to the community
in a positive way, rather than writing my name on the walls.
What kind of material do you use?
Mostly, I use spray paint. Spray paint, roller and paint. When
I do big pieces I use spray paint.
How important is personal fame to you?
I would say when I started, I was looking for fame, too. Because
I was like, showing off my skills with art. But it came up to turn down
when, you know, I started to see what‘s going on. When you get older you see what‘s going on in society. And you want to address these things that are going on. Be an activist in a way. And this brought
down the thought about being famous with art, and encouraged me
to use the art form to transform lives. Change the mind-sets of the
community. So that‘s how I got to turn down about fame.
Do the people on the streets know your name? So, they don‘t know you
in person, but they know what Bankslave stands for?
Yes, I try a lot to put my name out there because Bankslave
is my brand. And I‘m trying to use it to, like, do more pieces and
more jobs in the future. Like when I‘m doing my t-shirts, when I‘m
doing my companies. I‘m going to be still using the brand Bankslave.
Bankslave as a brand.
Bankslave is a brand that I‘m going to use in the future. You
know, even if I‘m going to be doing books, photographs, fashion.
So that‘s why I keep putting it out there to the people of Nairobi
and the world. Just to spread the word out there. For people to
know that this is a brand that is going to transform Kenya. And I
tried so hard, you know, just put it in the streets and in a way that
people can relate to the brand in the street.
What do you mean by “transform Kenya”?
„To transform Kenya” is just to, like, bring something new.
You know, in terms of art, in terms of style, in terms of ideas. What
I‘m putting out is kind of like something that is out of the box.
Something new, something funky. Bankslave is a funky person, is
a person who loves life, who‘s fun and that I would like to show it
in a brand with more colour.
During our research, we found a lot of political graffiti during the election campaign in 2007. I know you have done it with other guys, but is
this Bankslave as well? A political message, a political transformation?
Yeah. With a political angle, I worked with very, very big artists in Nairobi. Like my boys here, Swift9 and Uhuru Brown, and
some other artists who are still up and coming. The aim was to try
to speak to the community and to tell them about the atrocities
that were done in the country before. And just to use it as activism
and let the people know what is wrong and what is right through
images. So we went out to do, like, big pieces of art in the streets
of Nairobi. And people really loved them, people liked them. And
it‘s all, all, all over the world.
Yeah, I saw one of the political pieces in Kenyatta Street in the bank
district. There‘s a black and grey one with a vulture, it was about the
elections.
Yeah. What we classify as a vulture is, you know, the way
the vulture eats, eats up everything and even if you‘re dead, the
vulture will still eat you up. So that‘s what we portrayed our politicians as, because they are like taking everything. You know,
they‘re asking for more, every time and people are suffering. People are poor, you know. And we had to come out to fight that. But
in a clever way, through images.
What inspires you? I mean like places, music, spots?
Inspiration always comes about in life, you know, whenever
you walk and where I come from - in Kibera . The population is
quite big in Nairobi and people live in a place like Kibera where
it‘s really crowded. And you get to see a lot of things happening
every day. So you get inspired by that. Every day you have something new that you want to tell the community, you know. It
can be like story telling. And it‘s our way of life, you know. That‘s
how we put it out. Through images. So it‘s just life that inspires.
And also like the happenings that are happening currently. Like
you find a leader like Nelson Mandela, just dead the other day,
you get inspired because of what he did and you just say: “Now
you have to paint somewhere. You have to show the Members of
Parliament, you know, that they‘re always taking money from the
people who are down in society”. So that‘s how we come to the
streets and just put up his face. Just to show the MPs this how
you have to be; how you have to live and this is how we will honour you when you‘re gone.
And is there something that inspires your style?
Sometimes, you know, you get to be versatile in your style.
But content always comes in differently. So even some contents
would come in that would inspire me just to do some writings in
the streets. So contents, of course, kind of like you find that you
can‘t put a face or an image or a character to your style. So it makes me go into writing. I would go out and just get a brush and
that would change my style, of course. But I have to be versatile.
To get this information out there. For the people to relate. Because that‘s the key thing. The people have to relate to what you‘re
saying, because this is Nairobi. You know, if you just write something, they‘re going to be: “Oh, that is witchcraft. Oh, that is devil
worshipping”. They‘re going to go in the negative way. But when
you get something there that is really simple, something that they
can see and recognize, then they‘re not going to be having questions and then you‘re going to do your piece and it‘s going to be
to the point.
Can you say something about the Nairobi and East African scene?
The Eastern African graffiti scene is still a growing scene, you
know. And we were trying to make it, like, where we can earn
from graffiti. Because I‘ve been living from graffiti. I‘m earning
from graffiti for these past years and I still want to earn from
it because we have brought it in a way that people can accept
it. Rather than vandalism where other countries do even have a
police task force on graffiti artists. And over here it‘s ok, because
even the police like it. But you have to come in cleverly, to choose
your walls and where you‘re painting.
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Bankslave
120
But what if a new generation of graffiti artists comes up doing graffiti
art in a different way than you, for example street bombings, would you
accept that?
Of course.
You wouldn‘t stop them if they carry out ‘acts of vandalism’?
Of course, I know whenever there‘s like a lot of spray paint
there will be vandalism. And I know there will be a point where
it‘s going to be hard to stop. Because graffiti can‘t be stopped!
[laughs] Graffiti is still going to be there and is still growing in
Africa and with time there are going to be artists who are coming
in, you know, like trying out. But at least for our sake to control it,
when we go outside our pieces have to be just to the point. So that
when the other generation comes in, they‘re going to have some
people to look up to. Yeah. So that‘s how we control it.
How big is the scene in Nairobi?
It‘s not really a big scene there. But it‘s a community of around,
I think, around fifty artists in Nairobi. Yeah. But they‘re not that active. So I would say it’s more or less twenty artists that are active.
And how would you describe the relationship between the artists?
It‘s quite a small amount of artists and we are still struggling
together. We can‘t get fights, you know, like in other countries. I
know there are people fighting each other because of the spaces.
And over here in Kenya, we are more concerned about how to get
paint. Because we are struggling with the low quality paint and
the paint that doesn’t cover up. We have to use spray paint mixed
in with can paint, with the brush paint and roller. So we apply all
these different techniques to create a nice artwork out of it. So it
brings us together more than it would separate us. So we have a
good relationship with each other as graffiti artists in Kenya.
And if there were no more problems in getting good spray cans in Nairobi, what do you think would happen?
I think if we had spray paint and quite a lot of it, it would create
a lot of commotion among graffiti artists. I think that would come by.
Do you do something else in art besides graffiti?
I would say just graffiti is my whole life. Because when I‘m
not doing graffiti, I‘m researching about graffiti. When I‘m not
researching about graffiti, I‘m just watching graffiti movies. I‘m
meeting graffiti people; my life is just all around graffiti. And I‘m
doing graffiti on canvases, I‘m doing T-shirts. I‘m going to open up
a company. It‘s going to be just graffiti the whole time.
Can you make a living out of graffiti?
Yes, it‘s possible.
Tell us something about the feedback on graffiti. Not only the positive,
but also the negative feedback.
I would say the feedback hasn‘t been negative. Most of the
people who have seen my pieces have appreciated them. Have
appreciated them through the years and that‘s been keeping me
going. Because sometimes when I‘m writing, just writing my name
with a marker on a bus or somewhere. And then I find someone
just writing there: “Good artwork, go on“. You know, that kind of
like makes me – I don‘t know who that is – but it kind of really
motivates me to do what I do. And it‘s a fun thing, you know, I‘m
having fun with life, like everyone else who makes money out of
singing, of all these other arts, of football, and everything else. So
why not have fun just painting.
But does graffiti have enemies in Nairobi? Is there any negative feedback on this art?
Of course, of course. You got to have negative feedback, probably from other artist who do contemporary painting.
Oh, what a surprising answer.
Surprising, yes.
Really surprising.
Yeah, because some of them, you know, like, discredit graffiti
from art. They say that‘s not art. But for me it‘s art and it‘s full time
art. And they‘re scared of it because we do the biggest murals and
we do it really quickly and so fast that it would take them probab-
121
ly like 6 months, you know.
And definitely more people see your art.
And more people will see our art. So for them, we get to be rivals.
Yeah. I‘m surprised.
Yeah. That‘s how it is, that‘s how it is.
Can you imagine graffiti in a gallery?
Yeah, I think, I‘ve seen graffiti in galleries. Even what Banksy
does. It is a clever approach to graffiti.
Do you think a gallery is a good place for graffiti?
I think if you have to sell your pieces, a gallery is a way, you
know, to get the money. But the pieces still remain outside. Their
home is outside in the streets.
Where do you see the future of the Nairobian graffiti scene? Is there an
upcoming generation?
I see the future of Nairobi street art like far better, because
I‘m still hungry of getting spray paint here. And yes, yes, yes. Of
course there‘s going to be a next generation of graffiti. Most definitely. Because it‘s a nice way of expression and there are going
to be kids coming in to paint. So, it‘s not only in Nairobi. It‘s all
over Kenya and East Africa. So the thing is still growing. We are
still painting and with time we‘re going to be having, like, a lot of
graffiti artists in East Africa.
Do you do some work with Nairobi’s youth?
Yes. You know, sometimes we have jams where we have a
couple of graffiti artists come along and just paint. And we have a
spot downstairs where we go and just have a barbecue and have
fun when we‘re painting and with that we are trying to bring up a
culture. Because it just started, you know. And we want to bring
it, because before that there was another jam that we had when
we were meeting with a lot of artists. That‘s where we discovered
ourselves, and we call our crew Spray Uzi. And we discovered ourselves when we were painting in this art jam. It was called ‚Words
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and Pictures‘ at Wapi. So ‚Words and Pictures‘ was big and then,
because of the funding, it went off. But we‘re still trying to bring
another event like that. There are kids, even youth coming in to
just learn how to paint. We give them masks, we give them spray
paint and then they just do their thing. Explore.
Does your work out there have effects on the people in the city?
Yeah, I think what they see is this artist who just came in and
wants to express himself and is taking over the spaces of Nairobi.
And the first time we started, people were criticizing, you know,
the art form. And through the years and our online presence, it
opened up their minds, Kenyan minds, to a lot of art, artworks in
the other parts of the world. So through that they come back to
appreciate us, to appreciate what we do. So they see what we do
in the streets of Nairobi and they like us and then they say: “Keep
on doing what you‘re doing. It‘s good work”. So there we found a
lot of appreciation to, through and with the people of Nairobi and
we‘re still going to go on because, you know, we‘re taking these
spaces and we‘re using them to educate and make people know
that we are here, we are artists and we are here to inform and to
teach. And so just to show our art out there, you know, show off
what we are good at in. So we‘re just showing off in the streets of
Nairobi. Showing the world that we also can paint.
What is special in Nairobi for graffiti artists? What would be different
for you if you painted somewhere else like in Dar es Salaam or a European City?
In Nairobi, graffiti is a new art form. It‘s quite an explosive,
colourful thing. And we do this in Nairobi and people like it more
than they would, I think, in any other place in Africa. It‘s something new, it‘s really vibrant. People are scared of new things, but
our approach was something that was different and something
that was nice. So, that‘s the effect that has brought people to our
pieces in Nairobi and I think it would be different if I did it somewhere else in the world. Because people would be like looking at
it as, like: “Oh, that‘s just street art”. But here, because it‘s new and
it‘s different, people like it a lot.
What kind of relationship does the scene have to authorities, especially
to the police? Do you have any experience with the police?
I think you‘re asking if we get into trouble with graffiti. Yeah,
I think the people you get into trouble with are the City Council,
you know. Because the police have a lot of crimes they want to
take care of in Nairobi. So the City Council are the ones who, you
know, they always ask you if you have permission to paint their
walls, you know. Because every wall is owned by the city. So if the
City Council police finds you, you‘re going to be in trouble.
Is every wall that you paint licensed?
No, I prefer just to go on a wall. If I like the wall, I prefer just
going on the wall and painting it. And then question later.
What happens if a police car comes by?
When you‘re going to paint in the streets as a graffiti artist,
you‘re always prepared that you‘re going to paint. There are the
positive and of course the negative aspects. Maybe you’re going to
get robbed, or you‘re going to get arrested. All those possibilities
are in the back of my mind, but I get to be careful. I know it’s just
like the way a soldier does when he goes to war. So you have to be
prepared. I‘m prepared when I‘m going to these walls, especially a
wall that I like and that is controversial. I‘m always prepared and if
the police come, you know how to deal with it later. But I have to
finish my piece because, it really hurts when you have something
inside you and you want it to come out. You know, you have to get
it out. And it‘s a nice feeling when the next day you are passing by
you‘re seeing the piece that you did last night. It’s a very nice feeling. Yeah, so, it‘s a good feeling when you go out to paint.
Ok, one last question. Can you say something about Nairobi? Do you like
it, or what kind of relationship do you have to Nairobi besides graffiti?
Is Nairobi is a nice place to be for you?
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Nairobi is where I was born and it‘s a nice
place to be, and I‘m always trying to make Nairobi a better place.
Yeah. A better, colourful place with my art.
Spray Uzi,
Tona One (D):
The Vulture
Foto: Andre Epstein
Nairobi city centre
during the election
campaigns in 2012
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Philipp Günther
124
Tagebuchauszüge
Diary excerpts
„Die Stadt ist voll. Voller Menschenströme, voller Smog,
voller Lärm.“
„Vielleicht ist die Stadt doch ganz inspirierend, wenn sie so viele
Fragen stellt.“
„Auf dem Hinweg haben wir 2 oder 2,5 Stunden gebraucht. Für
den Rückweg 15 Minuten.“
„Wie soll ich über Kunst schreiben, wenn ich keinen Zugang zu
ihr finde?“
„Morgen ist der 50. Jahrestag der Unabhängigkeit.“
„[...] aber Künstler*innen werde ich wohl nie verstehen.“
„Immer wieder fallen die Kontrollen an vielen Stellen der Stadt
auf.“
„[...] versucht einen „Maasai-Markt“ zu finden, aber haben nur eine
Mall gefunden.“
“The city is full. Full of human flows, full of smog, full of noise.”
“Perhaps the city is so inspiring after all, because it asks so many
questions.”
“On the forward run we needed two or two and a half hours. On
the way back we just needed 15 minutes.”
“How shall I write about art when I don‘t find an access?”
“Tomorrow is the 50th anniversary of independence.”
“[...] but probably I will never understand artists.”
“The checks are conspicuous again and again at a lot of spots in
the city.”
“[...] tried to find a ‘Massai-market’, instead just found a mall.”
Abakisimba Musical
heating up the
drums for rehearsal
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Khoisan Hassan
Dominik Binnahizza
126
Interview with Khoisan Hassan and Dominik Binnahizza
Hassan and M-stic are Nairobian musicians. Besides rap, they
perform with a lot of other artists in the project “Abakisimba
Musical“. “Abakisimba Musical” tries to combine Kenyan instruments with a huge variety of musical styles.
Interviewers: Nadine Lorenz and Philipp Günther
First of all, we‘d like you to introduce yourselves.
H: My name is Khoisan Hassan, I‘m a member of “Abakisimba
Musical”. I‘m a hip-hop artist and I write music.
M: I‘m M-stic. My real name is Dominik Binnahizza, musically
I‘m M-stic. I rap, freestyle and I‘m a songwriter, too. I‘m a member
of „Abakisimba Musical“.
When did you first get in touch with art, do you remember?
M: I can remember. I was at class eight in primary school.
That was the time I started getting in love with music, it was 2007.
H: It started when I was young. I remember I used to disturb
my mom a lot, because she had this music system. She never liked
it when we touched it. So we used to break in where she hid it.
After stealing it, we listened to music, like recorded stuff. And
when she came back in the evening, we returned it, but still she
knew. And that‘s when I knew, there is art in me. When I went
to high school, I just started writing music. And it grew and grew
and grew. When I finished high school, I recorded my first single
and since then it still goes on.
In the beginning,
making music?
what
was
your
motivation
to
start
H: My motivation was to tell the world stories that a lot of
people don‘t understand, through music and through art. A lot of
people don‘t get the chance to hear that kind of music that reflects
on the world that we are living in. I see the world is really corrupt.
And a lot of people don‘t understand that. So that‘s the kind of
message that got into me, and that‘s my force that drives me.
M: I‘m from the ghetto, for one thing. There is a lot of crime,
like thugs growing up there, and guys who are arrogant in life.
Growing up there was not that cool. So that was the time, I started
to think of ways how I could face society and perish that situation.
At this time, I was a footballer; then I started moving, talking to
my colleagues, my friends. All of them, they were taking drugs,
others were using guns. So their life was tough, and I felt the story
and wanted to tell this story to the world.
H: He‘s emotional.
M: Okay. My brother is one of these guys. He was close to
my family, and he was a coach of the team I was playing football
in. He was still a thug, too. And one day, we were chilling in the
hood. We went for a competition, and then we turned home. That
night, we separated around nine and that story going on at night,
was not that cool. I don‘t know how to call them. The guys of the
hood, the strong guys. In my hood, there is that clique that spots
the youths, they catch the youths. Okay, when you‘re bad in society and you‘re doing evil and you‘re doing things which are not
cool, they spot you and they start counting the days, let me say.
Then, they come at night when most guys are sleeping. They take
you outside the banjo. They pour you petrol – that story inspired
me in music – to talk to you not to do it, to stand with most positive ideas in society. I think now I can reach them through music.
I‘m doing music for them. I want to tell their story. I want to bring
them to the positive society. The ones whose lives get lost. This is
the reason I‘m doing music, I think. It‘s a call, it‘s a sign.
So what about you, Hassan? M-stic already told us whom he is doing
music for. Who are the persons you are doing music for?
H: Everything he is talking about, I think is also something
I have experienced, ‘cause I also come from the ghetto. That‘s
where I was born. That‘s where I grew up, you know? So, all these
things are happening to friends, people I know, family. So when
they happen, nobody tells their story. A person gets buried and
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that‘s it, you know? And we don‘t want that to continue. There is
a way you can tell the world this is happening. You know, a lot of
people in other countries have used music. In the US, they use music to change, you know. Our things are happening, so that‘s the
same thing. That‘s the same thing we want to do in Kenya, and
we want to do it all over Africa. And as he said, it‘s a call. We don‘t
do it for fun, for money, it‘s a calling. When you wake up every
day and you find yourself here, it‘s a serious business. So that kind
of a situation is what drove me into music. It‘s happening everywhere. It‘s happening here in the city, a lot of stuff, and when you
see them, nobody cares. I guess people listen to music all over the
world. The message that you bring through music matters a lot.
And that‘s a kind of inspiration that I get, and I put it to sound and
people listen to it.
If there was a message for today, which one would it be?
H: I think the world needs love, you know? The world needs
love. The world needs unity. People need to be human. We are not
human, anymore, we have passed that. People need to understand
how the world is, how it is supposed to be and how it‘s going to
be. Because we passed through here. And what we should do is
to make it a better place for the next generation. To do something
good. That‘s the message that I can pass across. People need love.
M: My message. Most I‘ve got, is will of life. You can handle
all the situations in life. Peace, love and unity.
What did music do to you, personally? When you started it, did it change
something in your life?
M: Yeah, of course. Music has been life-sustaining. Music is
the only weapon that I have. I use music to get everything in my
life. Get clothes, food and to have fun. So music is basic to me and
it has that love. So I say: Thank you, music!
H: I find peace in music. There is love and you feel like you‘re
doing the right thing in life. And that‘s what motivates me to do
music. It‘s just peace to me. If I do something else, I‘m disturbed.
It also gets us little things like rent and that kind of stuff, and food
and shelter. In that way, you do something you love and it brings
money to you. What else do you need in life?
128
How would you describe the music you do?
H: My music is conscious hip-hop. It‘s poetic, in a way. The
reason why I do that is because I relate to it. I can do it better
when I do it like that. Going to a studio, doing a commercial song
and putting it out there in the radio station, that‘s good for making
money and for business, but I feel comfortable doing it the other
way. Just maintaining the consciousness in it. Word is power.
When you put it through sound, it inspires people and that‘s my
motivation, to inspire people through what I do. So that‘s why
it‘s conscious and a spiritual kind of poetic hip-hop. That‘s how I
define it.
M: As my bro´ Hassan has said, I‘m doing conscious hip-hop.
It‘s kind of a spoken word, poetic style and the flow tells a story
that brings the mood of listening to the music. I was performing
with a DJ before, but now I‘m doing a traditional Kenyan style.
I mix the community instruments and come up with a Kenyan
sound. I think it‘s traditional hip-hop or Kenyan music. Kenyan hiphop you can call it.
So what‘s typical of Kenyan hip-hop?
M: For Kenyan hip-hop I‘m using Kenyan instruments and
come up with my flow, my style. So it‘s a typical Kenyan vibe, not
a producer producing whatever electrical sound. It‘s traditional,
plain and analogue.
What is your inspiration?
M: Society. Our streets are inspiring me a lot. When I‘m moving, the things that are going on there. Listening to stories, reading books and mingling up.
H: People inspire me. Because everything that happens in the
world, whether good or bad, is done by people. People are writing
books which I read. And those books are inspiring me. It´s also
people carrying guns and do abortions and that kind of stuff. People are changing society. Those are the people inspiring me. The
leaders, not the politicians, the leaders.
And what do you think about Nairobi?
H: Nairobi is a great city. It‘s one of those few cities in the
world where it can be raining and there‘s sun at the same time.
It‘s a great city. I love it. Guys are creative. Art is not as big as
in other cities, but there‘s a lot of creativity here. There‘s a lot of
great people and great minds. And Nairobi is home. It‘s my city,
my town.
M: Nairobi is a nice city where I get much love. It‘s a city
which is open to accommodate visitors. Nairobi is a nice hood.
Welcome!
Is there any effect that Nairobi has on your music?
M: I‘ll slice it because I have much love for Nairobi. But there are pirates. Guys who don‘t cooperate with us and pirate our
music. Selling it and making cash without having agreed with us.
H: Just to add to the Nairobi stuff, there are also beautiful
women. I just forgot that about Nairobi. To come to your question,
can you please rephrase it?
Is there any effect that the city of Nairobi has on your music? Imagine
you would have been born somewhere else, would there be something
different in your music?
H: Music is universal. I was doing music for a while and then
I stopped. The reason was that I realized the hip-hop I was doing
was the same kind of hip-hop that was being done everywhere. I
wanted to do a good production. Like M-stic said about working
with a Kenyan sound. It‘s just something unique and something
really new. I think I found that in Nairobi, I don‘t know if you can
find it somewhere else. Finding it in Nairobi is cool and in that
way Nairobi has affected me.
We‘re coming to the end now. Can you tell me something about your
band „Abakisimba Musical“?
H: “Abakisimba Musical“is a band maintained by our director
Jumba Chagala. We are twelve guys there. There is M-stic, Brian
Gugo, Erick Abuto, David Abuto, Musyoki Mutua, John Udulele,
me and a lot more guys. Each guy does something apart from
playing the instrument which is essential. It‘s really important for
every artist in „Abakisimba Musical“ to know how to play an instrument. If you are an artist and you don‘t play an instrument, it´s
sometimes hard. Me and M-stic, we rap, there is Johnny who sings
in the group and there is Nelson who also sings.
Each guy does something different. We just started eight
months ago. We want to bring that Kenyan sound out there, for
people to experience something new. People shall understand that
there‘s still good music out there. That‘s what we want to bring to
the world. Good music, that good beat, that good African, Kenyan
beat. That‘s what „Abakisimba Musical“ wants to do. And any
promoter out there, any manager, organizer should have a place
to welcome „Abakisimba Musical“. We entertain the world! That‘s
our wish.
Would you like to add something?
M: I‘m sending greetings to you guys and your country. Say
‚Hi‘ to them. By the time they feel to visit our country, they can
come over!
H: You guys are great. What you are doing is really nice, meeting you guys and exchanging ideas, and that kind of stuff. We
need more of that. When you go back to Germany, tell the Germans that there is „Abakisimba Musical“ and that they would love
to entertain them. That‘s one of my greatest wishes. Just to go out
there and make the world have fun. People should be happy every
time. You should make sure you‘re happy. It‘s good to have stress,
it motivates you, but make sure you‘re happy. That what you do
in life makes you happy. That‘s the most important thing in life,
being happy. Love, unite and peace.
Thank you very much!
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Abakisimba Musical
performing at
Sawa Sawa Festival
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Interview with Kombe Kithi and Reuben Mangi
Kombe Kithi is a Narobian musician doing Afro-Fusion music.
He plays guitar and sings. He studies media and communication
and is doing his master´s degree.
Reuben Mangi is an Afro-Fusion musician, playing various
instruments. In his professional life, he is a technologist.
Interviewer: Nadine Lorenz, Philipp Günther
What was the first thing you remember when you first got in touch with
music?
You are doing Afro-Fusion. What kind of music is that?
RM: In family. I come from a background where almost
everybody is a musician. Starting from my grandfather, my uncles,
my dad, my aunts, they all committed to me. So I come from a
singing family. Therefore, music has been my life.
KK: The first time, I was still in primary school. In our church,
I was introduced to music. I loved music then, I grew up with it
and here I am. That is how it went.
What was your motivation to start doing music by yourself?
KK: When I was young, there were instruments at home. I
saw my uncle doing music. I got interested and learned it up from
there on. However, I am just interested in music. That is how I got
to where I am right now.
RM: As I told you, I have been singing all along ever since
my childhood. But when I went to campus, that´s when I came
to meet different people, playing different instruments and I got
interested. Actually, it was on campus when I picked the guitar
and started playing. Even before I started playing the instrument,
I noted that I could compose. I started writing songs way back
before I started playing. So when I started playing the guitar, it
even complemented what I was doing. I picked up interest from
there, have done quite a number of songs, I have directed to people. Music is a learning process. You keep learning here and there,
when you meet good people you learn from them, when you meet
people, who are not good, as well you say “You got to learn that”.
And then you keep learning day by day.
RM: I usually say that nobody can ever come up with something new in this world. Whatever you can play, whatever you can
sing is an influence of many other things that you have listened to.
The reason why I am saying this is because I come from a rich African background, but the guitar is not an African instrument. So
having learned the guitar and doing whatever I am doing with my
African thing, using the guitar which is Western, and also having
listened to so much of Western music (blues, country, reggae and
all that) is influencing what I am doing. This is a fusion between
the African music and the West-African and that is why you call
it Afro-Fusion.
KK: And in addition to that, it is simply modernizing the African style of music. In the past, our forefathers would not sing
a particular song in a particular key. But right now, that is what
we are doing. We are trying to break these songs, those compartments, singing particular chords, keys and also bringing some of
this Western art, these Western instruments. That is how to get
to Afro-Fusion.
Who are the people you are doing the music for?
KK: Well, the target is actually everyone.
RM: True, target is everyone. But you cannot sing a Swahili
song targeting a German market. There are limits to whatever
we are doing. Perhaps, if you want to reach the German market, then you will try to put some German lyrics or language in
the song, so that you reach the people. But what we try to do
is to have a message. In today’s generation, music really does
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not have a message.
It lacks content and the creativity behind the lyrics and melodies. So what we are trying to do is to bring a message in a
creative and musical way and still according to the existing musicrules.
What is your message?
RM: Messages can vary. At the end of the day, the message
has to be measured. For example, I have sung about love, about
peace, about living in harmony in Kenya, I have praised people in
my songs. As long as you have a message you are fine, but the
way you present this message is important and it has to be precise. In a song, you are limited to around three minutes and within
these three minutes, you have to provide your message, it has to
be dealt with.
KK: It depends also on the feeling of the artist. Sometimes, I
feel something that I want to communicate. In some cases, you
feel you want to do a gospel-song. In that time-frame, you bring
something like that to some people. Also I have done mainly lovesongs. So not much.
Why don‘t you do music in and with a band?
RM: Running a band in Kenya is quite expensive and not
many musician play music this way. Most people are doing computer-raised, digital music. What is happening right now is that
you go to a studio, do your track and then you go for it. But what
we are doing now is the old style of things. You have to learn an
instrument and master it so that you can even perform on your
own as a single person. What I am saying is that if you are not to
do a concept, if you just cannot do it with a guitar, you have to
bring on professional people who have been there long enough. So
you have to pay them for doing these things. Therefore, you need
to be ‘up there’ to be able to afford these people.
When you think back a decade or so, has something changed in the
music-scene?
RM: Music is like fashion. It is like a trend. What happened
in the past? People, who were doing music the live way, playing
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instruments and all that. For you to make it in the music-industry, you have to be talented and really good. When the digitalera came, people moved away from doing instruments. But funny
enough, these days you see a lot of people carrying guitars and
saxophones. People are going back to the old times to do music
the hard way, because that is appreciated more than this other
music that will not last.
KK: 50 years ago, the music was not really organized and it
was not following a specific format. To sing nowadays, you will
realize that there are things like off-tunes and off-beats. These are
changes I can see since we started.
What about the audience? Has it changed or does it change right now?
KK: Regarding the audience, there are various audiences to
different types of music. At the end of the day, it does not matter
how good you are at playing an instrument or singing. If you do
not have an audience, you are not in business. Music these days
has found new elements of show-business. You have to be an
entertainer.
The most popular music these days is hip-hop and rap – which
are Western styles of music. The only issue is that more than one
song may get a massive audience. So it does not last. You are just
there for a few moments and then you are gone. But music, that
is live-music that is played by professionals, instrumentalists and
singers, is music that stands the tests of time. And it has an audience, maybe not as big, because it is music that is found to be
appreciated by the old people. Perhaps the people who are listening to hip-hop now will realize in some years that they are back
to the old music.
RM: I think that the musicians or the artists have also to challenge the test of the audience. As it stands now, the audience is
scattered. If you want to target all of them, the artist has to come
up with a song that will have a combination of things, to stand
the test which is very hard. Like he said, you cannot really come
to all the audience.
KK: I must also notice this, by the way. As much as you may
target very different specific audiences, anything that is good will
turn out, regardless of the listeners. For example, there is a song
currently, that´s a hit for quite some time already, Eric Wainaina´s
song “Daima Kenya”. That song is sort of a classical song, but
it´s appreciated by all Kenyans across the border. There is also a
group that is doing so good right now called Sauti Sol, they sing.
In a normal situation they would only be appreciated by people
who listen to singing music. But if you look at their performances,
you´ll see that they are appreciated by all audiences across the
border. Good things will always stand out, no matter what.
You told us that you are a journalist and technologist. Was it ever an aim
of you to earn enough money with your music?
KK: At the end of the day, you have to get something from
whatever you do. For me, I look at music as much as it launches
my soul, it is entertaining me and I look at it also as business. So
yes, I look forward to the time I make money. And not little money,
much money. I have to put so much hard work into good music.
RM: Five years ago, I used to play in a band somewhere. I
used to hang from it, the concerts. But for me music is not really
business. I am not inclined for business, but for entertaining. I
just love music. It suits my soul, something like that. When I am
stressed, I play the guitar and get comfortable.
Is it also a matter of how society changes regarding music and art in general? Is it linked with better opportunities to earn money with music?
KK: It is true that society changes regarding art. Technology
has really helped. The reason why one may struggle to live off
art is because you do not get recognition from other people. You
do your art, but you are just in your seclusion, in your workshop.
You do not come out and there are no means for you to come out.
But today, with these various platforms (TV, internet, and social
networks) it is really easy for one to expose oneself to the entire
world, and for people to view and appreciate one’s work. So yes,
with time, as people see how creative some people are, they get
to learn to appreciate it. And gradually, people are living off arts.
Not just drawing, not just music, but even dancing. In the past,
you would not see people coming out confidently saying “I am a
professional dancer and live off that”. But today, there are dancers
who being recruited to perform for big artists. And then they get
quite much out of that.
RM: Three or four years ago, people could not live off this art
and music. Today, law is protecting these artists. There is the issue of patents and copyright. So actually, the work of the artists is
protected and from there, they can make some living.
7
Photo Exhibition
- 50 Years of
Kenyan Music
3
Sawa Sawa Festival
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Tabu Osusa - Ketebul Music
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Interview with Tabu Osusa - Ketebul Music
Ketebul Music is a nonprofit, non-governmental organization
based at the GoDown Arts Centre in Nairobi, Kenya. Ketebul
means “drum sticks”; the term derives from the Luo language
of Western Kenya. The name was a natural choice for an organization that has a vision of an African society that celebrates
its cultural identity, and also recognizes the special role that
artists play in people’s lives, every day.
Tabu Osusa is a key part of the East African music industry. A
Kenyan native, he is the founding Executive Director of Ketebul
Music, and for the last 30 years, has been involved in the music
industry as a promoter, producer, composer, and band manager.
Interview: Nadine Lorenz
What is Ketebul music about?
ambitious program, we do all over East Africa. We have mobile
studios. Our output is recording these sounds which are kind of
culture sounds. A lot of older people know the good sounds and
most of them are very old. Of course, they will never come to
the studio. It´s like an extensional program of „Retracing Kenya´s
music“, but different because here we go for traditional sounds.
You´ll find a lot of old men who got all these types of playing
an old instrument that´s disappearing, and nobody knows who
they are. It´s a col-laboration with some partners in the UK called
„Abubilla Music“. The reason why we got all this started, was a
gentleman called James Allen who was touring Kenya some years
earlier. He heard about me going to the villages to record artists
and so he wanted to assist. And I said “Yeah, mostly, I go to the
villages but I don´t really record them, I bring them back to Nairobi, and then record them there”. But at some point, I realized
that when I´m moving them from their element, it´s not the same
thing anymore, the dynamics change. And when he asked how he
could help, I said “If I could require a mobile studio, there´d be no
need to record them in Nairobi, and I could record them were they
are”. So we set up a mobile studio. We do it twice a year. And if
you google it, you´ll find a card with all the areas we´ve been and
the music. It´s very interesting. So that´s what it is.
We do a lot of research and development of East African music. We do this through one main prog-ram, it´s called „Spotlight
on Kenyan Music“. We work very closely with the Alliance Francaise. It´s a talent search, but with a difference. Instead of waiting
for the musicians to come to us, we go to them. We go to the
villages and all the small centres to scout for talent. Because one
thing I realized many years ago, is that a lot of talent search is
based around Nairobi. They are located here, and then everybody
has to come to them. Most good musicians are really poor. In fact,
it turns it into an elite thing when only those with money who
can come to Nairobi can end up in this research. It´s only the rich
who can give this opportunity. So, we decided to give everybody
a chance. That´s one program we do, and we started it in 2005.
The other one is called „Retracing Kenya´s popular music“,
because we realized that there was a big disconnect between the
youth and the older generation. The reason being that most Kenyan youths don´t know their past. I don´t know what happens in
Germany, but as in the States, all these hip-hop guys, they know
who were there before them. The James Browns and the rest. But
here it wasn´t like that. And it was not a fault of theirs, it was
because they didn´t had anywhere to go to. (...) So through some
grants we got through the foreign foundation, we were doing a lot
of research. We put the outcome into a multimedia package. There
is an audio in it and a DVD. The DVD is about one hour with interviews of the old musicians. For the audio, I have chosen some of
the best music from the past. There is also a small booklet where
you can read some background information about it.
Another project we do is called „Singing Wells“. It´s a very
What was your motivation to start Ketebul music?
My motivation was that I just didn´t like the music that was
being produced around. Everything sounded so American. I don´t
have a problem with hip-hop or American music, but I would love
to listen to American music made by Americans. I would like Kenyans to do their own thing. And I mean, you know, hip-hop music
135
evolves. And I thought, why can´t you even use hip-hop, but it
should be rooted. That´s why I decided to do a lot of percussion.
So I used to go and look out for artists. And so far, it has worked
very well. I´ve created a lot of artists and a lot of them are starting
to be very successful.
And how do you promote them?
First of all, we call them here, because promoting is one thing.
You have to promote what already exits. So when I’m with an artist, I give them a direction. I listen to them if I like their style and I
say fine “You have a good voice, but the style is wrong”. Okay. Not
really wrong but I believe it´s not really right. (...) So we clear the
sound and then record it well, package all the stuff well, adding a
good video. Some of them are sold online, but we also look out for
festivals. We send their CDs and, mostly because they are unique,
they are taken. We do not force anything. It’s just like there´s a
market and we fish, we sent the CDs. And as I said, it´s not that
they are very good, but they are unique. They are not better than
other Kenyan musicians, but they are unique.
And how do you choose the artists you promote?
I have been in the music industry for a long time. Just when
I hear a guy and I like the style, and I say “Wow, this sounds
good”. I won´t just go for a time-wasting thing. I mean, if you are
good and do hip-hop, then why should I promote you? Then go
to the States and become big if you want to become like this or
like Eminem, that´s okay. If you are good at something, that is
unique. Because what I talk about is not how good you are, it is
how unique you are. When somebody just comes here, maybe he
comes with a demo or something like that, and you want to hear
the uniqueness.
How do you get the uniqueness as an artist?
By being yourself. By sticking to your roots. Why, in fact, the
whole world would like to sing like an American, while there are
so many Americans who are doing it there. The competition is just
too big. But you will see, like the West Africans, what they are doing. They do their choral style. It´s different. Americans don´t sing
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like that. I´m just picking America, because they are the biggest
power within the Western world. Or, when you listen to music
from Congo. I don´t have to explain to anyone, that that´s Congolese music. They just have some elements that if you know African
music, if you take time to study and understand African music,
you´ll definitely know that this is Congolese music. It´s the same
with music from South Africa. You will definitely know this is South African music, whether it is hip-hop or not. Right now, they play
what they call house music, which is hip-hop. But it´s a different
kind of hip-hop, so different to American hip-hop. But in Kenya,
there´s too much confusion. We don´t have a proper identity. We
have an identity crisis. And that´s what I´m trying to work on.
It´s not that I´m trying to create anything, no, I just want to take
the old style and do it well. Take music which is good and I´m not
like that we must always play pure traditional African music with
drums ‘who who who’, half naked, no! We can even do rock but let
the rock be African-based. Our young artists are lazy that´s what
people saying. They don´t have the time to research. (...) There´s
such good music all over Kenya, or actually East Africa. We just
don´t look. The youth, most of them who meet around here, they
have to look beyond the borders. Because right now in Nigeria,
they have some interesting young kind of hip-hop. I don´t know
how they call it in Nigeria. Now, all the Kenyans want to sing like
that. What they don´t realize is that the Nigerians just took their
old Juju music with an old Afro-beat and made hip-hop. Our beats
are called Benga. Why can´t we make hip-hop out of Benga? It´s
laziness.
Look at a great guy, I don´t know if you know Ethiopian music? I like using him as an example, because I think he´s a good
guy. He´s called Mulatu Astatke. He had studied Jazz in Berklee,
American jazz. He´s an old man now. When he came back, he told
“No, I´m not doing American jazz now. I´m not going to do that
kind of jazz. I´m going to make Ethiopian music”, and it´s called
Ethno jazz now. And if you google Ethno jazz, it´s a big, big thing.
It´s jazz but it´s Ethiopian jazz. It´s so different from American
jazz.
You said that there´s no national identity, anymore, like an identity cri-
sis in between the Kenyans. What do you mean by that?
What I mean is that there´s no definite sound from the youth.
So when you hear it, you´ll say, “This is Kenyan sound”. Just because they maybe don´t recall African music. But if you knew
a lot of good African music, you would know what I´m talking
about. Like when you listen to Congolese music. Do you know the
Congo?
Yes
recording and also through videos. I think music videos are really big in
Kenya, aren’t they?
Yes, they are. But they are done really cheaply. Those are the
things I mean when I talk about production. There are several
recordings done here every day, but how is the quality? I always
think about the quality. These days, you can´t just have an audio
without a video. You need video. The people want to see what
they hear. But you need to put some effort in it. Like having someone write it, direct it or anything else, but at least something
It´s so obvious. You just know this is Congolese music. The
way they play. And it´s the same if you listen to South African music. It´s so different from Congolese music. And when you listen
to West African music (...) it´s so different. But there´s no East
African sound. Because we fail to develop our traditional music.
We fail to take it to another level. That´s what I´m saying. It´s not
that what I expect is us playing drums half naked, and really like
some crazy people in the forest. You can do that, too. But you can
take that music and make it very modern.
So you think that the secret about a unique sound is to take something
old and...
I don´t want to use the word ‘old’. Old could be any sound.
It´s to take something of your own. Your sounds that were there
and take them to another level. It´s uniquely yours. Just like you
are uniquely you. That´s what it is.
Probably a thing, a problem that we have in most parts of Africa or in East Africa, maybe you have it in Germany and France too,
is that the world, everybody, wants to become American. And if
everybody wants to become American, we´ll always play second
field. We cannot beat Americans in their own game. American
hip-hop – it´s their culture, you see. It´s okay. Let´s do hip-hop,
but let´s do it in our own terms, in our own way. Look at Indian
music, it´s quite modern, but you will know that this is Indian
music. When you listen to Ra´i music from the Arabs. It´s not old,
it´s new but it is still theirs. That´s what I´m trying to talk about.
And we have a lack of that here.
One last question I’d like to ask. You said you promote them through
that is good. Not just some cheap things like a lady appearing half
naked. I think that´s cheap. You should do more than that. I mean
not just selling porno around here. I think that´s all crap. It´s a
very easy way out of doing things. I repeat myself here, I don´t
hate hip-hop. I just don´t like guys who use hip-hop as an easy
way out of music. Because it´s so difficult to play the guitar, an
The
Kenyan Boys Choir
137
instrument. It´s so difficult to sing. So you use hip-hop as an easy
way out. That´s not correct. And you know the videos. Make good
videos. Don´t shoot me your bottom and stuff like that. When I´m
watching TV, I don´t see anything that makes me think artistic
about it. Just some women (...) For me, that´s not really what it is.
Would you like to add something in the end?
I have nothing to add. For me, it´s work in progress. I can´t
finish this topic we´re talking about. I´m sure, next time you come
around, I am talking about different things. Because we´re still
discovering ourselves. One thing I can say is that I think we´re
sending a picture of having a good unique East African sound. Because the sound is already there. The sounds are there in Kenya.
We play Benga, we play Momboko, we play Chakacha; those are
well-rooted, known sounds from Kenya. But what we have failed
at, is to take this sound from the past generation to the next. It´s
developing the sound. And for you to do that, you need people
who are very good artistically.
So where do you see the Kenyan music scene in the future?
We have a future. Because very soon, these young guys will
reach a dead end, a brick wall. Then they have to go back to their
roots. Because as we said, the world is now a state. Sorry, I mean
the world is a village. So when you travel a lot, when they travel
like all these young guys, these hip-hop guys, when they get the
opportunity to go to the States, then they see what hip-hop is out
there. They´ll come back here and say “This is not our thing, I
should do something different”. It´s all ignorance and a lack of
experience that´s making them do what they are doing. It´s a
process, and very soon, as they keep on travelling and seeing (...)
You know, when they see their video, they believe they sound
like that when actually they don´t. But when they go out there
and see that this is not their own thing, when they get that they
can´t mash up with them. Because you can´t, because that´s their
culture, no matter how good you are. Then they´ll also ask, “Hey
guys, this is not the American sound, I hear you are from Africa,
that´s beautiful, brother. Now show us something from Africa”.
Then they are trying to do exactly what has been done. I think
they look ridiculous.
Thanks a lot!
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GoDown Arts Centre
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Anna Lafrentz
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Ich habe mich gefragt, was Kunst in der Stadt für mich selbst
bedeutet. Dies sind einige Eindrücke, die Nairobi bei mir hinterlassen hat:
I asked myself what art in the city meant to me. These are the
impressions Nairobi left me with:
Das Organisieren von Arbeitsprozessen.
Das Arrangieren von Waren und Gütern.
Individuell gestaltete, zum Kunstwerk gemachte Matatus.
Die Bewegungen dieser im Verkehr.
Der Verkehr selbst und welche Bilder er zeichnet.
Wie sich die Menschen in ihm bewegen.
The organisation of the work process.
The arrangement of merchandise and goods.
Through individual creativity, Matatus become art.
Their flow through traffic.
Traffic itself and the images it draws.
People’s movements in it.
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Philipp Günther
Aspekte nairobianischer
Kunstproduktion
Issues of Nairobian Art-Production
Was ist Kunst? Wie wird Erfolg von Kunst gemessen? Ab welchem Punkt sehen Künstler*innen ihre Kunst als akzeptiert an?
Um diese Fragen drehte sich ein thematischer Komplex in unseren
Interviews mit Künstler*innen in Nairobi.
Mir fiel dabei auf, dass Kunst häufig zwei Ziele erfüllen soll,
die nur bedingt von Künstler*innen zusammengeführt werden
können: Zum einen muss Kunst es ermöglichen, dass der*die
Künstler*in davon leben kann. Zum anderen war es aber auch
ein Anliegen vieler Künstler*innen, ihre eigenen gesellschaftskritischen Botschaften zu verbreiten und damit gesellschaftliche Veränderung zu initiieren.
What is art? How can you measure the success of art? At
which point do artists see themselves as accepted? One topical
complex of our interviews with artists from Nairobi was revolving around these questions.
It was my impression that art should comply with two different aims which only could be brought together conditionally: On the one hand, art should enable the artist to subsist on
it. On the other hand, many artists wished to spread socially
critical messages within their art, and thus help initiate social
change.
Was ist Kunst?
Eine Eigenschaft von Kunst ist, dass sie sich schwer definitorisch greifen lässt. Nach passablen, allgemeingültigen Definitionen von „Kunst“ zu suchen, gestaltet sich mehr als schwierig. Das
liegt neben anderen Verhältnissen inner- und außerhalb der Kunst
auch daran, dass Kunst enorm dynamisch und ständigen Veränderungen unterlegen ist. Vielleicht ist sogar der ständige Prozess der
Veränderung eine der wenigen Konstanten der Kunst.1
Wenn allerdings versucht wird, einen Absatzmarkt zu finden,
wird das nicht-greifbare, dynamische der Kunst in sich verkehrt.
Um es verkaufen zu können, muss es greifbar sein. Es muss versucht werden, das Dargestellte so zu kontextualisieren, dass es
auf der Ebene der Sprache logischen Sinn ergibt. Es muss für Außenstehende möglich sein, das Kunstwerk zu verstehen und sich
mit ihm zu identifizieren. Nur das ermöglicht Anteilnahme und
letztlich liefert nur dieser Prozess Argumente ein Werk zu kaufen.
1 An dieser Stelle lässt sich auch die Frage anschließen, wer denn eigentlich
definiert, was Kunst ist? Und auch wie an verschiedenen Orten verschiedene
Akteure und Strukturen Kunst definieren?
142
What is Art?
One characteristic of art is that it is hard to grasp by definition. Looking for universal definitions of ‘art’ is more than difficult. This is, besides other circumstances inside and outside
of art, because art is dynamic in many ways, and is therefore
subject to constant changes. Perhaps this continuous process
of change is one of the few constants of art.1
But if any attempts are made to find a market for art, the
non-manifest and dynamic aspect becomes the contrary. Art
needs to be manifest to sell. The presented must be contextualized in such a way that it has a logical sense on the level of
speech and communication. It is necessary for outsiders to understand the art, and to identify with it. Only this enables sympathies, and finally, only this process creates incentives to buy
an artwork. With this strategy of production and reception, art
is affirmed to society and looses at least a part of its autonomy.
The Relation of Art and Society
1 Here it is possible to connect certain questions, e.g. Who defines what art is? And how do certain actors and structures define art in certain places?
Durch diese Produktions- und Rezeptionsstrategie wird die Kunst
an die Gesellschaft affirmiert und verliert wenigstens einen Teil
ihrer Autonomie.
Das Verhältnis von Kunst und Gesellschaft
Wenn dies nicht nur von Einzelnen geschieht, sondern ein
Strukturmerkmal von Kunst ist, verhält sich die Produktion von
Kunst kulturindustriell. Kunst wird dann strukturell warenförmig.
Nötig dafür ist u.a. ein vorhandener Absatzmarkt. In Zeiten der
zeitlichen und räumlichen Verdichtung und Überlagerung verschiedener Globalisierungen ist dafür kein nationaler oder anderweitig geografisch abgrenzbarer Absatzmarkt notwendig. Ein
Großteil der Kunst der Künstler*innen, die wir interviewten, wird,
nach deren Aussage, in den „globalen Norden“ verkauft. Und auch
in Kenia selbst sind ein bedeutender Teil der Käufer*innen Unternehmen oder Personen aus höheren gesellschaftlichen Schichten,
die die dafür notwendigen materiellen, sozialen und kulturellen
Ressourcen besitzen (diese sind also Teil des „globalen Nordens“
in Kenia).
Erst seit wenigen Jahren ändert sich das Verhältnis zwischen
Gesellschaft und Künstler*innen in Nairobi. Künstler*innen betonen die steigende gesellschaftliche Akzeptanz und die besseren
Arbeitsbedingungen. Doch trotzdem wird an vielen Stellen angemerkt, dass die meisten Menschen in Kenia sich lieber billige,
massengefertigte Reproduktionen kaufen, als sich „tatsächlich“ für
Kunst zu interessieren. Es scheint als schwingt der Vorwurf mit,
dass Leute lieber weniger Geld für Kunst ausgeben wollen. Dieser
Vorwurf kann als Schatten der eigenen Positionierung und Perspektive als Künstler*in und Kunstproduzent*in in Nairobi interpretiert werden. Hier ist es für viele Menschen zunächst wichtig,
die alltäglichen Bedürfnisse zu befriedigen und sich erst danach
der Kunst zu widmen.
In den Gesprächen betonten nairobianische Künstler*innen, dass es in Kenia schwer sei, sich als Künstler*in zu
etablieren und genügend Geld für das eigene Leben zu verdienen.
Es sei wesentlich einfacher nach Europa zu gehen, einen kleinen
Preis für ein Werk zu bekommen und wieder zurück zu kommen,
als zu versuchen sich über die Arbeit in Kenia zu etablieren, sagt
If this process of affirmation is not just a phenomenon of a
few but a structural characteristic of art, then the production of
art is cultural-industrial. Art then structurally becomes a commodity, thus making a market necessary. In times of different
globalizations and therewith time and spatial agglomeration
and overlapping, a national or otherwise structured circumscribable market is not required. A majority of the art which
we have seen is, according to the artists, sold to the “Global
North”. And even in Kenya itself, a considerable part of the
consumers are companies or people from the upper class who
own the financial, social, and cultural resources.2
Only in recent years, the relation of society and artists in
Nairobi has changed. Artists emphasized the increase in
social acknowledgement and improved
working conditions.
Nevertheless,
in
many cases it was
noted that most of
the Kenyans prefer
to buy cheap, massproduced reproductions, than to be ‘actually’ interested in
art. It seems, as the
allegation goes, that
people would prefer to pay less money for art. This aspect
could be interpreted as the shadow of the position and perspective as an artist and art-producer in Nairobi. For most of
the people it is initially more important to match their daily
needs before devoting to art.
In conversations with Nairobian artists they emphasized
that it was very difficult to establish themselves as artists and
to earn enough money to make a living. It is significantly easier
to move to Europe, receive a small award, and move back to
2 Hence making them also part of the “Global North” in Kenya.
143
u.a. Joel Lukhovi (das Interview befindet sich in diesem Katalog).
Der Weg über Europa führe wesentlich einfacher zu Anerkennung,
Reputation und Akzeptanz in Nairobi bzw. Kenia.
Dieser Weg der Etablierung versinnbildlicht für mich zwei
sich ergänzende und sich gleichzeitig widersprechende Verhältnisse. Zum einen steht in diesem Moment der Weg nach „Europa“
symbolisch für ein Mehr an Freiheit, insofern die Abhängigkeit
von Auftragsarbeiten leben zu müssen und damit von bestimmten Personen oder Organisationen abhängig zu sein, überwunden
werden kann. Dafür wird ohne Wissen, wer am Ende das Werk
kaufen wird, für einen abstrakten Markt produziert. Teil dieser
Freiheit ist m.E. auch, dass es die relativ2 eigene Entscheidung ist,
nach Europa zu gehen, um anderen Einflüssen zu begegnen und
unter anderen Bedingungen zu arbeiten.
Allerdings spiegelt das gleichzeitig die strukturellen Fortschreibungen kapitalistischer und kolonialer Verhältnisse wieder.
Nicht alle können es sich leisten, in Europa einige Zeit zu verbringen und sich der Kunst zu widmen. Zum anderen verdeutlicht diese Situation, dass selbst kleinere Auszeichnungen aus Europa ein
höheres gesellschaftliches Prestige genießen, als Auszeichnung
aus Kenia (was symbolisch für das machtvolle Ungleichgewicht
zwischen dem „globalen Norden“ und dem „globalen Süden“ gelesen werden kann). Der „globale Norden“ fungiert – wenn auch
hier in einem kleineren Rahmen – als globale Norm, der es sich anzupassen oder anzugleichen gilt. Insofern stellt dieses Verhältnis
nicht nur ein Mehr an Freiheit dar, sondern im gleichen Moment
auch ein Mehr an Abhängigkeit.
Es wurde innerhalb der Gespräche an vielen Stellen klar, dass
sich bei der Produktion von Kunst an Strukturen und Standardisierungen von Kultur aus dem „globalen Norden“ gehalten wird bzw.
diese als Orientierung dienen. Reuben Mangi (das Interview befindet sich in diesem Katalog) betont beispielsweise, dass eine Aussage in einem Lied innerhalb von ungefähr drei Minuten zu fassen
sein sollte. Der Bezug auf drei Minuten entspricht für mich dabei
dem Verhältnis zur vorhandenen Hegemonie der Hörgewohnheiten
2 Relativ im Sinne der Einfügung und Fragestellung des eigenen Verhältnisses zur
gesellschaftlichen Situation in Kenia/ Nairobi, dem gesellschaftlichen Verhältnis
zu Europa und der Abhängigkeit des Absatzes der eigenen Kunst in Europa.
144
Kenya than to establish themselves in Kenya, as Joel Lukhovi
points out (see also the interview in this catalogue). The way
via Europe leads to appreciation, reputation, and acceptance
faster than it would be the case in Nairobi or Kenya.
For me, this specific way of becoming established as an
artist symbolizes two additional, and at the same time contradictory conditions. On the one hand, Europe symbolizes increased freedom, insofar as the dependence on commissioned
work and consequently the dependence on specific persons or
organizations can be overcome. The result is the production for
an abstract market without concrete knowledge about who is
going to buy the artwork. To me, a part of this freedom is also
that it is a relatively3 autonomous decision to move to Europe,
to get influenced by other impressions, and to work under different circumstances.
On the other hand, this reflects the structural consequences
of capitalist and post-colonial conditions, at the same time. Not
everyone is able to afford to stay in Europe and to devote time
to art. This situation also illustrates that even minor awards
from Europe have a higher social prestige than awards from
Kenyan institutions – this could be read as a symbol of the
strong imbalance of the “Global North” and the “Global South”.
The “Global North” acts, even though on a smaller scale, as the
universal norm which one has to adapt to or to conform with.
Insofar this relation does not just reflect increased freedom, but
also increased dependence.
Within a lot of talks it became clear that the production of
art keeps a lot of structures and standardizations of cultures
from the “Global North”, or that those at least serve as an influence to be guided by. Reuben Mangi (see also the interview in
this catalogue), for instance, emphasizes that the listener needs
to grasp the message of a song in about three minutes. In my
view, there is a consistent relation of this reference to three
minutes to the existing hegemony of listening habits in mainstream pop-music from the “Global North”. On the one hand,
3 “Relatively” in the sense of one‘s limited ability of changing or questioning
one’s position in Nairobi’s or Kenya’s society, the relation to European society, and the dependence on the sale of one’s art in Europe.
von Pop-Musik aus dem „globalen Norden“. Das bedeutet zum einen, dass sich die Fragen anschließen lassen, warum das Lied
nicht länger geht oder warum die Aussage der Länge des Liedes
angepasst werden soll? Aber es lässt auch den Schluss zu, dass es
notwendig ist, sich den Gewohnheiten der Konsument*innen anzupassen. Längere Stücke würden wahrscheinlich seltener gehört
werden und damit würde der Absatz der Musik fallen. Das heißt,
dass der transportierte Inhalt, die Aussage des Lieds, sich in dem
Verhältnis von Gewohnheit (zeitlicher Begrenzung) und dem, was
gesagt werden soll, befindet.
Authentizität
Auch dass der Assoziation von Kunst aus Kenia das neokoloniale Bild eines „authentischen Afrikas“ innewohnt, ist Ausdruck
dieses postkolonialen Verhältnisses. Die Kunstgegenstände auf
den – speziell für Tourist*innen aus dem „globalen Norden“ ausgerichteten – Kunstmärkten (sogenannte Maasai-Märkte) in Nairobi
gleichen diesem kolonialen Denken. Immer wiederkehrend wurde
in den Interviews auf den Kunstmärkten mit Produzent*innen und
Konsument*innen3 die „Authentizität“ betont, ebenso wie die „Farbenfreude“, das „Kreative“ bis schließlich zu dem „Afrikanischen“
an sich. Differenzierung findet darin keinen Platz.
Das Bild, das sich mir unablässig aufdrängt, ist, dass in Europa von Hochkultur – auch im Sinne von Abstraktheit – die Rede ist
und die Repräsentationen, die ständig reproduziert werden, die Natürlichkeit „afrikanischer“ Kultur und dementsprechend auch der
Kunst betonen. Das ist ein Grund, warum es für Künstler*innen in
und aus Nairobi schwer ist, anerkannt zu werden. Die Gleichung
‚Kunst in Nairobi gleich Kunst aus Afrika gleich Authentizität,
Natürlichkeit, Farbenfreude usw. geht in dem gesellschaftlich-urbanen Spannungsfeld in Nairobi nicht auf.
Über diese Imaginationen wird den Menschen in Nairobi
(oder meinetwegen auch in Afrika) ein kritisches Bewusstsein im
Verhältnis zu ihrer eigenen Umgebung abgesprochen. Darüber hi3 Wir haben uns dazu entschieden diese Interviews nicht zu veröffentlichen. Falls
jedoch aus wissenschaftlicher, persönlicher, künstlerischer oder anderer Motivation Bedarf nach den Interviews bestehen sollte, kann mit mir unter philipp@
sanaamtaani.org Kontakt aufgenommen werden.
that means that one could come up with questions like why a
song does not last longer or why the message of the song has
to adapt to the length of the song. But one could also conclude that it is necessary to adapt to the habits of consumers or
listeners. Songs that last longer would probably be heard less
often, and as a result sales would decrease. That means that
the transported content, the real message of the song, is arranged between the relation of the habit (the time limit) and the
message the song should deliver.
Authenticity
The neo-colonial association with the image of an ‘authentic Africa’ in Kenyan art expresses a post-colonial setting. The
artworks on several art markets in Nairobi (so called “MassaiMarkets”) – specifically focused on tourists from the “Global
North” – reflect this colonial way of thinking. In interviews
with producers and consumers4 on the art-markets, people frequently emphasized the “authenticity” as well as the “joy of
colour”, or the “creativity” up to the “African way” itself.
The story I am ceaselessly faced with is that in Europe,
people talk about high culture [Hochkultur] also in the sense
of abstractness. When talking about art and its representation
which is constantly reproduced, people emphasize the nativeness of ‘African’ culture and correspondingly art. This is a problem that makes it hard for artists in and from Nairobi to gain
appreciation. The equation that “art in Nairobi equals art from
Africa, equals authenticity, nativeness, and joy of colour” does
not fit the social-urban tensions in Nairobi.
Because of this image of nativeness, people from Nairobi (or maybe even from Africa in general) are denied a critical consciousness of their social environment and the ability
to express this through their artworks. Furthermore, they are
construing as a homogeneous group. The emphasis of the joyful, always-smiling, rural people in Africa glorifies and romanticizes conditions from the perspective of privileged inhabitants
4We decided not to publish these interviews in this catalogue. If you are interested in these interviews based on scientific, personal, artistic, or any other
motivation, feel free to contact me via philipp@sanaamtaani.org
145
naus werden sie als homogene Gruppe konstruiert. Die Betonung
der freudigen, immer lächelnden Landbewohner*innen in Afrika
verklärt und romantisiert Zustände aus der Perspektive privilegierter Bewohner*innen des „globalen Nordens“. Neben existierenden
materiellen Nöten, ist das Bild deshalb krass verzerrt, weil u.a. Realitäten, die sich in Großstädten befinden, verschwiegen werden.
Nicht alle Menschen, die auf dem afrikanischen Kontinent wohnen, sind gleichzeitig arm, betreiben auf dem Land Viehzucht o.ä.,
sondern die Gesellschaften sind ähnlich komplex und differenziert
ausgebildet wie in Westeuropa.
Doch wie ist meine eigene Positionierung in dem dargestellten Komplex? Kann ich die Künstler*innen dafür kritisieren, dass
sie Geld zum Leben durch ihre Kunst verdienen wollen? Kann
ich kritisieren, dass Menschen Güter herstellen, die koloniale Bilder reproduzieren, wo ich doch der strukturelle Nutznießer dieser
Verhältnisse bin? Was ist meine Aufgabe und welches Ziel verfolge ich, wenn ich diesen Artikel schreibe? Möchte ich einfach
meine Eindrücke schildern und analysieren? Oder habe ich doch
den moralischen Zeigefinger immer zwischen oder in den Zeilen
versteckt? Und schreibe ich damit tradierte Hierarchien zwischen
mir und „den Anderen“ fort?
of the “Global North”. Besides the actual existence of material
poverty, this image is blatantly distorted because it conceals
the genuine conditions in large towns. Not everyone who is
living on the African continent is poor, practices farming in
rural areas, etc. Societies are as complex and developed as in
Western Europe.
But how can I position myself in the outlined aspects? Is
it right to criticize artists, because they want to earn money to
subsist on their work? Can I criticize people producing goods
that reproduce colonial images when I am the one who is the
structural beneficiary of post-colonial circumstances? What is
my concern and which is the aim I pursue while I am writing
this article? Do I just want to describe and analyze my own
experiences? Or do I, still, hide my moral pointing finger within
and on these lines? And furthermore, do I uphold existing hierarchies between me and ‘the others’?
Market Hall 4
146
147
148
Interview with Shine Tani
Banana Hill Art Gallery
Interviewers: Isabella Schulz and Sabrina Loll
Would you like to introduce yourself and tell us something about Banana Hill Art Gallery...?
My name is Shine Tani. I´m the director of Banana Hill Art
Gallery and I´m an artist. I do contemporary paintings. I think I
have my own style which is acrobatic scene. It´s not really surrealistic, but it is an acrobat scene. It´s different from socialistic
realism. It´s a style which begun in the early 90s. I wanted to
do something else. My family is a family of acrobats, so I was an
acrobat before I began to paint. My family likes it, I like it... yeah.
Which role does the Banana Hill Art Gallery play in the art scene of Nairobi?
Well, the art market of Nairobi is known in Kenya. So, many
people start art groups just for production, but not for the market. So what we´re doing is supporting the market of African art
via the internet, by opening the gallery, by supporting especially
young artists.
Why do you speak about African art, not Kenyan art?
Well, it´s African art because it´s done by African artists. You
know, most of the things they are doing are about daily life. Daily
life how we see it. And, in fact, what you find in our paintings are
stories, they are full of stories. It´s like storytelling.
When you founded this place in the early 90s, what was the main idea?
At the beginning, we were not supported by the government
or the families. So if you have a talent, if you´re an artist and have
a talent, you have to develop your work to support yourself. When
I was beginning to paint, when I was beginning to get known,
I was lucky to be supported by the family. Just because I´m an
artist. But when you´re going out there, and nobody can help you,
Shine Tani: untitled
149
nobody can assist you in any way, then it´s hard. In 1992, I was
only known in the local art scene. But then the TV, the radio, and
the newspaper started to talk so much about me in Nairobi. When
other young artists and began to produce something, they didn´t
know where to go, or what to do, so they came to me, asking for
assistance. I could help them in a way to develop their art. That
was how it began, just like friends helping each other. Beginning
in a friendly way, coming together, sharing what we have done,
sharing the ideas, even criticising each other. It worked well for
some years until we began to see we´re growing up. We became
known, so you can sell your work for yourself and buy your own
material. That´s how we begin to see ourselves now: developed.
And we can help others in their development. But our main idea
until today was just to support one another.
Would you say something has changed in your way of working from the
beginning until now?
150
Completely. Yes. It has changed completely. The change was
caused at first by our people. You´re starting with one idea, but
other people have other ideas and it started to change.
So, when we began, we were so good and so friendly and
working together. But later in the years, some of our friends, some
of our artists began to become negative. There are so many of
ideas that we have today that most of the artists do not support.
We decided to let them work as they want. But then in a few years, the Banana Hill Art Studio was going down, was going to fall.
We had a big crisis, but we worked on our main idea of supporting
young artists and each other, and we came back as a gallery, the
Banana Hill Art Gallery. And now it´s better, and it´s good, and
it´s strong.
I just want to add one sentence: Four years ago, most of the
galleries have crossed down in the country. Being one of the old
galleries as an art centre, we have still survived. Just because of
staying loyal to our ideal, to what we have begun.
151
Rahab Shine
152
Banana Hill Art Gallery
Interview with Rahab Shine
Interviewers: Isabella Schulz and Sabrina Loll
Could you please introduce yourself.
My name is Rahab Jenbi, my artist name is Rahab Shine. That
is the way I sign my paintings. I´m the director of Banana Hill Art
Gallery, and also the owner, because it´s a family gallery. It´s my
and my husband’s gallery. The way we started the Banana Hill
Art Gallery was as Banana Hill Art Studio in 1992. We started as a
group of artists. At that time, my husband was teaching students
how to paint in our own home. He was buying material, telling
young artists what to do, and from his knowledge he started this
group. At the same time, he helped them to sell their paintings.
The group become famous and had different exhibitions, outside
the country. In Europe, for example in Germany. He won a price in
Germany for his art work, as well. After he came back, we moved
with our studio to this building It´s much bigger than our old art
studio. He continued teaching young artists, but we changed our
topic from an art studio to an art gallery. That was in 2004. We
decided to do so, because the students wanted to have their own
place for working, so they started their own studio. They were
painting there and brought their work here. That´s how we help
the young artists to work.
And what do you think about the gallery scene in Nairobi? We heard it
is not that easy to exist – but you have been doing it for quite a while
now!
Yes, it´s true. It´s very hard, because we need money to pay
the rent, to pay the bills, and sometimes it is hard even to sell a pi-
ece of painting. But as we have grown to a gallery, we have done
a lot. We are able to manage it, to pay the bills, and to pay the
artists. We decided to mix artists from the whole of Africa. Right
now, we have artists from Tanzania, Ruanda, Kongo, Uganda, Kenya... we have many artists. Because the customer who comes and
looks for the art would not only come for looking at my pieces. He
looks for what his heart is beating for.
Would you say – because you have a lot of experience with artists from
different countries – is there something special about Kenyan art?
For me, I can talk about African art. There is something that
African art has in common. It is very special, because it is very
hard to copy. What I have produced from my mind is out there; if
I sell it, I sell the whole lot of it. I cannot do it again.
Why is it like that?
It´s a gift. It´s a gift... I´m an artist and I know when I carry
that painting and put it on the canvas it is out. I cannot do it again.
It´s gone.
What do you think is special about this place, Banana?
We are still staying in Banana, because that is where our story
started... From the first day until today, ‘cause I got married and
moved to Banana in 1991. I can call it home. This is where I have
lived my life - as a mother as well as an artist. My focus is to have
my own place, my own home in Banana.
153
Isabella Schulz
154
Mein Nairobi
My Nairobi
Immer, wenn ich neu an einen Ort komme, entwickle ich
innerhalb kurzer Zeit irgendein Gefühl für diesen Ort. Das kann
von völliger Ablehnung bis zu komplett verliebt reichen. Aber
trotzdem fühle ich mich irgendwie verbunden mit dem Ort, an
dem ich bin.
Bei Nairobi war das nicht der Fall. Ich bin jetzt von Haus aus
kein besonderer Fan von Großstädten. Aber zu Nairobi konnte
ich irgendwie überhaupt keine Verbindung aufbauen. Für mich
war die Stadt einfach eine gesichtslose Großstadt, wie jede andere
auch auf der Welt.Vielleicht lag es daran, dass ich vorher schon
in einigen anderen ostafrikanischen Großstädten war und etwas
ganz anderes erwartet hatte. Vielleicht lag es auch einfach daran,
dass wir recht nah am CBD (Central Business District) unser Hotel
hatten. Mit Blick auf all die Glasfassaden-Hochhäuser mit ihren
Anzugträgern und Coffee Shops. Mit all den gehetzten Menschen,
die zu ihren Meetings eilen.
Wir hatten uns öfter einfach durch das Getümmel treiben
lassen, auch außerhalb des CBD. Natürlich hat mir das auch Spaß
gemacht, durch dieses Moloch an Menschen, Autos, Bussen und
Waren jeglicher Art zu schlendern. Einzutauchen in ein vermeintliches Chaos, dessen Ordnung sich dem ortsfremden Betrachter
nur schwer erschließt.
Im Gegensatz dazu waren natürlich die Künstlertreffpunkte,
wie Kuona Trust. Als ruhige, kreative Oasen liegen sie in einem
wilden Großstadtmeer, umtost von der Hektik des Alltags. Aber
auch dort konnte ich nicht wirklich zur Ruhe kommen. Immer
hatte ich das Gefühl, an diesen, doch sehr behüteten Orten, etwas
Whenever I come to a new place, I somehow connect with
it, no matter if there are good or bad feelings. Some places I
love; some places I hate, but there is always a connection.
But not with Nairobi. When I was there it just felt like any
other faceless large city in the world. Perhaps it is because
I have been visiting some East African cities before and expected something different. Or it is because we were living
very close to the CBD (Central Business District) with all its
glazed skyscrapers and suits visiting coffee shops.
Sometimes we just drifted through the chaotic turmoil of
the city outside the CBD. And of course it was a lot of fun,
wandering through the excursions of people, cars, buses, and
goods. To dive into an alleged chaos with an order that is hard
to figure out for a stranger.
In contrast to these chaotic impressions, there were the
art centres like Kuona Trust. They are green, creative oases
surrounded by the hustle and bustle of an urban jungle. But
even there I could not relax entirely; being continuously afraid
of missing out something important that was going on in the
outside world.
All in all, these ten days were very restless for me. It certainly was fun to explore an unfamiliar city with a task at hand;
giving the whole visit some structure. Nevertheless, I could not
really get connected with Nairobi, although I would not like to
miss this visit. I love to return some day to this city. Perhaps
then, with a lot more time, I should stay a bit more out of town,
I think. Hopefully, I will then manage to connect with the city.
Wichtiges zu verpassen.
Insgesamt waren diese 10 Tage Nairobi für mich sehr rastlos.
Es hat mir viel Spaß gemacht, mit einem Arbeitsauftrag eine unbekannte Stadt zu erforschen. Das hat alles auch ein bisschen strukturiert, weil man mit einem bestimmten Filter im Blick durch die
Straßen läuft. Dennoch habe ich nicht wirklich einen Draht zu dieser Stadt gefunden, auch wenn ich die Tage dort doch nicht missen
will. Gerne würde ich noch einmal zurückkommen nach Nairobi.
Mit mehr Zeit im Gepäck. Und vielleicht etwas außerhalb wohnen.
Vielleicht gelingt es mir dann, eine Verbindung zu dieser Stadt aufzubauen, was mir dieses mal überhaupt nicht gelungen ist.
Spray Uzi:
Kijabe Street
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gegenüberliegende Seite:
Pambazuka
Joel Lukhovi
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gegenüberliegende Seite:
Asubuhi Mapema
Joel Lukhovi
lives in Nairobi. Besides studying literature, he is a passionate,
self-taught contemporary photographer. We met him at “Kuona
Trust – Centre for visual Arts”.
Interviewer: Philipp Günther
Since when are you practicing photography?
I started photography six years ago, but I have been practicing the art for four years now, since I left engineering-school. My
journey into photography began simply by generating an interest
in expressive art and light. I have been working to develop the
art to this very moment. There is a sense of responsibility in my
work, together with consciousness. I want to show the public the
changing situation in Africa and the kind of stories that can be generated from here. That has always been my intention every time
I study and practice art. Every day, I feel I learn something new
about my people and environment by deciphering hidden lines
and using my travels and experiences through photography. While
I practice, I study new techniques of the art.
Are you able to live on photography?
Yes, I comfortably live on photography since it is changing
right now. It is not entirely what it was a few years ago. Artists
struggled to make a decent living out of art, but now it is changing
to the better. I support myself through photography. Basically, it
is being able to establish your trade as an artist and that is what I
have been doing over the past years. I try to understand the world
I am living in from an African point of view.
I heard that people here are not that interested in art. Has the audience
meanwhile changed in Nairobi or Kenya?
JL: Yes and no. It is true and untrue. The major challenge
with art in Kenya has been ignorance from the general public, but
perceptions in Nairobi about art are now changing due to increased knowledge. The problem with art in Kenya is due to the fact
that the government has not put enough support and resources
on art-related courses. During my time in high school, we had art
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Lake of Illusion
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courses; unfortunately, they were scrapped off from the syllabus
to pave way for science-related courses. Eventually as we were
growing up, the mind of the people changed with the desire of
doing better in a science-course than doing an art-course. But a
few opted to do art.
Reason as to why people do not buy art is their perception
that art is expensive or rather not a necessity for certain people.
Fortunately, a lot of cooperates and organizations have ventured
into art this year. This is because of the fact that the industry is
growing. Presently, we are getting a lot of support from companies, embassies, and a number of individuals. So probably in the
next two or three years, more people will buy art out of interest.
What is going on besides buying art? Are people at least interested?
maisha mapya
Am I allowed to say, it is pure ignorance? People really don‘t
want to find out what is available. Someone walks into a store and
collects a cheap piece of art or travels to China and gets something
going by the name “art”. They believe that art is expensive and
therefore, they try to get something cheaper than that. Looking at
it from a collector’s point of view, I don‘t believe art is expensive.
A number of factors come about to make that particular piece of
art get its worth.
Why is that? Is it just because of education?
I think it‘s because of education. And based on what I am doing
right now – I am studying literature – I would say the issue that
effected how people respond to art is the aspect of colonization. People from here look at art from the European point of view, but that’s
not the case. Most of the African culture was swept and kept under
the carpet for almost a century. Eventually, most of the Kenyans and
Africans adopted the Western way of living and forgot their roots
and culture.
Forgetting to remember one’s culture and way of life is compared to knowing nothing in the African traditions. We talk much
about ‘successful integration’, mostly in the terms of how much immigrants take on traditions and rules of their new home country. Or
rather how ‘unsuccessful’ the integration is? Initially, people in Africa used to paint and scrub on rocks, caves, and leather. They used to
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perform all this as a form of art and place the pieces in their homes.
Eventually, because of ‘development’ and colonization, people
were blinded into accepting other foreign ways of living and not
really understanding their very own ways. Is it better to study
your culture and traditions from your point of view or from another
point of view? Basically, these are some of the ways that have
affected people to respond this way to art. It’s a lack of education.
What is your motivation to practice and study art?
My main motivation of doing art is getting the identity of people. This is why I am doing photography; getting to understand
people and getting to know the bases of where they are. Like
what is the liberating feeling about them? The whole thing of
moving forward is what motivates me to do photography. Photography is a powerful tool and I do feel that I have a task to fulfil
as a photographer. Sometimes, situations that cannot be explained
can be shown.
Also in a way to get to know people, how they feel?
In a way of getting to know how people are, what people
are, what the future holds for them, how are they looking at the
world. Is it just based on where they are or somewhere else? It‘s a
matter of looking at the spheres and identities of people and their
environment.
Then, how are people?
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5 peace train series 2
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People are different and have varying thoughts. I have been
fortunate enough to move in the Eastern African region and study
different cultures within. What I have been able to learn is that
people have their own unique way of thinking, but the arrangement is somehow similar.
I remember when I was in Kampala and I stood on top of one
of the seven hills that make the city and looked across. Kampala is
a mix-up that has a beautiful landscape with all the colours. Everyone and everything stops here and there. A friend of mine told me
that this city is disorganized and it does not have a proper planning like Nairobi. I somehow agree, but in my case, I really love
it that way. The whole interaction and movement of people on bi-
cycles and motorbikes literally forms a piece of art that is unique.
And that is basic life for the residents. Different places are able
to inspire and give me different thoughts about how people and
spaces are. It opens my eyes to look at how the world is made.
Who is buying your art? Are these mainly Europeans or Africans?
Both Europeans and Africans buy my artwork. A certain type
of people, who have a keen taste to the kind of photography I do,
get to purchase my works. I would say many people around the
continent feel my images. I am able to sell in almost all of the five
continents. I have noticed recently that many Kenyans and Ugandans are now buying my art.
How does it make you feel? What does it do to you that locals buy less
art? Is it linked to an acceptance about what you are doing?
If I leave Nairobi and probably go to Europe or America and
do my work there, I get reputation for something small that I have
done and then get an award and recognition. Once one moves
here, it feels like you have established your reputation. It’s the
doubt that people put on you as an artist. But if you are doing
your stuff for a long period of time, there won‘t be any notice of
what you are doing. So for the African artists, and probably for the
Kenyan as well, you have to struggle a lot to get that recognition.
If you are able to work with people locally and become fortunate to join foreign organizations, then you get promoted and start
to rise. Most of the successful artists have had to travel out, got
recognition for their work and then came back home. That is how
one gets to progress here. That is the struggle for the Kenyan and
African artist.
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Ross Franks
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Interview with Ross Franks
Ross Franks is the art director of XYZ-Show, and thus, he is responsible for designing the show’s main characters. The show
runs on Kenyan TV at one of the better time slots, and deals with
developments within Kenya’s political landscape in a humoristic
way. We talked to Ross in his studio at GoDown Arts Centre.
Interviewers: Nadine Lorenz and Michau Kühn
Ross, could you briefly introduce yourself, please?
Maybe you want to talk about what exactly it is you are doing here?
My name is Ross Franks. Originally, I come from Australia,
but I have lived in Germany for about twenty years. There, I had
worked on „Hurra Deutschland!“, a show that was broadcasted by
German TV-station ARD from 1989 to 91. The show was mainly
political satire carried out by human-sized puppets.
I have been working as the manager of a puppet workshop,
and also as the art director. That means I survey what happens in
the workshop and how the puppets are made. After that, I have a
look at what happens at and around the set; so I basically do the
whole art direction for Buni Media.
And how did you come to Nairobi?
What kind of a show is it?
I came across a report on the BBC, showing that there was a
show involving human-sized puppets here, just like the one I did
in Germany. So I thought to myself: „Go ask them if they need
somebody“, and now I have been here for two years.
It’s a TV-show called ‘The XYZ-Show’, and it is mainly political
satire dealing with Kenya’s politics.
Then let me anticipate a little bit, here. Why did you stay in Nairobi?
First, I did a workshop for them. Then, they asked me if I
wanted to work for them full time. I also like the country, I already
know the work, and I also wanted to help develop the company.
And what can you say about the city?
Nairobi is as chaotic as it is beautiful.
Nadine keeps describing it as a love-hate relationship.
(Nadine: Many people say that.)
But it somehow seems easy to live here compared to Germany – it is stress-free when you look at everyday life.
Funny, I wouldn’t have put it that way. I think everyday life here is very
stressful.
[laughs] The good thing is, there are no post boxes, you receive no invoices.
Who is responsible for the content?
There is a wide range of topics dealt with by writers and
scribblers who write the skits for us. The show is about 30 minutes long and airs twice a year for 13 consecutive weeks on every
Sunday. And because the characters are well-known politicians,
there are voice artists who present the texts. We record all that
on tape, and then carry out the puppet show to a playback of the
recordings.
Who are your viewers?
Almost the whole country of Kenya. It airs also in Uganda and
Tanzania.
In which language?
It’s a mix of English and Kiswahili with English subtitles.
Which political meaning does the show have in Kenya?
As a satire, it has of course a very strong impact. The people
like it. A lot of things happen in Africa and also in Kenya. As a
foreigner, it is sometimes hard to understand how a lot of these
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things developed. I think it is positive that we give the people a
general understanding in a humorous way.
Is it a goal of the show to inform people?
Generally speaking, yes.
And what else?
What else? I think that is a lot. It is important to make it clear
to the people that it’s not only about what politicians do, but that
they, the people, are responsible for politicians to take office. The
people have to open their eyes: You voted for them, now have a
look at what they are doing.
Do you only work on the show or do you make art in your private time,
as well?
I used to do that. Unfortunately, it is impossible for me here,
because this is a very demanding full time job. During the shooting, a normal working day has about 13-15 hours, and we do that
13-14 weeks in a row. Additionally, I started a children’s show
which also takes a lot of time to prepare. In my position with responsibility for two or three divisions, there is not a lot of time left
for my private life.
Because auf the show and GoDown Arts Centre, I assume you also work
a lot with other artists?
Yes, also because of the place. Here at GoDown Centre, there
are a lot of studios, sculptors, painters, and other people affiliated
to television.
How do you personally assess art and the art scene in Nairobi?
That depends on what you want to compare it with.
Try not to compare it with anything.
When you have an artistic background, you automatically
start comparing. I have studied back in Australia, my country of
birth. Afterwards, I continued my studies in Germany. Compared
to the whole of Europe, this here is a very small circle. You cannot
compare it to the familiar European point of view, because what
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you expect of sculpting or painting in the European sense does
not belong to African culture. That is something very new to the
African continent.
How do you assess the people’s reaction to art that is made here at Godown Centre?
Most people, I think, do not have any relation to it. They did
not grow up with it. Unlike Europe, there is no artistic background,
no cultural points of reference. There is no architecture, no philosophy, no sculpting – nothing of the fine arts that are well-known
in Europe. There is a different construction here.
Yes, but there is art.
Yes, but different art.
How do the people continue this art in your opinion?
Unfortunately, less and less I think. But we have to consider
that the population is relatively poor. The art that people make
is something they want or have to sell in order to survive. There
is no form of support. It is somewhat more luxurious in Germany
or Europe. When push comes to shove, you can go to the social
welfare office and they will pay your rent, electricity, and all that.
Here it is nothing like that. You immediately have to live on the
streets or with your family, and they will tell you “Ok, you have to
work. You cannot paint the whole day long”. That is not possible
here, because there is no independence like in Germany or Europe. Although people complain about being dependent on social
welfare, they still are independent enough to be creative. There
are sponsorships for the art, artist colonies – a whole structure
that is nonexistent here.
Where do you see the future of art in Nairobi?
It will take after Western ideals, but that will take relatively
long.
What do you mean by “Western ideals”?
The structure of galleries, an informed society appreciating
art. Think about it: There have been a lot of cinemas here. 10-20
cinemas in Nairobi. Now there are only three or four left. You can
buy a DVD for 50 cents; going to the cinema costs 4 Euros. So the
people say “Ok, I buy a DVD and watch it at home instead of going
to the cinema”. Cinemas are nearly extinct because of that. I really
like going to the cinema, but I sit there with only ten other people,
sometimes even alone. And these are only blockbusters. They do
not even show small films. Alternative cinemas like in Germany do
not even exist here.
Last weekend, we have been to Kuona Trust. I had the feeling that there
was an optimistic atmosphere regarding the future.
That’s it. The whole country flourishes. Every year, the country grows by five to six per cent, and that usually drags the arts
along. People tend to have more money, their interest in art increases. That can only be a good thing.
Did I understand correctly that you think that the development of the
arts is associated with a growing income? I am not sure if everyone can
partake in that, or if the arts are rather something for the elite few.
Yeah. I think it has actually always been that way, in every
country. If you have no money, you cannot go to the museum. As
you know, it costs about 10-12 Euros to go to the museum in Germany. Ok, and there are a few people who say “I think that’s too
expensive. I cannot go to the museum with five kids”.
That’s the same thing with education. Interest in arts usually goes along
with education which in turn goes along with the income.
Money does not mean education. But with money you have
earned time to educate yourself. You need this space. When I look
at the slums, what do the people there need a Picasso painting
for? These people will not go to the museum to have a look at it,
they have completely different problems.
Do you have any closing words?
Difficult. When you come from Europe – or in my case Australia, white middle class – then you are surprised at first: Where am
I? You can spend your whole time in all the beautiful places that
you don’t have in Europe. Then you are amazed by that. And if
you come to other areas like Eastleigh, where many Somalis live,
even the locals will tell you not to go there because it’s dangerous.
There is a wide bandwidth of how you can or how you have to
live. That coins you and gives you a whole different approach to
think about your life and other people’s lives. Especially if you
come from Germany where everything is very much looked after.
There are a lot of people who are dissatisfied but they don’t know
how hard life can be.
How do you personally deal with this ambivalence?
You cannot help the whole world. But I think you can concentrate on a few people that you know well. You try to help them
as best as you can. That doesn’t mean money, but the knowledge
you have gained by being lucky enough to grow up in a Western
country. You were lucky to be educated.
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Stefanie Habben
Im Dunst einer Stadt
The Dust of the City
Nairobi im Film (AT)
Nairobi in film
Was ist eine Metropole für mich, was macht sie aus? Die Menschen, die dort leben und arbeiten; die Gebäude und Architektur;
die besonderen Orte, die man erst findet, wenn man die überlaufenen Straßen verlässt. Oder sind es die kulturellen Ereignisse,
die sie mir bietet oder der Reiz des Unbekannten, dem ich mich
aussetze?
In meinem Kopf sammeln sich Bilder von Städten, die ich noch
nie besucht habe. Es sind Erfahrungsberichte von Freunden, Fotos und vor allem Filme, die ich gesehen habe. Dabei ist es egal,
ob dies dokumentarische oder fiktionale Filme sind. Diese unterschiedlichen Eindrücke vermischen sich mit meinen Erwartungen
und Vorstellungen.
Wir haben die Möglichkeit überall hin zu reisen, dafür reicht
es ins Kino zu fahren und sich vor der Leinwand niederzulassen wir leben für rund neunzig Minuten im Jetset.
Dabei haben sich im Laufe des letzten Jahrhunderts gewisse
Leitmotive für den Stadt-Film entwickelt, die sich immer wieder
mit der Zeit wandeln. So ist New York ein Pool aus Lifestyle, Sex
und Karrieresprungbrett sowie Paris die Stadt der Liebe, Mode
und Intrigen. Viele Städte, viele Filme; jedoch treten einige sel-
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What does metropolis mean, what does it represent to me?
Is it about the people who live and work there, the buildings
and the architecture, little spotlights you will find when you leave
the crowded streets? Or is metropolis represented by the cultural
and international events that I am exposed to? I have pictures
of cities in my mind; cities I have never been to before. These
pictures were made out of my friends’ experiences, photos, and
particularly, films. I have seen those films – fictional or documentary – which have created mental ideas of cities in my mind. These
impressions mingle with my real anticipations and imaginations.
We have the possibility to travel anywhere we want. We just
have to go to the cinema and take a seat in front of the screen, and
for ninety minutes we immerse in the artificial jet set of a film. Sin-
ce the last century, a leitmotif of city-movies has been developed,
and this still ongoing process depends on society and culture: While New York has always been a place of sex, career and lifestyle;
Paris, on the other hand, is a place of love, fashion, and a network
of intrigues. Many metropolises, many films, and thousands of different stories have already been told. All these stories show us the
tener in den Vordergrund als andere. Die Städte werden uns vorgeführt, was sie für uns sein können und was nicht.
Doch was macht Städte im Film so reizvoll? In den Geschichten erfahren die Figuren die Städte oftmals als Hürdenlauf, es gibt
viele Hindernisse, tausend Möglichkeiten zu scheitern und zu gewinnen. Die Figuren sehen sich mit kleinen und großen Problemen
und Aufgaben konfrontiert, diese ballen sich auf kleinem Raum
und mit lautem Ton: wenn du es hier schaffst, dann schaffst du
es überall.
Eine Stadt, die seltener filmischer Schauplatz war, ist Nairobi,
die Hauptstadt Kenias. Die Metropole trat bisher hauptsächlich in
europäischen und US-amerikanischen Produktionen als exotisches
Abenteuer von weißen Reisenden in Erscheinung. Seit einigen
Jahren stellt sich die Stadt jedoch filmisch selbst auf: In den zwei
Filmen SOUL BOY (2010) und NAIROBI HALF LIFE (2013) werden
ebenfalls Bilder der Stadt gezeichnet, wobei sie in ihren Geschichten vollkommen unterschiedlich gelesen werden können.
SOUL BOY (2010) von der Regisseurin Hawa Essuman: Der
14-Jährige Junge Abila lebt mit seiner Familie in Kibera, einem
Slum im Südwesten der Stadt Nairobi. Eines Morgens findet er
seinen Vater vollkommen verstört und verändert vor. Von einem
Mann in seiner Nachbarschaft erfährt er, dass sein Vater in der
vergangenen Nacht bei einer Geisterfrau gewesen ist, die ihm aus
Hass gegenüber Männern die Seele gestohlen haben soll. Zusammen mit seiner Freundin Shiku macht er sich auf die Suche nach
der Geisterfrau, um seinen Vater zu retten. Als er die Frau in einer
dunklen Ecke des Slums findet, stellt diese ihm sieben Aufgaben,
die er innerhalb von 24 Stunden lösen muss, sonst ist die Seele
possibilities and the impossibilities of life. Characters in film often
perceive the cities as hurdle races with lots of obstacles to overcome, many opportunities that can be seized, and many chances
that can be missed. For the figures, these problems focus on very
little space and clash into them – if you can make it here, you can
make it anywhere!
Like New York and Paris, there are some cities that are quite
appealing to the audiences. On the other hand, there are some cities that are quite seldom used for stories and films – why is that?
One of the cities that are not often used for stories is Nairobi,
the capital of Kenya. If it were the setting of a film, it would most
probably be used with the aim to show exotic adventures of rich
white people in European or American film productions. For a few
years, Nairobi has generated two films: Both SOUL BOY (2010) and
NAIROBI HALF LIFE (2013) create emotional pictures, albeit they
tell totally different stories, and can be interpreted in different
ways.
SOUL BOY, by director Hawa Essuman, tells the story of fourteen-year-old Abila who lives in Kibera – a slum district in the
southwest of Nairobi – with his family. One morning, the boy finds
his father excited and confused. A neighbour tells Abila that his father spent the night at the place of a witch who bedevilled him by
stealing his soul because of her aversion to men. The young boy
decides to help his father and goes to the witch. Although he has
no idea where the woman lives, his friend Shiku offers her help to
find her mysterious hideout. Together, they find their way into the
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seines Vaters und ebenso das Leben von Abila verwirkt. So treibt
er durch seine Stadt, auf der Suche nach Antworten auf Fragen,
die ihm vor allem das Leben selbst stellt.
Sieben Aufgaben, für die es scheinbar viele Antworten und
Lösungen gibt, aber nur wenige führen zu einer tieferen Erkenntnis, aus denen man für das Leben lernt: Ein Taschendieb steckt
Abila sein Diebesgut zu, um seinen Verfolgern zu entkommen. In
der Folge muss sich der Junge entscheiden, ob er das Diebesgut
zurück zu seinem Besitzer bringt oder es verkauft, um die Schulden seines Vaters zu begleichen. Die Stadt besteht aus Abhängigkeiten, die nicht klar zu erkennen sind, aber überall wirken.
Der Junge Abila aus Kibera in Nairobi, einem Ort mit vielen
sozialen und kulturellen Sackgassen, findet Antworten auf Fragen, die er sich zunächst nicht
gestellt hat: Was für ein Leben
möchte er als Mann in Nairobi
führen, wie will er sich seinen
Freunden und seiner Familie gegenüber verhalten, wo
möchte er in der Gesellschaft
seinen Platz suchen und finden? Die Stadt ist kunterbunt und gibt so viele Möglichkeiten,
wie ein Leben verlaufen könnte. Jeder Mann und jede Frau trägt
die Verantwortung sich zu entscheiden und dabei zu bedenken,
welche Folgen das nicht nur für einen selbst, sondern für alle hat.
In dem Film NAIROBI HALF LIFE (2012) von Tosh Gitonga
treibt ebenfalls eine Figur durch Nairobi. Voller Tatendrang kommt
der junge Mwas in die Hauptstadt Kenias, um dort sein Glück als
Schauspieler zu suchen. Doch gleich zu Beginn seiner Ankunft zerschlägt sich zunächst diese Hoffnung: Mwas wird mitten auf der
Straße von einer Gruppe Männer überfallen und komplett ausgeraubt. Ohne finanzielle Mittel gerät er bald selbst in einen Strudel
der Kriminalität; wird Mitglied einer Gang, überfällt Autos und
raubt die Fahrer aus.
Sein Dasein als Dieb fristet der junge Mann allerdings nur in
Teilzeit. Wenn er nicht mit seiner Gang durch die Straßen zieht,
versucht er mit einer Schauspielgruppe ein Stück einzustudieren
und somit seiner Karriere als Schauspieler ein wenig auf die Sprün-
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darkest shadows of Kibera where the witch tells Abila that she
will keep his father’s soul if he fails to solve seven tasks within 24
hours. Otherwise, the soul and life of his father, and also the life
of Abila would be forfeited – the boy agrees on this devilish deal.
Hence, he chases through his district and city on a quest for
the right answers to the issues of life itself. Abila realizes that
there is not just one right or wrong answer to all these questions
of life. However, he gains insight on improved social cooperation
and a new perception of life: A pickpocket assiduously delivers the
stolen stuff to Abila and the boy thinks of either selling it in order
to pay his father’s bills, or bringing it back to its rightful owner.
The boy becomes aware of the fact that the metropolis he lives in
is a chain of dependencies, and everyone is a part of it.
The boy from Kibera, Nairobi, a place full of cultural impasses,
finds answers to questions he has never asked himself before:
Which way of life is he going to follow? How does he want to behave towards his family and friends? Where exactly will his place
in Nairobi be? The city is colourfully painted and full of hints of
how life can or cannot be. Every human being has to make decisions, and thus, has to envisage the different consequences for
everyone else.
In Tosh Gitonga’s film NAIROBI HALF LIFE (2013) also depicts a character on the move through Nairobi. Cheerful Mwas, a
young man from the rural Kenyan landscape, comes to Nairobi to
become a successful actor. After his arrival in the capital, all his
hopes are destroyed as he becomes the victim of a robbery in the
middle of the street in broad daylight. Without any funds, Mwas
gets caught up in the criminal maelstrom of Nairobi. He starts
ge zu helfen. Die beiden Leben laufen zeitweise nebeneinander
her, allerdings muss Mwas feststellen, dass sich die beiden Leben
nie kreuzen sollten.
Ist dies eine Geschichte der Hoffnung für junge Menschen in
der Stadt? Wie definiert sich die Stadt am Ende, als Mwas doch
auf der Bühne steht, aber begreift, dass alles anders gekommen
ist? Dass er nicht, wie in den Proben eines Stückes, Szenen wiederholen kann; dass das Leben keineswegs einstudiert ist? Wie
viele Chancen bekommt man von der Metropole Nairobi? Die Ideale und die Vorstellungen mit denen Mwas nach Nairobi kommt,
rücken die Stadt in einen zwielichtiges Bild: Chancen und Möglichkeiten – ja, die gibt es; aber Wege, die einen dort ehrlich hinführen? Alle Figuren scheinen an einem Punkt stecken zu bleiben, der
lediglich ein Zwischenstopp in ihrem Leben sein sollte: Die Prostituierte, die lieber wieder zur Schule gehen möchte, um Kosmetikerin zu werden, aber ihren Vater aus Angst nicht um Hilfe bittet;
ein junger homosexueller Mann, der in andere Rollen schlüpfen
muss, um sich auszudrücken, da er sich auch im Alltag für die
Gesellschaft verstellt; und zu guter Letzt Mwas, der sich seine
Zukunft komplett anders ausgemalt hatte, aber von der Realität
eingeholt wurde. In einer Stadt wie Nairobi geht es darum Geld zu
verdienen – wie das passiert und ob die Menschen zufrieden mit
ihrem Leben sind, rückt dafür in den Hintergrund. Was bleibt den
Figuren? Alle zeigen sich noch in der Hoffnung, dass sie eines Tages das Leben führen, welches sie sich vorstellten. Für die Figuren
ein schweres Los, immer im gewünschten „Irgendwann“ glücklich
zu werden, erst recht, wenn sie das „Hier und jetzt“ einholt.
Zwei Filme, zwei Geschichten, eine Stadt: Die beiden Ge-
stealing car parts and hijacks cars for a greater economic success.
Still he is just a half-time gangster. When he is not on trips with his
gang members, Mwas rehearses a play with a little theatre group
in the central district of Nairobi to push his career as an actor. This
strenuous life goes on, but one day, Mwas realizes that these two
ways of life should never collide.
Is this a story of hope for young people in the metropolis? At
the end of the film, the protagonist stands on stage, but does he
really have the life he has always dreamed of? Staring into the
spotlight, Mwas relives the way that brought him his first success.
The young actor apprehends that life is not a game where you can
switch roles and rectify your failures. How many chances do you
get from Nairobi?
Like me, the young actor in NAIROBI HALF LIFE has a lot
of ideals and imaginations about the metropolis. He thought this
would be the place for his success – but perhaps he was wrong.
At the end of the film, Nairobi seems to be very dubious. All characters get stuck somewhere in a chapter that should just have
been a little stopover on their way to another dream of life: A
prostitute who would rather go back to school to become a beautician, a young homosexual who has to slip into another role to
express himself, and Mwas who feels gloomy about a future that
he fancied quite differently. The metropolis is economically motivating in every aspect, in any way that money flows legally or
illegally.
So what is left for the characters? There is just a bit of hope
left to keep them imagining on how to make it in the future, but
any time they think they will make it, they get overtaken by present
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schichten zeichnen ein Bild von Nairobi, in dem sich die Möglichkeiten
entfalten und an vielen Stellen Entscheidungen getroffen werden müssen. Die Möglichkeiten sind keineswegs moralisch einwandfrei oder im
Sinne „richtig“ oder „falsch“ zu verstehen, doch darum scheint es beiden
Filmen auch nicht zu gehen. Die Geschichten fordern vielmehr, dass ein
Lebensweg eingeschlagen wird, egal welcher. Es wird in beiden Filmen
deutlich, dass die Entscheidungen der Figuren nicht immer zum Guten
führen müssen, aber auch nicht zum Schlechten. Die Veränderungen
erscheinen so marginal und nebensächlich, dass die Figuren sich dessen
selbst kaum bewusst sind. Nairobi erscheint in beiden Filmen als ein
Mikrokosmos, in dem sich die Dinge aufeinander zu und wieder weg
bewegen, alle einzelnen Individuen umkreisen einander, ziehen sich gegenseitig an oder stoßen sich ab. Zu Beginn stellte sich die Frage, worüber sich eine Metropole repräsentiert. Am Ende stellt sich die Frage,
was ist die Metropole für alle Menschen, die in und mit ihr leben? In
diesem Zyklus, dem kleinen Kosmos der Stadt sind es die kleinsten Elemente, die Entscheidungen treffen, die das Leben in der Stadt gestalten.
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events.
Two films, two stories, one city: Both films show an idea of what
Nairobi could or could not be. Both possibilities depend on the people
and how they make their life decisions in and with the metropolis. All
the possibilities and opportunities of the characters are not morally
faultless, or always correct – that is not the major topic of the two
films. Both stories claim that there will not be any decisions. The
characters are changed by the decisions they make, no matter if they
are good or bad. This process of change seems to be very marginal;
often, the outcome is not even noticed by themselves or society.
Nairobi appears to be a microcosm in which all the small and
massive elements approximate and depart again; all individuals orbit
each other.
In the beginning, I asked how the metropolis might be represented in different ways. The question is what these ways could mean to
different people. In this cycle, in this microcosm of the city, it means
the smallest elements that make decisions and alter the lives of all
people for the better.
Stills from the movies
„Nairobi Half Life“ and „Soul Boy“
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Sarika Lakhani
172
Interview with Sarika Lakhani
Interviewers: Stefanie Habben and Anna Lafrentz
Who are you and what is your profession?
Did you have a special moment where you decided to become
a producer?
My name is Sarika Lakhani and I am one of the producers at
One Fine Day Films. One Fine Day Films is a Berlin-based production company and a workshop initiative: Every year, we organize a
two weeks workshop for filmmakers from all over the African continent in seven dif-ferent disciplines. For directors, scriptwriters,
cinematographers, producers, production designers, sound designers, and editors. In every class, we have approximately five to
twelve participants. From those, we choose the people with whom
we make a feature film a couple of months later. So I produce
workshops and I produce films. I work together with my German
producers, our partner Deutsche Welle Akademie and our local
partners from Ginger Ink. That is who I am, pro-fessionally.
Special moments are little bit like an onion, when you try “Ok,
this is not it, and this is not it...”, and there is just one moment
where you realize “Oh, this is what I have should done!”. When I
was like eleven or twelve, I wanted to become an actress, then I
wanted to become a di-rector, and after that I wanted to become a
producer. You just do and you find out “That is nice, but I think the
other job is more interesting”. Just by reality and working I found
out. That is what I loved most, what chose me most.
What is your working live like here in Nairobi as a producer?
When I was a child, I spent a lot of my days in front of the TV.
I was really lucky, be-cause my parents were occupied with my
other siblings, they were just happy if one did not say anything.
Whether the weather was good or bad, I was always in front of
the television watching movies. I guess this is why I started in film.
Someone asked me 3 years ago, how working in Kenya changed
my perspective on my job. And ever since, I am trying to find a really smart answer and I still do not know. Because this is what I do,
this is what I know. I make movies here in East Africa with people
from all over the continent. I consider myself very lucky to be able
to do that, because it is a very rewarding and grateful job. It is very
motivating, often very hard, but on the other hand, it is also a very
special occupation. And I know, not many people have the joy of experiencing that in their life. For me, after five years now, it is my life.
Why did you choose to become a producer and not a film maker?
Could you give the readers an idea about the film business in East Africa?
For me, that is the same. A good producer has a feeling for
film and knows what is good for a film, or what is not good for a
film. And very often, it is necessary to know what a film is not, in
order to know what a film needs. You equally have a feeling for
the film, like the director, scriptwriter, production designer, or the
cinema photographer need to have. We need emotional correspondents, a connection. And we have a different job with that.
I just had another meeting and I spoke also to a German lady
about the Kenyan film industry. I am an outsider enough not to be
a member of the Kenyan film industry, really, but my perception
from the outside is that we, especially as Germans, like to catch
and to put in a cata-logue; we like to find a name and a number
for everything. We would like to have something like the Kenyan
film industry, and as much as we do, it does not exist. There is no
homogeneous group of people. There are a lot of people expressing
When did you have the first contact to film?
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what they feel, what drives them, and they have similar problems
and sometimes hitting similar hurdles. But different people do different things. Hawa works more internationally orientated, coming
from a creative perspective of arts. There are other filmmakers who
have a more commercial approach, who work for television, who
never want to travel to festivals because it is not interesting for
them. There are also different aspects of the industry: making commercials, TV-shows and series - and there is independent cinema
and independent cinema has documentary and feature films. What
do we want to include, when we speak about the Kenyan film
industry, and what do we want to exclude? It is really hard to say
that. The Kenyans have not even defined what a Kenyan film is.
Are you influenced by the city of Nairobi?
My story is a little bit different. I do not live in Nairobi, I spend
six month of the year in Nairobi. We commute actually between
Europe and Kenya. Being in Nairobi is like being in Ber-lin: I go to a
coffee place or to a supermarket; we drive around town and bump
into people. I go to a party, or I have lunch meetings or dinners
like I have in Berlin too. I am living in between too much in order
to be able to reflect from the outside what that is, to analyse it. So
the answer is ‘Yes’.
Yesterday, something strange happened to me. I saw the Nairobi cinema at the CBD, and we walked in, and there was a church, there was no
cinema. Where are the cinemas in Nai-robi, and where are the people
who go to the cinema?
That is an interesting question. Two years ago, during the
workshops here, we actually counted how many cinema screens
there are here in Kenya. There is no real comprehensive guide book
of how many films get theatrical distribution. ‚Soul Boy‘ is the first
film we produced, the second one was ‚Nairobi Half Life‘, and ‚Nairobi Half Life‘ was something we did not anticipate, it was a blockbuster. We never knew that this could actually happen, and we
were all completely astonished what it made happen. We produced
‚Something Necessary‘, which is an art-house film, and again, we
were completely astonished, what it could not make happen. It is
grassroots what we do, not only the film making process, also the
distribution process, be-cause there is no distribution here. When
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you are a filmmaker, you have to find your own ways of distribution. I think that is something facing filmmakers all over the world,
not only here in Kenya, but here is little understanding of “How do
I bring my movie to the local TV-stations, once I have made it?”.
The local TV-stations told us “Oh yes, thank you. We will screen
your film for free, you do not have to pay”. It is new for everybody;
the local TV-Stations also never had a movie like ‚Nairobi Half Life‘
or ‚Soul Boy‘. The participation of international financing is very
little, because simply for the fact that nobody knows what film
can do. Nobody acknowledges what the result of film can be on
different levels. How valuable it is culturally and commercially. If
‚Nairobi Half Life‘ is the first film which is even considered to be
nominated for the Oscar, the appreciation beyond that, the question of what does it mean, what can that do, what kind of outcome
does that have, there is almost no thinking like that.
Your three projects ‚Soul Boy‘, ‚Nairobi-Half Life‘, and ‚Something Necessary‘ had a lot of success outside of the African continent. Why is that?
They were not successful, commercially. To sell our movies is
very hard. On a festival level, they were very successful. My guess
is, they are made in a certain way; the sound is not bad and the
picture quality is good. We provide the African filmmakers with a
certain level of quality, infrastructure, and we also give them the
time to find the story. Hawa and Ng ́ethe were editing the movie
for almost a year, and who actually will ever allow you to work for
that long on an edit, even in Germany. The kind of liberty we have
for the project is unique. We do not have to report to anybody, why
we do these kinds of stories. There is a film at the end, but we
never get questions before production. I think the outcome speaks
for itself.
So that is the special thing about One Fine Day Films?
Yes, it is very special, because we could not work any different. If we had to report to somebody and if we had to wait for
somebody to approve the script and so on, we could not work. It
sounds a bit ridiculous, but we are going to shoot our next film in
November 2014. I have no script, no director, no actors, nothing.
If I was in Germany working as a normal producer, I would think
of myself that I was completely nuts. But I have done it four times
already; the fourth film is currently in postproduction. There is just
a very special model of filmmaking, which we come up with, it is
very unique.
Where does One Fine Day Films get the money from?
The first film ‚Soul Boy‘ is initially financed by Tom and Marie
themselves, the founders of the initiative. We got some postproduction funding by the Goteborg Film festival fund and the Hubert
Balls fund. We very quickly said we wanted to do that again, and
founded a little com-pany. We are several partners: One Fine Day
Films, Ginger Ink., and the Deutsche Welle Akademie. The majority of the money comes from German Federal Ministry for Economic Co-operation and Development, but we also get money from
a film fund of the Film- und Medien-stiftung Nordrhein-Westfalen,
the Goethe Institute Nairobi, and ARRI Film- & TV Services. We
have a budget, which is to a certain extend per film, because we
are not only a film production company, we are also a workshop
initiative and becoming more and more of a networking com-pany.
Do you personally feel that it is kind of German money in a „third world“
country?
Our projects are a little bit different from development aid
projects, because we are not an aid project. We are filmmakers,
we are not social workers. I studied film, Tom and Marie know
film - we are filmmakers. We come together with people from Europe who know about filmmaking. We know almost zero about the
dos and don’ts of development aid. We meet here as professional
filmmakers, how we come together is our purpose, and we work
from there.
I think it is absolutely fantastic that the German government
does something like that, they stipu-late and exchange. Yes, it is
German money in Africa but it is also an exchange: professionals
from Germany come here, and we take Kenyans, Egyptians, and
Nigerians to Germany and they get to know Germany on a different level and in a different way. It is a very unique way of meeting and our role as a cultural exchanger is becoming a little bit
bigger the more often we do it. Almost none of the film makers we
worked with have ever been to Europe before and we take them
on a tour to Germany through sixteen German cities, where they
can present their movies. The German audiences get to know a different Africa, too, which they have not anticipated before. The filmmakers we bring are also experiencing themselves in a new way,
because the beauty of travelling to another place is being reflected
in a different way and what it does to yourself and your thinking.
It is a great experience for both sides. This is wonderful and I
would much like to have more of our African filmmakers coming
to Germany, I would just love to show them, not because I want to
aid or support, but because they have a passion and they want to
get to know more, because this is something what interests them.
What is the first step of a film project and in which step do you finish it?
First, we look for a story and for a script-writer. Then, we look
for a mentor to team up with the scriptwriter, because our project
is a mentoring project. Together with the director and the mentor, we develop the script. We have a preproduction for several
weeks where we do all the necessary discussions. We shoot for
four weeks, then we have approximately a year of post-production:
First, there is editing, after the picture lock, when the editing process is finished, there is a sound design and a mixing and visual
effect have being done, after this, we complete the film.
Do you have some selection criteria for the story or for the crew?
We have some budget limitations, there are certain things we
cannot do, for example a purely action driven film, where you have
a car crash in every scene. We can not afford to finance that. So
budget-wise, we have some limitations, otherwise not really. We
get inspired by what we see; it is a little bit like putting puzzles
together, and see what could be a good fit.
Why Africa?
Because Marie started the initiative One Fine Day here in
Kenya, in particular. This is how the story came along, it is a genesis, it is an evolution. By accident, Tom and Marie found somebody
who, by accident, has roots here. I think it is a coincidence; it is a
historical ladder of coincidence.
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Hawa Essuman
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Interview with Hawa Essuman
Interviewers: Stefanie Habben and Anna Lafrentz
Could you please introduce yourself?
My name is Hawa Essuman and I am a filmmaker.
Where did you start?
I was interested in filmmaking, but more, I was interested in
showing and telling stories through a visual expression. My dad
told me a lot of stories and I liked these, because I could not find
them in any books. Those stories influenced me, and they got me
thinking about myself and about people, and how I relate to them.
But also, I wanted to tell them in a medium that has all the different forms of art media, because I love music, sound, and pictures.
There is a way film affects people. I am not saying that oration,
or reading, or just looking on their own do not do the same, but
there is something film does that these other mediums do not do.
When did you have your first contact to film? Can you remember a special moment?
When I was a child, I watched a lot of stuff; from the children
stories, to how things are made, to music videos. That was my
first interaction with film, and those wonderful things I watched
got me thinking about the story: splitting it up, seeing how a story
works. You realize that there is a pattern as you start to dissect it,
to think about it. I thought about these things and what the beginning of a story is, how things flow.
As much as I thought that the beginning and the last third of
the story were the most exciting and interesting part, my secret
favourite was always the part in the middle.
When did you decide to work in film?
In my twenties, I knew I wanted to tell stories. I was still thinking about how to do it. First, I thought making documentaries
would be the thing to do.
But there was something about fiction.
When you suspend reality, it makes things a lot more accessible. Your mind is just more open to things. You probably would
not engage with something as much if someone had told you this
is fact. If you tell someone “What if...”, they are more likely to fall
in to it. Documentary has very recently become a lot sexier, but it
is my feeling that there is a way when you tell someone something
is fictional, something is not real, or something is make believe,
that they will think about it more; and this is a really great way to
have people thinking about our world.
Would you describe yourself as a professional filmmaker?
I would.
So you can live off your jobs?
For the most part. I do voiceovers and consult on other projects for bread and butter. It is challenging, for sure; I don’t get
a pay check every month, so I become smart about managing
finances.
Do you think the film business is a male domain?
No, look at me. A few years ago, I would have said yes. But
if I look at all the filmmakers in Kenya at the moment, 80% or 90%
of them are women.
Why is that?
I don’t know...but there are more women.
Sarika: Women have the longer breath!
There is a temperament filmmaking requires, and women have
this: You have to be crazy and dedicated, you also have to extend
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to be passionate and a very good manager of people, even when
they’re driving you crazy. Women have managed a way to do that.
Is there a special relationship between you as a filmmaker and the city
of Nairobi?
Yes, because I feel like Nairobi is constantly at the beginning
of something. On the surface, Nairobi feels like a place for bankers
and for business people. It is very money-motivated. But it also
has a pulse, an artistic pulse that people are looking to express.
Despite being lawyers and accountants by day, they are also actors, musicians, painters and sculptors. They are looking for a way
to express themselves despite the undervalued nature of what art
is. I think without the art, without the need to express, Nairobi
would not be what it is.
Could you describe how the city influences you and your working process, maybe in themes, figures and settings, for example in ‘Soul Boy’?
It is all about Nairobi. It is about pushing comfort zones, about
understanding that you live beside wealth and extreme poverty all
at the same time, and you all have the same problems, whether
you look at it or not. It is about how the earth is so beautifully red
in some sections, and how it is black-cotton - grey and mucky in
another. But somehow, it all still seems to work. When the sun comes out, we all equally love it, when it rains we all become equally
crazy. We have a lot of common denominators, even though, it
feels very separate and divided.
Do you think film is a medium of identification?
I think it is a medium of expression. There are as many film
makers as there are people who watch film.
What about the locals of Nairobi and the Kenyan people? Do they identify themselves with film?
Yes, I think so. Our films would not count as our films if they
did not resonate with the world we live in. I think this is really
important for the work, to be able to be appreciated and to be
engaged with where it’s made. Maybe, people have said they do
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not like what is said about them, but they will never say this is
not them.
And what is the appreciation of your films by the locals of Nairobi like?
I think they are proud of it, and are glad that, finally, we are
showing our work and it is appreciated everywhere else. Even
though, we are really good at yelling and fighting each other or
we have terrible traffic manners, if someone does something, they
celebrate it. This is really wonderful.
Could you describe the themes and the subjects of your films?
Human relationships. How it influences you in interaction
with other people. In all projects I am working on at the moment,
this is the common dominator.
Do you see yourself as an artist?
For the longest time, I did not, but I think I do now.
Why now?
I do not know when the shift happened. It was very gradual,
because for a long time, I did not give myself permission. I get to
define what sort of an artist I am. I think people have switched
on to that in the last few years. We have artists who are doing
beautiful work.
Do you think there is a political approach to your film ‚Soul Boy‘?
If political is self-awareness and pushing boundaries to see
who we are, then yes. If political is looking to yourself and expressing yourself as you want.
Is film making a political statement and is there a political aspect in
your work?
I would not say there is. I am interested in how people see
themselves, and actually, in connecting with what they see. To be
elevated for it that is what I am after, that is my agenda. I would
not consider that a political agenda, it is no political expression,
but there are the politics of art and what it says and how it stands,
where it is made, for sure. Do I consider myself someone creating
as political medium, I do not think so.
Where do you see the Kenyan or Nairobi film in 2030?
That depends on a lot of variables. If we go the way we currently are and all being equal and not interrupted, it will end in
expressions and more expressions. That would be great news,
because we definitely need more voices. They hold an honest slice
of the expression pie, as opposed to just having commerce and
relief agencies.
Just in an African context or in an international context?
Well, for Nairobi, it is definitely Nairobi. I hope it bleeds into
everywhere else and we connect lot more, because that is something missing at the moment, we need to work on, to have more
inter-African co-productions and interactions.
Do you see any specific role of society for film?
Our job is to show who we are and what could be. That is
our job.
Why is that important to show?
Because, I do not think we know who we are, and sometimes,
we need to get echoed back. If you keep going in a particular direction and you do not have a mirror, you have no idea. I know the
mirror is refracted, because it is through my eyes, but that is why
we need more people; then we have many perspectives.
First of all, you want to show it to the Kenyan people, but then again it
gets some international reputation?
I think international reputation is great, because it gives the
weight to pull forward, but it is more important that it has local
weight, that allows industries to grow.
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Michau Kühn
Nicht in meinem Namen
Not In My Name
In Vorbereitung auf unsere Reise nach Nairobi drängte sich
schon beim ersten Vorbereitungstreffen unserer Projektgruppe wiederholt die Frage auf, was es denn mit sich bringe, wenn wir als
Weiße1 Student*innen deutscher Staatsangehörigkeit nach Nairobi fahren, um einen Katalog über die Kunst in Nairobi zu publizieren und
auf diese Weise einem vorwiegend deutschen Publikum davon zu
berichten. Tun wir das aus einer Weißen Position heraus? Und wenn
ja, was bedeutet das? Würden wir in Kenia als Weiße wahrgenommen werden, und wenn ja, wie sollten wir damit umgehen? Derlei
Fragen zogen sich mal mehr mal weniger bewusst wie ein roter Faden durch das Projekt Sanaa Mtaani. In der Bemühung um Konsens
haben wir darüber so manch eine Kontroverse geführt. Diese Auseinandersetzung wirkte auch auf mich zurück und mit jedem weiteren
Schritt bemerkte ich, wie meine Unbefangenheit einem stetig wachsenden, ideellen, wie gefühlten Gepäck wich. Dieser persönliche Text
möchte einige Aspekte des komplexen Themas beleuchten, wie man
in Deutschland Weiß wird und welche individuelle Verantwortung
meiner Meinung nach daraus hervorgeht. Was ist also in meinem Gepäck? In der Tasche ist die Geschichte, wie es dazu kam, dass mein
älteres Kind im Kindergarten nicht mit einem anderem spielen wollte,
As we were preparing for our trip at our project group’s first
meeting, we were faced with the question of what it meant that
we, as White1 students of German nationality, were travelling to
Nairobi. We were to publish a catalogue about the local art scene
there and report on it to a predominantly German audience. Would
we do this from a White position? And if so, what would that
mean? Would we be perceived as White in Kenya, and if so, how
would we deal with it? These questions sometimes more, sometimes less consciously haunted the Sanaa Mtaani project like a red
stain. In striving for consensus, we had to deal with quite a lot of
controversy. These debates also had an impact on me — with each
step I noticed that my impartiality gave way to mental and emotional baggage that was steadily growing heavier. This personal
account sheds light on some aspects of this complex topic, namely, of how one becomes White in Germany and, in my view, what
sort of individual responsibility goes along with this. What then
is in my baggage? In the bag there is the story of how my oldest
child did not want to play with another child in kindergarten because he was Black. My backpack contains my growing insecurity
about being White and the problematic aspects of our project. In
the suitcase there is an awareness of the existing system of global
1„Schwarz und Weiß bezeichnen politische und soziale Konstruktionen und sind nicht
als biologische Eigenschaften zu verstehen. Sie beschreiben also nicht Hautfarben
von Menschen, sondern ihre Position als diskriminierte oder privilegierte Menschen
in einer durch Rassismus geprägten Gesellschaft. Während sich mit Schwarz auf
eine emanzipatorische Selbstbezeichnung bezogen wird, wird Weiß explizit benannt, um die dominante Position zu kennzeichnen, die sonst meist unausgesprochen bleibt. Damit der Konstruktionscharakter deutlich wird, werden Schwarz und
Weiß großgeschrieben.“ glokal e.V.: Mit kolonialen Grüßen... Berichte und Erzählungen von Auslandsaufenthalten rassismuskritisch betrachtet. Berlin 2013, S. 10
http://www.glokal.org/publikationen/mit-kolonialen-gruessen/
Das Personalpronomen „wir“ bezieht sich hier auf ein Weißes „wir“, da sowohl
die Projektgruppe als auch die Leserschaft dieses Kataloges sich wahrscheinlich
im Wesentlichen aus dieser Gruppe zusammensetzt und der Text auch an dieses
„wir“ appelliert.
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1“Black and White denominate political and social constructions and are not
to be understood as biological traits. Thus they do not describe the skin colour of people but their position as discriminated against or privileged
people in a society informed by racism. While Black refers to an emancipatory self-denomination, White is explicitly used to describe a dominant position that is otherwise merely implicit. In order to reveal the constructed
character of these terms, Black and White are capitalized.” (translation Charlotte Thießen) glokal e.V.: Mit kolonialen Grüßen... Berichte und Erzählungen
von Auslandsaufenthalten rassismuskritisch betrachtet. Berlin 2013, S. 10.
http://www.glokal.org/publikationen/mit-kolonialen-gruessen/
Since the project group as well as the readership of this catalogue is presumably
essentially White and the text is also written to appeal to this group of people,
the personal pronoun “us” refers to a White “us”.
weil es Schwarz ist. Der Rucksack beinhaltet meine eigene wachsende Unsicherheit hinsichtlich des Weißseins und die problematischen
Aspekte unseres Projektes. Im Koffer ist ein Bewusstsein über ein
System der globalen Ungleichheit und die Schlussfolgerungen, die ich
daraus ziehe.
Tasche: Mein vierjähriges Kind versteht nicht, dass in Nairobi die Polizisten
nicht Weiß sind
Während meines Aufenthaltes in Nairobi haben mich meine Erinnerungen an rassistische Diskriminierung durch die Polizei in meinem
Kiez ständig begleitet. Ein Gedanke dabei war, dass wenn auch keiner der Menschen, denen ich in Kenia begegnet bin, diese Ereignisse
kennt, so würden sie bei einem Besuch vermutlich alsbald zum Opfer
dieser Diskriminierung werden.
Meine Kinder, vier und sechs Jahre alt, wohnen in Berlin direkt
am Görlitzer Park, der in letzter Zeit durch bundesweite Berichterstattung zum Albtraum von Eltern kleiner Kinder erklärt worden ist. Es
ist kein schöner, aber ein trotzdem sehr angesagter Park. Seit einigen
Jahren hat er sich auch zu einem Anlaufpunkt für junge, afrikanische
Männer entwickelt. Der Großteil von ihnen, so heißt es, sind Geflüchtete mit einem unsicheren oder illegalisierten Aufenthaltsstatus. Die Polizei hat dort „zum Schutz“ der Anwohner und ihrer Kinder im letzten
Jahr 138 Razzien durchgeführt, also im Durchschnitt jeden zweiten
bis dritten Tag. Und das sieht folgendermaßen aus: Es gibt die großen, medienwirksamen Razzien, die bis zu acht Stunden andauern. Der
ganze Park ist von Mannschaftswagen umstellt und jeder Eingang
wird kontrolliert. Dann stürmen die Polizeikräfte den Park – in zivil
wie auch als Robocops – und gehen auf Menschenhatz. Jeder andere
Begriff für diese Praxis wäre ein Euphemismus. Sämtliche Schwarze
Menschen werden zum Freiwild erklärt, unabhängig davon, ob diese
gerade grillen, abhängen, mit Freunden oder Familie einfach nur den
Park besuchen oder ihrem Tagesgeschäft nachgehen. Jeder einzelne
von ihnen wird am Körper, Kleidung und seiner Habe durchsucht
und seine Papiere werden gründlich überprüft. Wer wegläuft, wird
eingefangen, zu Boden geworfen. Oft knien gleich mehrere Polizisten
auf seinem Rücken, Handschellen werden angelegt und er wird durch
den Park vor aller Augen abgeführt als handle es sich hierbei um einen Kapitalverbrecher. Schon mein vierjähriges Kind hat das Schema
inequality and the conclusions I draw from it.
Bag: My four-year-old child doesn‘t understand that in Nairobi the police
are not White
My recollections of the racial discrimination practiced by the
police in my neighbourhood have followed me ceaselessly during
my stay in Nairobi. One of my thoughts was that even if none of
the people I encountered in Kenya knew of these events, they
would very likely become victims themselves of this kind of discrimination were they ever to visit.
My children, four and six years old, live in Berlin right next
to Görlitzer Park which was recently declared a nightmare for
parents with little kids by the national media. It is not a beautiful park, yet it is very hip. A couple of years ago, it also turned
into the base camp for many young African men. The majority of
them are said to be refugees with precarious or illegal residence
statuses. In order to “protect” the inhabitants and their kids, the
police have conducted 138 raids over the course of last year meaning an average of every second to third day. And this looks as
follows: there are the big raids, widely reported upon in the media,
which take up to eight hours. Teams of police surround the whole
park block and control each entrance. Then the police forces – in
civilian as well as in ‘Robocop’ gear - storm the park and go on a
manhunt. Every other expression for this procedure would be a euphemism. All Black people are declared fair game, independent of
whether they are having a barbecue, hanging out, just visiting the
park with friends or family, or going after their daily business. The
bodies, clothes, and belongings of every single one of them are
searched and their papers are thoroughly inspected. Those who
run are caught and thrown to the ground. Often, more than one
policeman kneels on their backs. The men are handcuffed and led
away through the park for everyone to see, as if the police were
dealing with capital offenders. Even my four-year-old understands
the pattern that many a silent spectator refuses to admit to her- or
himself: “They won‘t do anything to us. We are White.” In the side
streets, one can see people retreating rapidly from the park, hoods
over their heads and hands buried deep in their pockets, trying to
hide each suspicious centimetre of their skin colour.
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verstanden, welches sich so manch schweigender Beobachter nicht
eingestehen will: „Uns tun die ja nichts, wir sind ja Weiße.“ In den Seitenstraßen sieht man dann Menschen sich eilig vom Park entfernen,
die Kapuze über dem Kopf, die Hände tief in den Taschen, um möglichst jeden verräterischen Zentimeter ihrer Hautfarbe zu verdecken.
Weiter gibt es die alltäglichen Festnahmen: Auf dem Heimweg
vom Kindergarten sehen wir, wie ein Schwarzer Mann in Handschellen, von etlichen Zivilpolizisten umstellt, an die Parkmauer gedrückt
wird. Sein angst- und schmerzverzerrtes Gesicht wird mit behandschuhten Händen gegen die Wand gepresst. Aufgebracht bleibe ich
stehen und poche darauf, dass sie ihn wie einen Menschen behandeln sollen. Sie fuchteln mit einem Papier aus seiner Tasche herum
und „erklären“ mir, vermutlich in der Erwartung, auf mein Verständnis zu treffen: „Hier steht‘s, der darf gar nicht hier sein.“
Und dann sind da noch die üblichen kleinen Schikanen: Wieder
mit den Kindern auf dem Heimweg vom Kindergarten, wieder Polizei:
Ein einzelner, kleiner Einsatzwagen rast durch den Park auf einen
Treffpunkt der Afrikaner zu. Die Polizisten sind zu zweit und könnten
eigentlich gar nichts ausrichten, aber das scheint auch gar nicht ihr
Ziel zu sein. Es ist ganz offensichtlich, dass sie einfach nur 30 Schwarze Männer vor ihnen flüchten sehen wollen. Als sie endlich davon
ablassen und langsam und befriedigt an uns vorbei fahren, empöre
ich mich. Unverstanden, weil ich ihre Genugtuung nicht teile, werde
ich angeschnauzt: „Willst du, dass die deinen Kindern Drogen verkaufen?“ Ja, manche von ihnen verkaufen Gras. So what? Der Albtraum
im Görlitzer Park beginnt erst, wenn das Blaulicht aufleuchtet. Im
Kindergarten wird immer wieder ein Buch gelesen, wie es das in
fast jedem Kinderzimmer gibt: Ein netter Polizist regelt den Verkehr,
hilft Kindern und Alten über die Straße und jagt die bösen Räuber –
der Freund mit dem Helfersyndrom halt. Dann aber gehen wir durch
unseren Park nach Hause und sehen, wie dieser nette Polizist seiner
Arbeit nachgeht.
Für uns ist das seit Jahren trauriger Alltag und meine Kinder
haben schon alle möglichen Situationen erlebt und sich daran ge2 Die Erfahrungen der Betroffenen sind in diesem Text nicht berücksichtigt. Schon
ein Mindestmaß an Empathie ermöglicht hier naheliegende Spekulationen, aber
aus dieser Perspektive kann ich nicht berichten. In Vorbereitung auf diesen Artikel habe ich ein Gespräch mit einem zufällig ausgewählten Schwarzen Mann
182
Then there are the daily arrests: on our way home from the
kindergarten, we see a Black, handcuffed man surrounded by a
number of plainclothes policemen being pressed against a park
wall. His scared and pain-struck face is squashed against the stone
by gloved hands. Incensed, I stop and insist that they treat him
like a human being. They wave a paper from his pocket and ‘explain’ to me, probably expecting to be met with understanding:
“It‘s written here, he‘s not allowed to be here.”
And then there are the usual little harassments: again on our
way home from the kindergarten, again the police. A single police
car races through the park heading towards an African’s meeting
point. There are only two policemen in the car, meaning that they
can‘t accomplish anything. But that doesn‘t seem to be the goal,
anyway. It is clear that all they want is to see thirty Black men
fleeing from them. When they finally cease and slowly drive past
us, satisfied, out of the park, I voice my disgust. Not understood
because I don‘t share their satisfaction, they yell at me: “Do you
want them to sell drugs to your kids?” Yes, some of them sell
weed – so what? The nightmare at Görlitzer Park only begins
when the blue lights flash. At the kindergarten, there is a book
that exists in almost every child’s room. In it, they read repeatedly:
a nice policeman does traffic control, helps children and the elderly to cross the street, and also hunts evil thieves – our friend with
a helper syndrome. But then we go home through our park and
see this same, ‘nice’ policeman go about his work.
This has been our sad, daily routine for years. My kids have
already experienced all sorts of these situations and grown accustomed to them2. But how did the kids absorb them? These experiences have unsettled and frightened my kids. One of them says
about his cousin, who has a very dark skin tone, that he likes him
despite the fact that he looks like a Black person. And even though
he is usually quite fond of travelling, he does not want to come to
Namibia with me. To my question why, he replies, with the honest
2 The experiences of the people affected by this are not considered in this text.
Although a minimum of empathy makes plausible speculations possible, I cannot
report from this perspective. In preparation for this article, I talked to a Black
man, chosen at random from Görlitzer Park, and asked him about his experiences
with the police: “Racist, it‘s just racist. They call us ‘N-word’ and they beat us.“
Anonymous, Berlin March 2013.
wöhnt.2 Aber wie haben es die Kleinen aufgenommen? Diese Erfahrungen haben meine Kinder verstört und verängstigt. Eines sagt über
seinen Cousin, der einen sehr dunklen Teint hat, dass er ihn gern
habe, obwohl dieser wie ein Schwarzer aussehe. Und obwohl ansonsten reiselustig möchte es nicht mit mir nach Namibia fahren. Auf die
Frage nach dem Grund antwortet es in der ehrlichen Sprache eines
vierjährigen Kindes: „Ich mag keine Schwarzen Menschen, ich habe
Angst vor der Polizei.“ Mittlerweile ist dieses Kind zwei Jahre älter.
Als Elternteil war ich stark verunsichert und im Grunde auch hilflos,
wie damit umzugehen sei. Mittlerweile verstehen beide, ihrem Alter
entsprechend, dass die Afrikaner im Görlitzer Park keine bösen Räuber sind, dass die Gewalt einseitig von der Polizei ausgeht und dass
das etwas Ungerechtes ist.
Rucksack: Was habe ich damit zu tun?
Doch wie steht es mit mir und unserem Projekt? Wie kommt es,
dass wir uns im Rahmen dessen mit folgenden Fragen konfrontiert
sahen: „Warum ist dieses Schwarz/Weißsein als Thema so wichtig?
Teilen wir durch diese Problematisierung nicht erst selbst Menschen
in Gruppen auf? Warum können wir nicht nach Nairobi einfach als
Menschen hinfahren und anderen Menschen auf Augenhöhe begegnen? Bringe ich etwa selbst stereotype Bilder mit?“
In meiner Jugend war ich ein Sympathisant der Black Panther
Party der 60/70er Jahre, jahrelang in der Solibewegung für Mumia
Abu-Jamal aktiv und habe mit anderen gemeinsam gerne mal Nazis
in ihre Schranken gewiesen. Die Demarkationslinien waren klar: Rassisten waren immer die anderen. Doch vor der Fahrt nach Nairobi
fühlte ich mich überraschenderweise mehr und mehr verunsichert
wegen der Vorstellung, in mir selbst stereotype Vorstellungen vorzufinden. Mental bereitete ich mich auf die Schwarze Mehrheitsgesellschaft vor, als würde ich dort eben auf „die Anderen“ treffen und es
fühlte sich wie eine belastende Herausforderung an. Vor Ort war natürlich vieles anders im Gegensatz zum Gewohnten, aber ich atmete
auf im Zuge der banalen Beobachtung, dass die Bewohner Nairobis
ganz gewöhnlich ihrem Tagesgeschäft nachgehen. Kann es also sein,
vom Görlitzer Park geführt und ihn gefragt, wie es um seine Erfahrung mit der
Polizei stehe: „Racist, it‘s just racist. They call us “N-word“ and they beat us.“ Anonymous, Berlin März 2013.
language of a four year old: “I don‘t like Black people. I’m scared
of the police.” By now, my child is two years older. As a parent,
I was very uncertain, and, in a sense, helpless in the face of this
problem. By now my kids understand, according to their age, that
the Africans in the park are not evil thieves and that the violence
comes unilaterally from the police. Finally, they understand the
injustice of the situation.
Backpack: What do I have to do with it?
But where do I and the project stand? How did it come to
pass that in the context of this project we were confronted by the
following questions: “Why is the topic of being Black or White so
important? By problematizing this issue, don‘t we ourselves divide human beings into groups? Why can‘t we travel to Nairobi as
human beings and meet other human beings at eye-level? Do you
yourself bring stereotypes with you?”
In my youth, I was a sympathizer of the Black Panther Party
of the 1960s and 70s, active in solidarity work for Mumia AbuJamal, and sometimes enjoyed with others putting Nazis in their
place. The demarcation lines were clear: racists were always the
others. But surprisingly before our trip to Nairobi I felt increasingly
unsettled by the idea of finding stereotypical views within myself.
I mentally prepared for a Black majority society, as if I was in fact
going to encounter ‘the other’ there. It felt like a burdening challenge. Of course on site a lot was different from the habitual, but
I sighed with relief as I made the banal observation that Nairobi’s
inhabitants go about their daily business quite ordinarily. Could
it be then that some prejudice had sneaked its way into me, the
anti-racist?
A comparison: We are all well aware of the manipulative function of advertising, but with what matter of course do we think
ourselves too smart to get involved with it. Opening our dressers and fridges, however, we find that advertisements somehow
determine our buying habits. We deceive ourselves by thinking
that we bought these products, not because we succumbed to
advertising, but because we tried them out ourselves and deemed
them to be good and right. More often than not, the images transmitted through advertisements, however imperceptibly, achieve
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dass sich bei mir, dem Antirassisten, gewisse Zuschreibungen eingeschlichen haben?
Ein Vergleich: Wir alle sind uns der beeinflussenden Funktion
von Werbung bewusst, aber wie selbstverständlich halten wir uns für
zu klug um uns darauf einzulassen. Doch wenn wir unseren Kleideroder Kühlschrank öffnen, sehen wir, dass die Reklame doch irgendwie unser Einkaufsverhalten prägt. Und wir machen uns vor, dass
wir diese Produkte nicht etwa gekauft haben, weil wir der Werbung
erlegen wären, sondern weil wir sie selbst getestet und für gut und
richtig befunden haben. Die durch Werbung transportierten Bilder
führen also oft genug auf mal mehr mal weniger subtilen Wegen zum
Ziel. Aber was hat das mit den eingebrannten stereotypen Bildern zu
tun? Einige Beispiele: Morgens schlage ich die Zeitung auf und lese
über Afrika: HIV, Hunger und humanitäre Katastrophe. Auf dem Weg
zur Uni hängt ein Werbeplakat aus, das zu Spenden für eine Entwicklungsorganisation aufruft, nach dem Motto: „Weißer Mensch, Afrika
kriegt es von alleine nicht hin und braucht darum deine Hilfe.“ Etwas
später muss ich am Regent Hotel in Berlin Mitte vorbei: Am Eingang
steht ein Schwarzer Mann in kolonialer Dienerkleidung und wartet
darauf, den feinen Herrschaften die Autotür zu öffnen. Dann gehe
ich in die Unimensa etwas essen: An der Kasse sitzen hauptsächlich Weiße Frauen, beim Abwasch jedoch vor allem People of Color.
Ich blättere im Vorlesungsverzeichnis der Geschichtswissenschaften,
aber Afrika scheint wieder keine relevante Historie zu haben. Wieder
zurück in meiner Straße bemerke ich einen Aufkleber: „Refugees Welcome“.3 Usw. usf. In der Summe bleibt an einem gewöhnlichen Tag
das Bild eines hilfsbedürftigen, devoten, unterqualifizierten und ökonomisch schwachen, am Rande der Gesellschaft lebenden Schwarzen Menschen. Und jedes dieser Bilder vom Schwarzsein wird immer
gleichzeitig durch ein Weißes Äquivalent ergänzt. Sie sind nicht so
wie wir und vice versa. Wir fühlen uns aufgewertet und die Tür zum
Chauvinismus wird geöffnet. Natürlich weiß ich, dass diese Bilder
3 Mir ist die Motivation des Slogans bewusst, doch beinhaltet die Aussage „welcome“ auch die Position eines wohlmeinenden Gastgebers, der die Möglichkeit
hat, jemanden in seinem Haus willkommen zu heißen. Er ist so populär, weil
er sich der öffentlichen Hetze gegen Geflüchtete entgegenstellt – eine an sich
gute Sache. Jedoch ist das bestimmt auch möglich, ohne dass Paternalismus
mitschwingt. Es sollte das Recht der refugees sein, hierher zu kommen, ohne die
explizite Erlaubnis.
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their goals. But what does this have to do with the stereotypical
images burnt into our minds? Some examples: In the morning I
open the newspaper and read about Africa: HIV, famine, and humanitarian catastrophe. On the way to university there is a poster
for a development organisation asking for donations. Their motto
is: “White person, Africa cannot make it by itself and therefore
needs your help.” Shortly afterwards, I pass the Regent Hotel in
Berlin Mitte, where a Black male standing in front of the entrance,
wearing a colonial servant’s outfit, waits to open the car door for
the genteel people. Then I go to the university cantina to eat. The
women sitting at the registers are mostly White, but those at the
dishwashing station, however, are mostly people of colour. I leave
through the History department’s course catalogue and find that
Africa seems again to have had no relevant history. On my street
again, I notice a sticker: “Refugees Welcome”3. And I could come
up with more examples.
In summary, what stays with me on a normal day is the image
of a submissive, under-qualified, economically weak Black person
living at the edges of society. Each of these images of Blackness
is simultaneously complemented by a White equivalent. They are
not like us, and vice versa. As we feel valorised, the door to chauvinism is opened. Of course, I know these images are wrong or
incomplete, but I know this is also the case in advertisements.
Adding the experiences of this single day to the 12.440 days I
have lived thus far, it seems self-evident, that this Eurocentric and
chauvinist indoctrination could not have past me without leaving
a mark4. And once the image is absorbed, one becomes a disseminator of that image.
3 I am aware of the motivations behind this slogan; however the word “welcome” also entails the position of a well-meaning host who has the opportunity to welcome someone into their home. He is thus popular because of his
opposition to public agitation against refugees – a good thing in itself. Nonetheless, it should be possible to do this without the resonating paternalism. It should be the right of refugees to come here without explicit consent.
4 As a good introductory reading I would like to suggest a book which discusses
the “key terms of the white, western system of knowledge in order to review the
collaboration between racism, knowledge and power” (translation Charlotte Thießen): Susan Arndt, Nadja Ofuatey-Alazard: Wie Rassismus aus Wörtern spricht.
Unrast Verlag, Münster 2011.
falsch oder unvollständig sind, aber das weiß ich bei der Werbung
auch. Wenn ich die Erfahrungen dieses einen Tages zu denen meiner
gelebten 12.440 addiere, scheint es selbstverständlich, dass diese Indoktrination mit Eurozentrismus und Chauvinismus nicht spurlos an
mir vorbeigegangen sein kann.4 Und ist das Bild erstmal internalisiert,
wird man selbst zum Multiplikator.
Neben den wirkungsmächtigen alltäglichen Bildern, gibt es noch
die uns qua Geburt mitgegebenen Privilegien. Rassismus findet immer in zwei Richtungen statt. Wo jemand diskriminiert wird, profitiert
der andere – zumindest kurzfristig. (Wobei letztendlich doch beide
die Verlierer sind, denn: „Wo Unterdrückung stattfindet, bin ich nicht
frei!“) Wir können uns von „den Anderen“ und auf ihre Kosten unsere
Alltagswaren produzieren lassen. Im Park wissen wir, dass wir unbehelligt den Joint weiterreichen können, während neben uns eine
Menschenhatz im Gange ist. Auch steht der Weißen Mittelschichtsjugend die Welt als Abenteuerspielplatz zur Verfügung: Wir können uns
weit entfernte Regionen und Metropolen anschauen und zu Hause
als mutmaßlich objektive Beobachter davon berichten. Auch wenn
wir diesen Umstand bedauern, meinen wir zu „wissen“, dass andere
Gesellschaften defizitär sind. Darum können wir, so wir denn „gute“
Menschen sind, ihnen helfen so zu werden, wie wir heute sind und
uns dabei in der Rolle des Wohltäters gefallen.
Das Bekenntnis, diese Privilegien abzulehnen, fällt nicht schwer.
Im Rahmen dieses Projektes habe ich wohl mehrere davon in Anspruch genommen. So war etwa meine Teilnahme daran wenig uneigennützig. Die große Form des Projektes: Weiße Student*innen berichten anderen Weißen Student*innen in Form eines Katalogs von
der Stadt Nairobi und ihrer Kunst, halte ich an vielen Stellen für problematisch. Als Student der Afrikawissenschaften wollte ich trotzdem
einfach diese Möglichkeit ergreifen, endlich eine afrikanische Metropole zu besuchen und mir als Graffitibegeisterter die lokale Szene
anschauen. Das Motiv des Helfenden, die Idee mit diesem Katalog
die lokalen Künstler*innen unterstützen zu können, lässt sich hier
unschwer ausmachen. Hätten kenianische Student*innen zehn Tage
4 Als gute Einstiegslektüre sei hier auf ein Werk verwiesen, in dem „Kernbegriffe
des weißen westlichen Wissenssystems diskutiert [werden], um das Zusammenwirken von Rassismus, Wissen und Macht aufzuarbeiten“. Susan Arndt, Nadja
Ofuatey-Alazard: Wie Rassismus aus Wörtern spricht. Unrast Verlag, Münster
2011.
Apart from these manipulative daily images, there are the privileges given to us at birth. Racism always happens in two ways.
When one person is discriminated against, somebody else profits
– at least for a time. (Even if both parties are ultimately losers
since: “Where there is repression, I am not free!”) Our everyday
commodities are produced by and on the backs of ‘the other’. At
the park, we know that we can pass the joint without being molested, while next to us the manhunt is in full swing. Also the world
Siwft9 painting a
tribute to Malcolm X.
is an adventure playground at the disposal of White middle class
youth. We can take a look at far away regions and metropolises
and make reports back at home as allegedly objective observers.
Even if we regret the situation, we think we ‘know’ that other societies are deficient. That is why, in so far as we are ‘good’ people,
we can help others to become more like we are today, delighting
in the role of the benefactor. The avowal to reject these privileges
is not hard. In the context of this project, I seem to have made
use of several of them. Thus, my participation in it was not at all
selfless. I found the overall form of the project, in which White stu-
185
lang in Berlin so viele offene Türen bis hin zur nationalen Kunstelite
einlaufen können? Wie viele mitgebrachte und vom Leser erwartete
Bilder mit diesem Katalog reproduziert werden, ist für mich nicht abzuschätzen. Unterm Strich gewinnen wir als Teilnehmer*innen deutlich mehr mit diesem Projekt als die lokalen Künstler*innen: Wir haben eine fremdfinanzierte Reise erlebt, neue Erfahrungen gesammelt
und die Möglichkeit erhalten, eine Publikation zu initiieren. Um nicht
missverstanden zu werden: Wir waren uns vieler kritischer Fragen
bewusst und haben aktiv nach Antworten und Lösungen gesucht.
Darum haben wir z.B., wie bereits im Vorwort dieses Katalogs erläutert, das Interview als Methode gewählt, um die Künstler*innen
für sich selbst sprechen zu lassen, anstatt über sie zu berichten. Wir
wurden in Nairobi oft willkommen geheißen und auch ist das Projekt
dort auf Zustimmung gestoßen und hat viel Unterstützung erfahren.
Trotzdem denke ich, dass es wichtig ist, auch die problematischen
Seiten transparent zu machen.
Koffer: Die Komplizenschaft verweigern.
Die unterschiedlichen Formen rassistischer Diskriminierung
gehören zum kollektiven Schwarzen Bewusstsein, dafür muss kein
Kenianer den Görlitzer Park besuchen. Nicht ohne Grund beziehen
sich die Sprüher Nairobis auf Schwarze Führungsfiguren wie Nelson
Mandela und Malcolm X und kennen die Geschichten von Mumia
Abu-Jamal und Trayvon Martin. Rassismus ist ein Problem, mit dem
People of Color seither leben und kämpfen müssen. Aber es ist vor
allem ein Problem, das im Wesentlichen von den weißen Mehrheitsgesellschaften ausgeht. Unsere Gesellschaften sind alles andere als
politische, ökonomische und kulturelle Leuchttürme in einer Welt der
Defizite. Sie sind aufgebaut auf den jahrhundertealten Fundamenten
des Kolonialismus und der Sklaverei. Diese koloniale Epoche ist nicht
abgeschlossen, denn im globalen Süden findet die ökonomische Ausbeutung, ökologische Verheerung und politische Unterdrückung auf
Umwegen des Neokolonialismus kompromisslos und kontinuierlich
statt. Kurzum, unser Wohlstand ist das Ergebnis ihrer Armut. Die
territorialen Grenzen unserer Gesellschaften sind mit ihren Leichen
gepflastert. Und in Deutschland wird wieder aktuell lautstark die Forderung aufgestellt, deutsche Soldaten nach Afrika zu schicken. Das
alles ist zwar große kapitalistisch-imperialistische Weltpolitik, aber sie
186
dents gave an account of Nairobi and its art in form of a catalogue
for White students, problematic. As a student of African Studies,
however, I should take this opportunity to finally visit an African
metropolis. As a graffiti enthusiast, I also had a chance to look at
the local scene. The motif of the helper, the idea that this catalogue can support local artists, is not hard to make out here. Would
Kenyan students spending ten days in Berlin be able to open as
many doors to the national art elites as we did? I cannot begin to
estimate how many pre-established images (also expected by the
reader) are reproduced in this catalogue. The bottom line is that as
participants we gain much more from this project than the local artists: we went on a sponsored trip, during which we gathered new
experiences and had the opportunity to produce a publication. Not
to be misunderstood: we were aware of many critical questions
and did actively try to find answers and solutions. This is why, as
was explained in the introduction to this catalogue, we chose the
interview format to let the artists speak for themselves instead of
reporting on them. We were often welcomed in Nairobi and the
project itself was met with approval and was given much support.
Nonetheless, I think that it is important to make the problematic
sides of it transparent.
Suitcase: To refuse complicity
Different forms of racial discrimination are part of the collective Black consciousness. No Kenyan must ever visit Görlitzer Park
for this to be so. It is not without reason that the sprayers of Nairobi refer to Black leaders, such as Nelson Mandela and Malcolm
X, and know the stories of Mumia Abu-Jamal and Trayvon Martin.
Racism is a problem which people of colour have to constantly live
out and fight. But foremost, it is a problem that essentially has its
origins in the White majority societies. Our societies are everything
but political, economical and cultural beacons in a world of deficiencies. They are built upon the century-old fundaments of colonialism and slavery. This colonial epoch is not over. In the Global
South, economic exploitation, ecological devastation, and political
repression continue through a neo-colonialism which persists unabated. In short, our wealth is the result of their poverty. The territorial borders of our societies are plastered with their dead bodies.
wird in unserem Namen gemacht und auf unterschiedlichen Ebenen
profitieren auch wir davon.
Eine andere Welt, in der wir uns tatsächlich weltweit einfach nur
als unterschiedliche Menschen begegnen können, ist möglich. Aber
diese Welt ist es nicht. Augenhöhe bedeutet Gleichwertigkeit. Solange meine Gesprächspartner aus Nairobi nicht die Möglichkeit haben,
ein Rechercheprojekt über die Kunst in Berlin zu machen und mich
im Görlitzer Park dafür interviewen können, ohne Opfer rassistischer
Diskriminierung zu werden, und solange Kinder in Deutschland in der
Annahme aufwachsen, dass es normal sei, wenn deutsche Polizisten
Schwarzen Menschen mit Gewalt begegnen, kann eine Gleichwertigkeit nicht gegeben sein. People of Color im sozialen Umfeld, Schwarze Musik oder eine Backpackertour im globalen Süden sind keine
Impfung gegen Chauvinismus. Weil wir in einer rassistischen Gesellschaft aufgewachsen sind, müssen wir uns mit unseren rassistischen
Vorstellungen und den damit einhergehenden unterschiedlichen
Rollenbildern, ungleichen Möglichkeiten und Perspektiven gründlich
auseinandersetzen. Auch um uns nicht der Illusion hinzugeben, dass
wir einfach entscheiden könnten, dass hier und heute in einem größeren Kontext eine Begegnung auf Augenhöhe gegeben sei. Es ist ein
schweres, problematisches und komplexes Gepäck, mit dem ich nach
Nairobi gefahren bin und das ich auch weiterhin mit mir trage. Und
doch werde ich in dieser Auseinandersetzung mit jedem Schritt als
Mensch etwas bewusster und somit freier.
Vom „Görlitzer Park“ über mein eigenes Weißsein zum globalen
Machtverhältnis und kulturellen Begegnungen in Nairobi scheint sich
ein weiter Bogen zu spannen. Und dennoch ist das eine mit dem anderen verwoben. Wir können nichts dafür, in ein System hineingeboren
zu sein, in dem die rassistische Idee von einer vermeintlichen Weißen
Überlegenheit von Kindesbeinen an täglich gefüttert wird. Und es ist
auch nicht unsere Schuld, in einem Staat zu leben, der ein führender
Protagonist und Profiteur des Kapitalismus/Imperialismus als einem
globalen Machtverhältnis ist. Doch stehen wir in vielerlei Verpflichtung, um uns nicht der schweigenden Komplizenschaft schuldig zu
machen: Es liegt in unserer Verantwortung, unser Verhalten zu reflektieren, viele unserer Ideen in Frage zu stellen, daran zu arbeiten,
einen Beitrag für eine Welt zu leisten, in der die Kinder Rassismus nur
noch aus Geschichtsbüchern kennen und wir auch heute schon uns
individuell dazu positionieren: Nicht in meinem Namen.
Meanwhile, in Germany vociferous demands are being made once
again to send German soldiers to Africa. All of this happens as a
result of big capitalism’s world politics – however, it happens in
our name and, on different levels, we also profit from it.
Another kind of world, in which we could encounter each
other globally, as different human beings, is possible. But it is not
the world we live in. Eye-level equals equality. As long as my interlocutors in Nairobi don‘t have the chance to conduct a research
project in Berlin and interview me in Görlitzer Park without falling
victim to racial discrimination, and as long as kids in Germany
grow up with the assumption that it is normal for German policemen to engage Black people with violence, there can be no equality. People of colour in our social circles, listening to music by black
artists, or going on a backpacking trip through the Global South
are not vaccines against chauvinism. Because we grew up in a
racist society, we must thoroughly examine our racist imaginary
along with the accompanying role-playing, unequal opportunities,
and perspectives. Also in order not to give ourselves to the illusion that we can simply decide that now and here an encounter
on eye-level is given in a wider context. The baggage with which
I travelled to Nairobi, which I still carry, is difficult, problematic,
and complex. By examining this problem, I become a more aware
person with each step, and thus freer.
There is a wide arc that seems to hover above Görlitzer Park,
my own Whiteness, global power relations, and the cultural encounters in Nairobi. Nevertheless, each seems to be weaved in to
the other. We cannot help that we were born into a racist society
in which the alleged superiority of White people is fed to us from
childhood onwards. And it is also not our fault that we live in a
state that is a leading protagonist and profiteer of capitalist and
imperialist global power relationships. However, we have an obligation to avoid the guilt of silent complicity. It is our responsibility
to reflect on our behaviour and to question our ideas, to contribute
to a world in which children only understand racism from history
books, and where each of us here and now takes the position: Not
In My Name.
187
Weiterlesen
Literaturtipps:
Institutionen:
Charlotte Wiedemann: „Vom Versuch, nicht weiß zu schreiben : oder:
wie Journalismus unser Weltbild prägt“. 2012, Köln : PapyRossa.
http://www.pawa254.org/
http://www.gingerink.tv/
http://www.thegodownartscentre.com/
http://www.ketebulmusic.org/
https://www.facebook.com/pages/MAASAI-MBILI-ART-CENTRE/55160089643
http://kuonatrust.org/
glokal e.V.: „Mit kolonialen Grüßen. Berichte und Erzählungen von
Auslandsaufenthalten rassismuskritisch betrachtet“.
2013, Berlin. 2., vollst. überarb. Aufl.
Jürgen Hasse: „Atmosphären der Stadt : Aufgespürte Räume“.
2012, Berlin : Jovis.
Manuel Aßner et.al. (Hg.): „AfrikaBilder im Wandel? : Quellen,
Kontinuitäten, Wirkungen und Brüche“. 2012, Frankfurt, M. ; Berlin ;
Bern ; Bruxelles ; New York, NY ; Oxford ; Wien : Lang.
María do Mar Castro Varela; Nikita Dhawan: „Postkoloniale Theorie :
Eine kritische Einführung“. 2009, Bielefeld : transcript.
2., vollst. überarb. Aufl.
Maureen Maisha Eggers et.al. (Hg.): „Mythen, Masken und Subjekte :
Kritische Weißseinsforschung in Deutschland“. 2009, Münster : Unrast.
2., überarb. Aufl.
Sharon Dodua Otoo: „Die Dinge, die ich denke, während ich höflich
lächle ... : eine Novelle“. 2013, Münster : Ed. Assemblage. 1. Aufl.
Susan Arndt & Nadja Ofuatey-Alazard (Hg.): „Wie Rassismus aus Wörtern spricht : (K)Erben des Kolonialismus im Wissensarchiv deutscher
Sprache ; ein kritisches Nachschlagewerk“. 2011, Münster :
Unrast. 1. Aufl.
188
Netzwerke:
http://www.arterialnetwork.org/
https://www.facebook.com/africancolours
http://artmatters.info/
http://www.mobilityhubafrica.org/
Events:
http://nairobinow.wordpress.com/
http://www.upnairobi.com/
Graffitikünstler in Nairobi:
sprayforchange.com
Graffitikampagne zu den Wahlen:
www.vice.com/read/being-a-kenyan-graffiti-artist-takes-balls/36894
Projekthomepage mit weiterführenden Links zu den Künstler*innen:
sanaamtaani.org
Wir danken:
Wir danken besonders Ben Hermanski für das Lektorieren der englischen
Texte und Interviews sowie Simone Großer für die Übersetzung des
Vorworts. Außerdem danken wir herzlich:
Fred Abuga
Rosemary Ahono
Renee Akitelek
Angel
Bankslave
Joseph Mbatia Bertier
Dominik Binnahizzah
Uhuru B
Sara Cunningham
Hawa Essuman
Anna Fiedler
Ross Franks
Mariam Abdel Gaurad
Sylvia Gichia
Otieno Gomba
Khoisan Hassan
Torsten Heinrich
Bruce Jackson
Cyrus Kabiru
Dickson Kalokia
Jackie Karuti
Beth Kimwele
Omosh Kindeh
Kombe Kithi
Purity Kiura
Rose Koki
Reuben Kombe
Sarika Hemi Lakani
Franziska Lukas
Joel Lukhovi
Lena & Bartek
Reuben Mangi
Sidney Mangongo
Thobias Minzi
Mohammet
Josephine Mufunga
Tonney Mugo
Patrick Mukabi
Dennis Muraguri
Andre Njoroge
Paul, Patricia Njuguma
Saviour Omondi
Tabu Osusa
Anke Schwarzer
Bettina Schmidt
Andreas Paul Schulz
Rahab Shine
Sozi36
Kevoo Steroo
Swift9
Shine Tani
Charlotte Thießen
Wakanyote
Anthony Wanjau
Florence Wangui
Joseph Wambua
Faith Wamsiru
Institutionen, Organisationen:
1UP CREW
Banana Hill Art Gallery
DGB-Jugend Hamburg
Go Down Arts Centre
Hans-Böckler-Stiftung
Kenya National Theatre
Khweza Hostel Team
Kuona Trust Arts Centre
Maasai Mbili
Nairobi National Museum
overkillshop.com
PAWA254
Stipendiatische Projektkomission
189