africa art

'Les Chers Enfants' sans Papa Author(s): Elizabeth Harney Source: Oxford Art Journal, Vol. 19, No. 1 (1996), pp. 42-52 Published by: Oxford University Press Stable URL: https://www.jstor.org/stable/1360650 Accessed: 23-04-2020 21:40 UTC

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'Les Chers Enfants' sans Papa1

ELIZABETH HARNEY

I don't situate myself in a particular African problematic/ paradigm. For me, there isn't such a thing as an African art, or a Senegalese art. My problem isn't to try to be an African, I am one. The 'African soul' is in me and I don't need to wear it on my sleeve, to make an obsession of it.2

Senegalese artist Viye Diba speaks not only to the tendency of neoprimitivist critics to categorize the African artist by his or her cultural differences, to seek the 'Africanness' and the 'African' in each

artwork, but also to a specific feature of Senegalese cultural history.3 The nation of Senegal was unique amongst African states because it developed an explicit and well-funded cultural policy which sought to define the identity of the Senegalese, and by extension, African artist and to create an authen- tically modern African aesthetic which reflected the shared cultural heritage of the continent. One must examine and clarify the effects of this policy before one can understand the environment in which artists

like Diba live and work today. In 1966, under the aegis of its first president,

Leopold Sedar Senghor, Senegal hosted the Premier festival mondial des arts negres, a celebration of African art and culture from the continent and the diaspora. The festival featured exhibitions of traditional and

contemporary arts, dance, music and theatre. Senghor, as poet, philosopher, and statesman, used this occasion to promote his vision of pan-African- ism, known as Negritude. His version of Negritude was concerned with defining a place for the black man worldwide, highlighting and celebrating a shared cultural heritage and consciousness, or what he called, an ame negre and constructing a visual vocabulary suitable to express this new awareness.4 In his attempt to define a unique African aesthetic, Senghor encouraged the artists of his nation, his 'chers enfants', to assimilate European techniques while creating an iconography that was drawn from pan-African visual traditions. The mixing element of this new aesthetic suited Senegal as a country which prided itself on its role as a cultural crossroads and bridge between Africa and Europe.5

Senghor viewed culture and politics to be hand- maidens in the struggle towards the economic and social development of Senegal and thus the artist to be a key figure within this nationalist endeavour:

It is again art negre which, saving us from despair, uplifts us in our task of economic and social development, in our stubborn will to live. These are our poets, our storytellers, our musicians. Whether they paint violent mystical

abstractions or the noble elegance of the courts of love, whether they sculpt the nation lion or strange monsters, whether they dance the development plan or sing the diversification of crops, African artists, Senegalese artists today, help us live today better and more fully.6

His official sanction and promotion of their artworks served to define a place for the artist in the new nation as both an agent of development and, per- haps more importantly, as an ambassador for Senegal to the rest of the world.

The new president sought to manipulate the rhetoric of European Modernism and Primitivism to give power to his defense of African culture and artistic expression. To do so, he looked at the writ- ings of European scholars on Africa and coopted many of their visions of the Other or the 'primitive', reinterpreting them as virtues and values of African cultures.7 Thus the ame negre was said to be emotive, spiritual, expressive and rhythmic.8

At the Premier festival mondial des arts negres, Senghor coupled his rhetoric of Negritude with a plea for the creation of new form of humanism. In his concept of a Civilisation de l'universel, he laid special emphasis on the role that African cultural traditions could have in fostering a world civiliza- tion, made great by the very fact that it was a melange of the unique cultural elements from all the world's peoples.9

It was on this occasion that one first heard the

label, Ecole de Dakar. This label was used to describe the work of a group of artists active in Dakar in the 1960s and 1970s which formed an artistic

canon, based on shared formal qualities, themes, and patronage. The works of this Ecole were said to use the techniques of European modernism, often producing images that were Cubist, Fauvist, and Expressionist in nature. Its typical themes focused on images of an exotic Africa, either idyllic in its villages, lively in its markets, or mystical in its bush. The motifs of masks, sculpted figures, encised combs, ceremonial vessels, and textile patterning were drawn from throughout the continent and mixed with invented forms. Ironically, the images chosen to represent the traditional in African culture were those that had exotic and, therefore, market value to the European collector. The carvings and masks of a traditional, timeless, and pure Africa, untouched by Western civilization, provided the authority that was necessary to produce an authentic modern expression. Some critics, such as writers Ezekiel Mphahlele or Anthony Appiah, have

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referred to this process of constructing an authentic culture which is based on visions of oneself by others as a form of 'autocolonization', or, indeed, a 'manu- facture of otherness'.10

This Ecole de Dakar was strongly supported by an institutional framework and patronage erected by the Ministry of Culture. Devoting 25% of the state budget to culture, Senghor began a structure for the arts on the eve of Independence with the creation of the Ecole des arts du Seingal. This national school of fine arts, drama, music and architecture would change format, name, and location over the years but remain the central training institution preferred by many Senegalese artists, seeking success in gal- leries at home and abroad. The school was initially divided into two sections, both directed by Sene- galese artists, trained abroad. Painter Iba N'Diaye directed la section d'arts plastiques, in which he laid emphasis upon acquiring the technical skills of oil painting, of sketching from live and plaster models, and of understanding laws of perspective, composi- tion and so on. He based his course on those found

in the fine arts schools of Europe, where he had been a student."

Artist Papa Ibra Tall returned from studying architecture and fine arts in Paris to head the other

section at the school, la section de recherches en arts, plastiques nigres. In his teachings he promoted the development of a new visual language - one that could be representative of Africa and her peoples. He preferred to teach with a laissez-faire approach, believing that too much academicism would hinder the creative impulses of his students.12 In 1965 presi- dent Senghor invited Belgian teacher Pierre Lods to join the teaching staff in Papa Ibra Tall's depart- ment. Impressed by a speech he had heard Lods give on the occasion of the Black Writer's and Artist's

Congress, held in Rome in 1959, Senghor moved to make Lods part of his programme for the creation and development of an authentic African expression. Lods' experience in the Belgian Congo, as director of an artistic workshop, known as the Poto-Poto school, at which he encouraged the 'innate sense of com- position, of rhythm, and of colour harmony .. .'13 in the African artist, made him a likely candidate for Senghor's plans. His ideas of African sensibility, emotionality, instinct, and rhythm corresponded well with those of Senghor. Moreover, his teaching approach (he preferred only to supply materials, money, and a workspace conducive for creation) suggested that the African artist had a distinct artistic gift to contribute to the ideal Civilisation de I'universel.l4

Pierre Lods became an important figure in the art world of Dakar, partly because of his official role as teacher at the national art school, in the section most favoured by Senghor, but also for the role that he would play in unofficial circles of artistry. He, like other artists and intellectuals in Dakar, had his feet in more than one camp, as it were. Though he agreed with Senghor's philosophy, he did not neces-

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sarily support its institutionalization. Thus he encouraged his students to seek artistic freedom, dis- creetly directing some of his best students, whom he hosted in a personal workshop at his home, to look towards the artistic groupings forming beyond the government dialectic.15

Both Pierre Lods and Papa Ibra Tall, concerned as they were with the African nature of the artwork produced, were seen as catalysts for the Ecole de Dakar, and consequently, the works of artists study- ing with these men became characterized by associa- tion.

The national art school offered its students

scholarships during their studies and public ex- posure and patronage through a series of national art salons, at which the government amassed a large collection. The Senegalese government built the Musee Dynamique, a large museum overlooking Dakar's waterfront to host these salons and serve as a

national museum. In its years of operation, the museum exhibited not only the works of Senegalese artists Iba N'Diaye and El Hadji Moussa Babacar Sy, but also those of Pablo Picasso, Leonardo Da Vinci, and Marc Chagall, among others.16 Senghor declared, on the occasion of its opening in 1966:

Senegal is open for artistic and cultural impulses from inside and outside and wishes to play a sustaining role in the cultural exchange among nations in order to promote understanding.17

In 1965, Papa Ibra Tall left the art school and his section in the hands of Pierre Lods to become

director of the Manufacture senegalaise des arts dicoratifs, a tapestry school and factory, based upon a French model but given the program of producing images of 'African' inspiration. Though separate institutions, many of the students from the section de recherches en

arts plastiques negres were encouraged to submit miniature painted models to be made into tapestries at the Manufacture. Senghor personally oversaw the selection of many of these painted models and often gave the tapestries as state gifts. These tapestries, impressive in their craftsmanship, their size, and their expense, became the flagships of the Ecole de Dakar. They were given great exposure because of their use as state gifts, their prominent place in the salons and travelling international shows and their use in public spaces such as government offices, airports, hospitals and the like.

Senghor continued the agenda of the 1966 festival with the sponsorship of international travelling exhibits. Organized by a special commission at the Ministry of Culture which was presided over by Senghor himself, Art sinegalais d'aujourd'hui, began its life in 1974 at the Grand Palais in Paris and travelled for ten years around the world.18 It featured one hundred and forty-three works of art by some thirty-three artists and underscored the notion of a strong and active Ecole de Dakar at work in Senegal. Because the works were part of a state collection, a

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show of cultural patrimony, this exhibit served only to promote an image of Senegal and her arts to the rest of the world. It did not create new patronage opportunities for artists whose works were fea- tured.19 Indeed, the president himself, reflecting years later upon this exhibit, said:

It was this event which motivated us to reflect and take

scope of Senegalese art and its growing international influence; an art which could make Senegalese artists ambassadors of their country, a fact which was verified by the number of visitors exceeding the average.20

The further Senghor extended his program for the support of the arts and continued a rhetoric, espous- ing the virtues of Negritude, the more the work of the visual artists became associated with his philosophy, his writings (be they poetic or political) and with a nationalist agenda. As the term gained currency and popular usage it glossed over the realities of the individuals confined within it. This generation of 'Negritude painters' were seen as propagandists, expressing little creativity or talent, and 'filled with enthusiasm for the theoretic, unexplainable non- defineability of material and [were] satisfied with an elevated "appreciation" supported by poetic "critic- ism" '.21

There is little doubt that there was a process of codification and canonization that took place in the aftermath of the 1966 festival which had reached its

height by the time an international public was to see the productions of Senegal's artists again in the 1974 travelling exhibition. Because of his strong rhetoric, willingness to supply large sums of money for the arts, and almost complete lack of serious criticism, Senghor, perhaps inadvertantly, encouraged a formulaic aesthetic. Inevitably, the success of the Ecole de Dakar prompted many to jump on the bandwagon. The problem with this vision of the Ecole de Dakar, however, is that it assumes that all involved in it were 'infected with professionalism'22 and insincere in their artistic pursuits. While it is ultimately a futile task to trace artistic intention, it is worth noting that individuals such as Papa Ibra Tall or Ibou Diouf, a successful muralist and tapestry designer of the period, were true believers in the tenets of Negritude. In his student years in Paris, Tall acted as 'an errand boy for members of the Negritude movement'.23 He returned to Senegal, convinced that it was necessary for him to fashion a new visual language suitable for his new country; a language which would be created by Africans, for Africans, and would speak to the realities of Senegal as a new nation. He writes:

We Africans have a philosophy, sensibilities, and values that we must translate into works of art ... At bottom, within himself, an artist is the product of his culture, his social milieu and his traditions ... I see a brilliant future for the painter in Senegal, so long as we do not let our- selves be led by foreigners. Senegalese art, as everything here, can only be created by us. Foreign specialists cannot

teach us authentic art. The authenticity will come from us, without outside help, because it is within us. It remains for us to express it.24

Ibou Diouf, who was a close friend of Leopold Senghor, occasionally placed quotes of the presi- dent's poetry in the margins of his tapestries. This practice immediately caused critics to assume that the images were a visual interpretation of Senghor's writings. Diouf, however, insists that he used this poetry, and that of others writing at the time, because he was celebrating the freedom of his coun- try and his people. He was never instructed by Senghor to chose certain motifs or images.25 As a creative individual, he was caught up in the euphoria of the times and eager to give form to this hope.

If one looks at the works of individuals noted to

have formed part of an Ecole de Dakar, often the visual similarities are not immediately apparent. In her discussion of the Ecole de Dakar, art historian Ima Ebong, says the Ecole's artists 'attempted to find a balance between complete abstraction and African motifs .. .' and that the result of this process was 'a form of semi-abstraction'.26 Such a wide definition allowed the critic, of yesterday and today, to throw the net of Negritude over as many fish as he or she desired. So, the work of individuals such as Amadou Sow, whose recent experimentation with schematic imagery on coloured plexiglass, with no reference to motifs of masks or sculpted figures, are classed in the same grouping as those of Amadou Ba, whose stark, earth-toned narratives of life amongst the Peul, feature elongated, elegant figures of man and animal. Ebong continues her definition by utilizing a historical time-frame as a marker:

The term 'Ecole de Dakar' refers to the first generation of Senegalese painters, who made their public debut at the exhibition Tendances et confrontations, organized by Iba N'Diaye for the first World Festival of Pan-African Arts, held in Dakar in 1966 ... A wider definition of the 'Ecole de Dakar' would take into account certain artists of the

same generation who were not included in the exhibition ... as well as younger artists, born in the late 1940s and starting to exhibit in the 1970s, who were trained at the Ecole Nationale des Beaux Arts, in many cases by members of the first generation. These younger painters ... have developed highly individual styles, yet in many respects have not departed much from the 'semiabstract' generic style of painting associated with the Ecole de Dakar's first generation. They tend to appear less con- strained by their ancestral legacy and by the concern with establishing a national culture, but their work in many respects has become more insular, in the sense that an imaginative repertoire of themes and subjects becomes locked into an endless play of abstract forms and patterns.27

Some, such as critic Kojo Fosu, see the works of Papa Ibra Tall, with their elongated, colourful figures occupying a flattened space, as markers of the Ecole style and cite his students, Alioune Badiane,

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Abdoulaye N'Diaye or Fatou Seck as its members. Others claim that the teachings of Pierre Lods were responsible for the development of a fixed artistic canon, or Ecole, and that this canon was a continua- tion of the aesthetic propounded at his Poto-Poto school. While it is true that one can see a certain cohesiveness between the works of Tall and his

students, or, in some cases, between the painters of the Poto-Poto school and the 'Lodsians' in Dakar, the two theories do not always relate visually to one another.

The most important part of Ebong's definition is her acknowledgement that these artists 'were linked by their cosmopolitanism, their participation in local and international art institutions, rather than by any consciously unified stylistic program or theoretical position' and 'it's true that this ambiguous aesthetic convention has often allowed for highly individual formal solutions'.28

The Ecole de Dakar gains importance in the study of arts in Senegal, not so much because it enables one easily to group individuals by their participation in a particular aesthetic, as there are clearly many ideas of this aesthetic, but that it speaks of a realm of officialdom and a rhetoric of identity and of art which instilled a particularly strong image of Sene- galese arts at home and abroad. It has become, in the collective memory and consciousness of artists working in Senegal, a label that connotes a variety of things - government interference in the arts, images of the artist as worker or as spoiled-child, a hierarchisation of the arts and a set relationship between them, and a dated idea of how to express one's 'Africanness'. This 'invented tradition' serves

as a means through which to define oneself in Sene- galese art history.

By looking at the production of several practicing artists in Dakar today, I would like to suggest the advantages of viewing the links that exist between the history, rhetoric, patronage, and ideology of those first years after independence and that of 1994. I do not attempt a survey of artists, nor do I wish to suggest that these artists should be judged only by their relationship to the Ecole de Dakar, but simply that they should be seen as part of a continuous history.

At a time when there is renewed interest in post- independence and present-day artistic production, it is important to acknowledge the personal and col- lective histories of Africa. Because the label, Ecole de Dakar, has been part of the discourse surrounding Senegalese arts for such a long period, it is all too easy to unthinkingly accept the notion of a generic Ecole and to dismiss it as a misplaced nationalist movement; a moment in history. Whereas, what one should really do is to analyse the interrelationship between the Ecole de Dakar and the works of today, recognizing that the personal and artistic histories of Senegal's artists are intricately bound up with this legacy.

As the art scene matures with the expansion of

patronage opportunities and the beginnings of an internal market, it is helpful to note that much of the rhetoric of Abdou Dioufs government refers back to the days of Senghor's patronage and continues to cultivate, with much less success, the idea of state as protector of cultural patrimony and as the agent of the Senegalese artist in his or her search for a market and recognition beyond Senegal.29

Each of the artists discussed below addresses

issues of identity, whether they be personal or group, and incorporates visions of African, Senegalese, or ethnic cultural traditions in his work, just as those of the Ecole de Dakar did. However, he does so not for a nationalist agenda but as part of the process of developing and exploring a personal expression.

Viye Diba's words are a plea to be seen as an individual at a time in which the arts and artists from

the continent are caught in an ideologically charged space created by the theories of postmodernism and the legacies of Senegalese art history and patronage. Because of Senghor's strong patronage, Senegalese arts were stereotyped at home and abroad. Further- more, a fixed relationship between the state and artist, in which the state saw itself as the defender and definer of the Senegalese artist, resulted.

Postmodernist critics interpret arts and artists from Africa by adopting a false sense of universalism which is fueled by the celebration of human differ- ences. What this approach does, however, is ulti- mately create a situation in which an artist from the 'periphery' is required to represent a whole people, nation, continent or race, rather than his or herself.30

Each artist discussed here deals with these de-

mands in different ways. All three work in the multiethnic, cosmopolitan city of Dakar and find patronage at home and abroad. Their careers span the years from the 1970s, when Senghor's patronage was still strong, to the present day. Not only have they lived through much of Senegalese modern art history, they have been the creators and shapers of that history, often seeking to redefine the identity of the artist and his relation to the power structure. In their development of personal aesthetics, each has opened the field of art history in their country and added another account and layer of interpretation to all that has passed.

In his works, Viye Diba marries the mediums of sculpture and painting, employing the discarded materials he finds in his neighbourhood on the out- skirts of Dakar. He wraps and knots strips of cloth around and sometimes through his canvases, sug- gesting a three-dimensionality of form. These works are sombre, created through a thick layering of shades of rose, grey, green and blue. But the muted palette of the works does not render them lifeless. On the contrary, Diba's images are filled with move- ment and texture. His use of multiple materials and repetition of vertical strips of canvas, encourages the viewer's eye to move around the image and suggests the aggressive stance the artist takes during the creative process (Fig. 1).

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Fig. 1. Viyie Diba: 'Artist prepares canvas at his studio in Grand roff' 1994. Dakar, Senegal (Photo, Elizabeth Harney).

Throughout his artistic career, Diba has been con- cerned with the relationship of man to his environ- ment. His early works, in the 1980s, were figurative, often taking the stories of marginals in his society as his subjects and visualizing their pains and suffering in a burst of bright colours and expressionist brush- work. Several years ago, Diba's materials, method, and approach to his works changed considerably. He describes this time as a period of 'obsession' with the debates on the identity of African art and the African artist.31 He explained:

I heard people saying, 'that's African that's not African; when you paint like that, it is Western.' The problem was that I did not fit in the scheme. So I decided to stop work- ing for three months and reflect and, starting from what I was doing [then], to find an alternative route that suited me. So, during this period of observation, I went to the museum everyday. I passed before the masks and statues and I examined them closely, I questioned them with my gaze. In fact, I wanted to uncover and understand this necessity to have an 'African soul,' without having neces- sarily to copy these objects, I wanted to situate them in my cultural sphere; these were the kind of questions I was asking myself...32

Through this process of reflection Diba found a way in which he could deal not only with current

attempts by others to define his 'authenticity' as an artist of Africa but also to return to the Senghorian discourse of a shared ame negre. He saw his investiga- tions of African traditional arts and culture in

relation to those followed by the Ecole de Dakar, making a clear distinction between the earlier artists' copying of visual forms and his new approach of reinterpreting the forms on a conceptual level. Thus, the structure of his newer works is based upon how he saw the structure of traditional statues. In these

traditional images, he noted that the manner in which the sculptor proportioned the body and laid emphasis upon rhythm and a closeness to the earth, resembled the movements in African dance. This

rhythmic quality was highlighted by a strong sense of verticality.

The words he uses to describe the sculptures in the museum are used again to describe his own works. His own creations often have a soaring space at the top of the composition and a cloth wrapped and knotted securely around the bottom which draws the eye downwards and around the image. Diba also refers to the knotted wrap as the esthetique kangourou because it produces a pouch in which the work can sit. His division of the canvas into repetitive vertical sections underscores the feeling of spacious- ness and rhythm. In his 'Rhythme Kangourou',

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Diba produces a fetish-like image in which roughly hewn pieces of wood are encircled by strips of cloth. Bits of this cloth form small pouches into which are stuffed multicoloured shreds of material. The

pouches are then sewn together by fibre cords. The strips of cloth, or pagne (wrap-around cloth worn by women), look like bandages, at once concealing and protecting the pieces of wood beneath them (Fig. 2).

One could view Diba's works as a moder rendi-

tion of Senghor's esthetique africaine, but they conjure up only faint memories of the earlier forms and speak strongly of the conditions in the surrounding metropolis of Dakar. His productions do not refer back to traditional sculptures in the same nostalgic manner as those of the Ecole de Dakar but, instead treat them as fuel in his search to represent and shape his world.

In creating this new aesthetic Diba also recon- sidered his approach to his materials, drawing again from the manner in which he believed traditional

practitioners related to their works. He explained:

in contrast to the West, in Africa, the support as support does not exist; the material is also the support. What's interesting is to question why the support has become the material? Because it is not neutral, it is active/participa- tory. For me, it's not a question of copying masks, because I am not living the realities of these masks.

Fig. 2. Viyi Diba: 'Rythme Kangourou' 1993, wood, canvas, nails, andprinted cloth, 120 X 37 cm. Collection of artist, Dakar, Senegal (Photo, Elizabeth Harey).

Rather, it's a question of visualising how, in relation to my formal preoccupations, I can reuse materials and give new value to them, elevate them to the dignity of a work of art.33

In his choice of local materials, Diba joined a number of other Senegalese artists, working in the generation after the height of nationalist fervour and Senghorian patronage, to call into question the supremacy of imported canvas and oil paints and the distinction made between and separation of the arts. During Senghor's time, a hierarchy of visual arts came into being. Painting, literature, and theatre were all given full attention, while sculpture, music, comedy, and dance were more poorly supported.34 Diba's working of materials, in which he often layers his paints to produce a rich, thick, and antique- looking surface, refers back to the rich, encrusted patinas he observed in the museum, and mocks the Western collectors' penchant for antique surfaces and muted colours.

Diba is also active in the political side of the arts, serving as a vocal leader in the artists associations (ANAPS), which have, since 1985 been responsible for organizing the national salons and, more recently, the Biennale of 1992.35 His teachings at the Ecole nationale des beaux-arts give Diba the opportun- ity to encourage younger artists to research and work with new materials and new modes of expression which move far beyond the earlier teachings of the same institution when it was the testing ground of Senghor's cultural development plans.36

Serge Correa, a young, Catholic, Casaman;ais recently graduated from the Ecole nationale des beaux- arts where Diba teaches.37 Correa came to art school

after receiving his Masters degree in Mathematics at the University of Dakar. During his time at the University, his mentor was cultural historian Abdou Sylla whose own work focuses on the artistic tradi- tions of the continent.38 Remarking on Correa's mathematical and artistic interests in graphics, Sylla encouraged Correa to look at the history of African scripts and graphic traditions. Serge Correa began reading the works of Senegalese historian Cheikh Anta Diop whose investigations sought to reinterpret and reexamine the writing of European scholars on Africa's history. In works such as Nations Negres et Culture (Paris, 1954), Diop attempted to use langu- age as a means through which to trace the move- ment and histories of individuals throughout the African continent.39 He wrote:

I realized that the cultural personality of a people ... was made up of three interrelated factors. The psychic factor. The linguistic factor. The historical factor... Hence my efforts were geared towards the restoration of the linguistic and historical personality of black Africans. My cultural research was scientific rather than poetic, I realized that out of the three components of the cultural identity, only two could be apprehended scientifically, i.e. the linguistic and historical factors ... I also worked towards the restoration of our common historical past by

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attaching primordial significance to the oldest and most accomplished civilisation elaborated by black African peoples: ancient Egypt!40

In Diop's investigations Correa saw a way in which to explore historical and formal issues in his artworks. Starting with the study of Egyptian hiero- glyphics as both image and word, Correa began to look to other parts of the continent, closer to him, to find similar graphic traditions. In his search he came upon the Wai language of Sierra Leone and began to work its components into his pictorial landscapes.4'

His latest works are very large, multicoloured, often multi-part compositions, separated into four or five diamond-shaped frames which can then come together to form a whole or can stand on their own. Like Diba's, Correa's compositions are often 'bottom-heavy' with a series of architectural ele- ments which resemble ancient ruins, stacked upon one another in the bottom half of the canvas. Atop and interwoven through these architectural forms, one finds the delicate, curvaceous script of the Wai. Correa describes his aesthetic as 'mid-way between abstraction and realism' and as an interpretation of man's historical evolution from ancient schematic

imagery to realism. This young painter often develops a sketch for

future paintings on his computer before he takes his brush to canvas and has developed a mathematical explanation for the elements of the Wai script (Fig. 3). While fresh from art school, Correa has had enormous success in Dakar, winning the presi- dential prize for best work of art at the recent Bien- nale and obtaining a solo exhibition at the Galerie Nationale in Dakar, immediately after graduation. Correa's work is interesting to consider in light of Ima Ebong's characterization of the Ecole de Dakar, as an aesthetic of 'semi-abstraction'.

e`i%tf

Fig. 3. Serge Correa: 'La Danse de la Lune' 1993, oil on canvas, 140 X 160 cm. Collection of artist, Dakar, Senegal (Photo, Elizabeth Harney).

Correa's and other artists recent interest in Diop, illustrates a renaissance of ideas in Senegal, where individuals now tend to look beyond the earlier accepted realms of thought in an attempt to reflect upon the history of their continent.42 Correa's interest in Diop's work does not seem to stem from a search for an 'Africanness' or an 'authenticity' he feels he has lost or needs to prove. Rather, he is inter- ested in the historical links and development of graphics systems throughout the continent.43 Many of Correa's successful exhibitions have been connected with worthy causes of one form or another. He sees his role as an artist as a perfect opportunity to bring attention to the needy, hence his recent exhibit in conjunction with the celebration of international lepers day or his work with the Village SOS, a Dakar orphanage. He has, through association, reached an audience of wealthy patrons and benefactors, who purchase his works, knowing that half the monies will go to the charity in ques- tion. Serge Correa's artistic career casts the identity of the Senegalese artist in a different light because he seems able to control his patronage and often works with an agent, Khallil Carlos Fall, one of the few individuals in Dakar serving such a professional function.

Mixed media artist El Hadji Moussa Babacar Sy has always been concerned with freeing the artwork, artist and critical discourse from conventions

imposed by the patronage of Senghor and the legacy of the Ecole de Dakar. As he declared at an exhibit

he shared with Senegalese sculptor Andre Diop, at the French cultural centre in Dakar, 1979:

I have chosen, in effect, to break decisively with the estab- lished tradition which consists of writing according to the pictorial guidelines which became commonplace in the aftermath of the 1966 Festival of Negro Arts. I deliberately mark this rupture with an aging generation in my desire for honesty and for sincerity with respect to my works. The process and the materials used converge with the spirit of creativity in trying as much as possible to liberate painting from the stylistic, academic yoke which assails it.44

El Sy attended the Institut national des arts senegalais during the 1970s, when the Ecole de Dakar was at its height, and became a skilled muralist. His personal experience vis a vis the structure of Senghorian patronage points to the problems associated with the label of the Ecole de Dakar. He has supported him- self through his artworks since graduating from school by taking public commissions to paint murals in airports, restaurants and so on. However, he separates this activity from his personal artistic pur- suits. In protest to what he perceived as government interference in the arts and a codified, restrictive aesthetic, El Sy began painting only with his feet, and continued to do so for ten years until the state purchased one of the works at a national salon, at which point he ceased completely. He chose the foot as an artistic tool for several reasons. He began to

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reflect on the work of shoeshine boys in Dakar, whose determination, ambition, and persistence to walk all day, looking for customers was both admir- able and pitiful. His ambiguous feeling towards their plight prompted him to reexamine the use of his feet. The foot was universal and yet there would be no need to sign the works as his footprint was indi- vidual. He would walk upon the canvas, spread on the floor, and leave traces of the process as he moved off the canvas. He found this activity to be a perfect means by which he could 'kick' the invented tradi- tions of the Ecole de Dakar. The European pre- occupations, adopted by the Ecole de Dakar, with identifying the artist's hand and the notion of a necessary harmony between hand and eye in easel painting, could all be subverted by using his feet.

In the late 1970s El Sy was the first artist to squat in the buildings of an abandoned military camp in downtown Dakar, which would quickly become home to some eighty practicing artists and acquire the name, the Village des Arts. The importance of this voluntary artistic grouping, in a location that had not been officially provided by Senghor's government, was that it acted as a watershed, allow- ing practicing artists to take more control of their creative activities and unbridle themselves from the

yoke of state ideology. Amongst the artist studios at the village, one found the Laboratoire Agit-Art, an operational space in which artists from many differ- ent media could gather and exchange ideas. The premise behind the laboratory was that of 'agiteur', as an agent of provocation, in a country which had created under Senghor, 'une culture des caresses' and a 'cult of the beautiful' where art was meant to be

visually pleasing but not confrontational.45 Through the language of improvisational theatre, the artists in Agit-Art were able to break down conventional notions about art and artist in Senegal. For example, at the Village, which was located on a coastal road, many artists began to move beyond using imported materials to seeing the plastic qualities of the sur- rounding environment. Furthermore, in the labor- atory space all objects within it, be they animate or inaminate, became part of the whole. The distance between the artist and his/her artwork or between audience and actor was redefined.

El Sy opened his studio at the Village into a gallery, known as Tenq (which, in Wolof, means articulation) and gave his fellow artists a chance to display their works for a new, local audience who may not have ventured into the Musee Dynamique, galleries, or foreign cultural centres of the city. The Diouf government's closing of the Village in 1983, in which artists were forcibly evicted and their artworks destroyed, pointed to the uneasy relationship begin- ning to form between government and artists which continues to this day.46

El Sy continued his investigation of new materials beyond canvas and oil paints, to use jute rice sacks and nylon kite materials. In both cases his use of material refers back to an artistic tradition of Sene-

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gal. El Sy buys old sacks from a sack collector, opens them and sews them together with fibre string to produce a large surface for his compositions, many of which he paints with black tar and candle wax, as well as acrylics. These sacks give new life to used objects and produce wall hangings from materials other than those used to make the Thies tapestries. Because the tapestries of Thies had become, for many, symbolic of the Ecole de Dakar and the narrowness of Senghor's patronage, they were a perfect target for El Sy's experimentations. The expense and durability of the Thies tapestries are contrasted with El Sy's jute hangings which have a shorter life and have, occasionally, been sold by the artist at the cost of a bag of rice.

His use of kite material is newer, only beginning in 1993/94. He uses imported nylon which is expensive and difficult to find in Dakar, but the effects he gets from the opaque material resemble that of sous-verre, the practice of glass painting used in Senegal and the Magreb (Fig. 4). Although he does not paint on the inside of the material in reverse, as is the case with the glass, the luminosity of the images is very similar. El Sy views these kites, which he calls 'skites' (an elliption of sky and kite) as

Fig. 4. El Hadji Sy: 'Skites' 1994, acrylic on nylon, 180 X 30 cm. Private collection and collection of artist, London and Dakar, Senegal (Photo, Elizabeth Harney).

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a means through which to expand the audience for his works of art beyond the gallery walls. As with his work at Tenq, El Sy expands the audience for arts in Senegal which, during the Senghorian period, was limited to the elite. With his kites, he can fly his com- positions in the sky, hang them taut between poles on a gallery wall, or suspend them from only one wooden dowel, leaving the bottom ends loose to flutter in the Dakar breeze like all the laundry lines around him which make up part of his visual land- scape.

El Sy, like Diba, has been actively involved in taking charge of the interpretation of Senegalese arts. He served as the first president of ANAPS, during which time he organized national salons and staged an exhibition to protest against the Apartheid regime. He has been active as both curator and critic of his country's arts at home and abroad. Recently his efforts to free the Senegalese artist from restrictive categories, imposed from within and without, have come full circle with his involvement in the africa'95 programme of events. For this celebration of arts, El Sy reinvented his Tenq collective gallery/workshop space in St. Louis, Senegal, to allow for interchange between artists from throughout the continent, and has curated part of the exhibition, Seven Stories about Modern Art in Africa, at the Whitechapel Gallery, bringing the atmosphere of the Laboratoire Agit-Art to England. He had inserted his voice in the dis- course surrounding the interpretation of contempor- ary Senegalese arts through his co-editing of an anthology on the art history of his nation.

El Hadji Sy's career began in the Senghorian period of patronage and his history is thus inextric- ably linked to that of the Ecole de Dakar, if only by opposition to it. Sy's recognition of and comments upon this history have afforded him a freedom of expression, absent in the practices of his predeces- sors. Rather than acting as a codifying agent, the legacy of his country's art history has enabled Sy to push the artificial boundaries imposed upon artistic practice in Senegal. At this moment when post- modernist critics are, in fact, silencing rather than listening to the African artist, El Sy's voice is crucial to hear. In his artistry and in his critiques, Sy calls for a new form of interpretation - one which will deal with the ephemerality of materials and variety of practice now being used by many of his colleagues and will also acknowledge the importance of the art market and audience in Africa itself.

Likewise, in his work, Viye Diba consciously con- fronts the expectations of a foreign market while simultaneously addressing the lives of his fellow Dakarois with his choice of everyday, locally-used materials. His artistry and his assessment of his place within debates about African identity bring the dis- course surrounding these arts back to Africa and into the hands of the creators.

Correa, the youngest of the three, speaks of the possibilities for emerging artists. By making use of the historical sources and technological tools avail-

able to him, he creates an aesthetic which is purely his own, thereby reexamining his country's art history on his own terms. All three are deconstruct- ing the barriers imposed around them by Western academia and Senegalese rhetoric. Ironically, they are also achieving many of the dreams Senghor en- visioned by incorporating images, techniques, and ideas from a wide variety of sources and using their skills to reflect upon and shape their society.

It is worth noting that it is only recently that scholars have begun to consider the opinions of those whose works and 'identities' have been at the centre of debates surrounding labels and categories about the 'contemporary'.47 One Senegalese artist, addressing those who seek to label him, makes clear the importance of listening to the creators them- selves:

I am not between two worlds; I am not a hybrid - I am Moustapha Dime and I represent only me. I will not let anyone (in the West) imprison me in a little ghetto.48

I would like to thank the artists whose works inspired this

article: Serge Correa, Viye Diba, Moustapha Dime, Mohammadou Mbaye, El Hadji Moussa Babacar Sy, and Papa Ibra Tall.

Notes

1. 'The dear children without their father', Senghor often referred to artists as his 'chers enfants'.

2. Viy6 Diba, in Ousmane Sow Huchard, Viyi Diba: plasticien de l'environnement (Sepia Editions-NEAS, Dakar, 1994), p. 27. [Je ne me situe

pas dans une problemique essentiellement africaine. Pour moi, il n'y a pas un art

africain, il n y a pas un art sinigalais. Mon probleme n 'est pas de chercher a itre

africain, je le suis. L 'dme africaine est en moi etje n 'ai pas besoin de la porter en

bandouliere, d'en faire une obsession. ] My translation. 3. See recent exhibitions such as Out of Africa, featuring the collection

of Jean Pigozzi (Saatchi Gallery, London, 1992) or Africa Hoy (Centro Atlantico de Arte Moderno, Las Palmas, Gran Canaria, 1991), each of which glorified the so-called untrained artist and reenforced ideas of the African artist as both naive and intuitive. Furthermore, the debates

surrounding Magiciens de la Terre (Centre Georges Pompidou, Paris, 1989) and Africa Explores (The Center for African Art, New York, 1991) illustrate the continuing problems surrounding the interpretation of the African artist and his or her works in the 'traditional' Africanist and post-

modernist discourse. For further discussion of these problems see John

Picton, 'Desperately Seeking Africa, NY, 1991', Oxford Art Journal, vol. 15, no. 2, 1992 and Cesare Poppi, 'From the Suburbs of the Global Village: Afterthoughts on Magiciens de la Terre', Third Text, vol. 14, Spring, 1991.

4. Leopold Senghor formed part of a group of students from the French colonies who gathered in Paris in the 1930s to debate issues of identity and colonialism. Martiniquan poet, Aim6 Cesaire, is credited for having first coined the term 'Negritude' in his poem, 'Cahier d'un retour au pays natal' (Paris, 1939). Senghor defined the term as follows: 'N6gritude is quite simply the assembly of the values of the black civilisa- tion. It is not racism. It is culture.' Discourspronouncea l'Universitid'Oxford

(Oxford University, 1961). The theory had precedents in African- American debates about the 'new negro'. Many African-American scholars sojourned in Paris during this period, often contributing their ideas to cultural and political journals. For a discussion of the links between African-American discourse and that of the Negritude pro-

ponents see Ibrahima Kak6, 'The Impact of Afro-Americans on French- speaking Black Africans, 1919-1945', in Joseph E. Harris (ed.), Global

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Dimensions of the African Diaspora (Howard University Press, Washington, DC, 1982), pp. 195-205. The early debates surrounding Negritude may be found in cultural journals such as La Revue du monde noir and Presence Africaine.

5. This image of Senegal as a crossroads is quite important in under- standing not simply Senghor's rhetoric but also the thoughts of many artists at work in Senegal today. They constantly credit the multiethnic and international atmosphere of Dakar as an important factor in their work. In addition, St. Louis, Senegal, served as the capital of French West Africa during the colonial period and contacts between Senegal and sea-going nations go back many years as do the connections with Arab traders across the Sahara. The Wolof kingdoms were made strong by their control of trade centres and routes from land and sea. In Senegal, more so than any other colony, the French attempted to carry out their assimilationist policy, creating not just colonial subjects, but black Frenchmen. From the 1800s on, Senegal had representation in the metropolitan senate and the populations living in the 'four communes', Dakar, Rufisque, Goree, and St. Louis, could acquire French citizen- ship.

6. Leopold Sedar Senghor, 'Discours inaugural du President de la Repubilque: "Ni opposition, ni racisme, mais dialogue et comple- mentarite"', in Catalogue du Premier festival mondial des arts negres (Dakar,

31 March-7 April 1966) as quoted in Ima Ebong, 'Negritude: Between Flag and Mask', in Susan Vogel (ed.), Africa Explores (Center for African Art, New York, 1991), p. 203.

7. In the pages of La Revue du monde noir, among other sources, Senghor read the works of German ethnologist Leo Frobenius, Histoire de la Civilisation Africaine, 3rd. edn. (Paris, 1952) and Belgian Father Placide Tempels, whose work Bantu Philosophy (Presence Africaine, Paris, 1969) was unique amongst European writing about Africa in that it acknow- ledged the existence of an indigenous philosophy that could be investi- gated as would one of Europe. Senghor also drew upon writings of Freud and the Surrealists who spoke of alternative systems of thought and interpretations of reality. Senghor has often been criticized for his use of

Primitivist ideas, with which he was seen to be continuing rather than dismissing notions of the 'primitive' in Africa.

8. He wrote: 'Rhythm is the architecture of being, the internal dynamics which gives form, the system of waves which it sends out towards Others. It expresses itself through the most material, the most sensuous means: lines, surfaces, colours, volumes in architecture, sculpture, and painting; accents in poetry and music, movements in dance. But in so doing, it guides all this concrete reality towards the light of the spirit. For the Negro-African, it is in the same measure that rhythm is embodied in the sense that it illuminates the spirit.' Leopold Sedar Senghor, as quoted in Irving Leonard Markovitz, Leopold Sedar Senghor and the Politics of Negritude (Heinemann, London, 1969), p. 5.

9. His theory of a Universal Civilisation was based upon the writings of French scientist Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, who wrote 'the foyers of human development always seemed to coincide with the points of meeting and synthesis of several races' thus suggesting that it was through synthesis, not assimilation, that great civilisations were formed.

See Leopold Senghor, Pierre Teilhard de Chardin et la Politique Africaine (Editions du Seuil, Paris, 1962).

10. Kwame Anthony Appiah, In My Father's House: Africa in the Philosophy of Culture (Methuen, London, 1992), p. 253. Ezekiel Mphahlele, 'Remarks on Negritude' at the Conference on African Litera- ture, Faculti des Lettres, University of Dakar, 1963, in J. L. Hymans, Leopold

Sedar Senghor: An Intellectual Biography (Edinburgh University Press, Edinburgh, 1971), Appendix VI, pp. 281-5.

11. Art instruction in twentieth-century Africa have been character- ized by two schools of thought. First, there were those who believed in a

laissez-faire approach, fearing that formal instruction would destroy the natural and unspoiled talents of the African artist. Examples of this approach include the teachings of Frank McEwan, in the former Southern Rhodesia, Pierre Romain-Desfosses, in the Belgian Congo, Ulli Beier in Oshogbo, Nigeria, and Pierre Lods, at the Poto-Poto school in the Belgian Congo and then in Dakar. Those who believed in the

second approach, formal instruction, based their programmes on the formats of European Fine Arts Schools. This approach was character- ized by Margaret Trowell's teaching at Makerere University in Uganda, the teachings in the Sudan, or those of Iba N'Diaye in Dakar. In the teachings of its two original departments, Dakar's art school was an interesting mix of these different approaches.

12. He once claimed: 'when one leaves the European schools of fine arts, one spends the next ten years of life trying to undo these learned habits ... One has to do exactly the opposite of classical education.' Papa Ibra Tall, in 'Tapisseries de Thies', African Arts, vol. 3, no. 2, Winter, 1970, p. 61.

13. Marshall Ward Mount, African Art: The rears Since 1920 (Indiana University, Bloomington and London, 1973, reprint 1989), p. 85.

14. Art Negre et Civilisation de l'Universel (Les nouvelles editions africaines, Dakar/Abidjan, 1975).

15. See below, in the section on multimedia artist El Sy, for a discus- sion of one of these unofficial groupings of artists.

16. The museum is now closed and currently houses the supreme courts of Senegal. Appeals are still being made for its reopening.

17. Leopold Sedar Senghor, as quoted in Ousmane Sow Huchard, 'The Musee Dynamique', in Friedrich Axt and El Hadji Moussa Babacar Sy (eds.), Anthology of Contemporary Fine Arts in Senegal (Museum fur Volkerkunde, Frankfurt am Main, 1989), p. 57. On the occasion of the 1966 festival, the Musee Dynamique was host to the largest exhibi- tion to date of 'classical' African arts ever to be held on the African con-

tinent, with works borrowed from more than 52 museums and private sources worldwide.

18. Travelling from 1974 to 1984 to places are far apart as Brazil and Japan, this exhibit was repatriated at the end of each venue. After a period of two or three months in Dakar, during which older works were replaced with newer ones, it moved to the next location. The costs of this endeavour are estimated to be at least 4 billion CFA or 80 million French

Francs. The insurance and transport were paid for by Senegal (the presidential airplane was used). Interview with M. Amadou Gueye Ngom, Dakar,Senegal, April 1994.

19. If collectors showed interest in a work during the exhibition, the artist would be responsible for fixing the price and would receive all the money paid. However, sale was not the agenda of the show. Alioune Badiane, Director of Arts Education, Ministry of Culture, Dakar, Senegal, personal interview, May 1994.

20. Leopold Sedar Senghor, 'Introduction', in Friedrich Axt and El Hadji Moussa Babacar Sy (eds.), Anthology of Contemporary Fine Arts in Senegal (Museum fur Volkerkunde, Frankfurt am Main, 1989), pp. 19- 20.

21. Issa Ramangelissa Samb, 'Criticism of Representation', in Friedrich Axt and El Hadji Babacar Sy (eds.), Anthology of Contemporary Fine Arts in Senegal, p. 129.

22. Issa Ramangelissa Samb, 'The Social and Economic Situation of the Artists of the "Ecole de Dakar"', in Friedrich Axt and El Hadji Babacar Sy (eds.), Anthology of Contemporary Fine Arts in Senegal, p. 118.

23. Papa Ibra Tall, personal interview, Thies, Senegal, March 1994. He referred to poets Aime Cesaire, Leon Damas, Leopold Senghor, and the editor of the cultural journal, Presence Africaine, Alioune Diop.

24. Papa Ibra Tall, 'Tapisseries de Thies', African Arts, Winter 1970, p. 63.

25. Ibou Diouf, personal interview, Dakar, Senegal, May 1994. 26. Ima Ebong, 'Negritude: Between Flag and Mask', in Susan Vogel

(ed.), Africa Explores (Center for African Art, New York, 1991), p. 202. 27. Ibid., p. 209. 28. Ibid., p. 202. 29. For example, in his inaugural speech for the 1992 Biennale, Diouf

spoke of Senghor's successful 1966 celebration and of Dakar as a cultural

crossroads. In the catalogue of the latest travelling exhibit, Art Sur Vie (La Grande Arche de la Defense, Paris, 1990) organizers Ousmane Sow Huchard and Alioune Badiane spoke of continuing the agenda of Senghor's 1974 exhibition, Art senigalais d'aujourd'hui. And, on the occasion of the opening of a Galerie Nationale, Diouf compared this new institution to the Musee Dynamique, built to host the contemporary and traditional arts exhibits at the Premierfestival mondial des arts nigres.

30. It would be interesting to compare Seneghor's ideas of 'Civilisa- tion de l'universel' to those of postmodernism in an attempt to under- stand how both, in the end, silence the artist and use the artwork to further an ideology.

31. Viye Diba, personal interview, Dakar, Senegal, April 1994. He referred to problems with the agenda of Magiciens de la Terre and Africa Explores as well as the bias of French critics such as Pierre Gaudibert.

32. Ousmane Sow Huchard, Viyi Diba: Plasticien de l'environnement (Sepia-NEAS, Paris, 1994), p. 22. [J'entendais des gens dire: 'fa c'est africain, fa ce n'est pas africain; quand vous peignez comme fa, c'est occidental.' Le

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probleme, c'est que je ne me retrouvais pas dans ce sclima. J'ai done decide

d'arriter trois mois et de reflechir a partir de ce que je faisais a la possibiliti de

trouver une autre voie, une voie qui me soit propre. Done, pendant cette piriode

d'observation, j'allais tous lesjours au Musee. Je passais devant les masques, les

statuettes etje les observais attentivement, je les interrogeais du regard. En fait, je

voulais dicouvrir et comprehendre cette nicessite d'avoir une ime africaine, sans

pour autant forcement copier des objets, et situer cela par rapport a ma prob-

lematique culturelle; c'est vraiment a ce type d'interrogations queje me livrais. . .

My translation. 33. Ousmane Sow Huchard, Viye Diba: Plasticien de l'environnement

(Sepia-NEAS, Paris, 1994), p. 24. [Contrairement aux Occidentaux, chez nous, le support pour le support n'existe pas; le materiau est en mime temps

support. Ce qui est intiressant, c'est de se demanderpourquoi le support est devenu

matiriau? Parce qu 'il n 'est pas neutre, il estparticipatif. Pour moi, il ne s'agitpas

de recopier les masques, parce queje ne vis pas les realitis de ces masques, mais il

s'agit de voir par rapport a mes prioccupations plastiques comment je peux recupirer des matiriaux et les valoriser, les ilever a la dignite d'oeuvre d'art.] My translation.

34. A number of reasons for Senghor's ranking of the arts have been given. Artist El Hadji Sy claims that painting was important to Senghor because his patronage was based on the premise that a large body of'fine art works' would be available quickly, to be shown when needed at inter- national functions. The painting process was considered more rapid than any other. Artist and philosopher Issa Samb suggests that Senghor's choice reflected practical political concerns. As a Catholic president of a largely Muslim country, which at the time of Independ- ence, as now, was largely controlled by maraboutic fortunes in the hinterland, Senghor did not want to offend the powers that be by promoting sculpture and suggesting a return to paganism. Finally, others have suggested that his preferences were simply a reflection of his assimilated cultural self. As a highly educated evolui, Senghor was a Francophile and saw painting as the highest form of European fine arts.

35. The first artists' association was founded by Papa Ibra Tall in the late 1970s and was known as ARPLASEN (Artistes Plasticiens du Senegal). The current association, ANAPS (Association Nationale des Artistes Plasticiens Senegalais) acts as an advocate for artists via a vis the Ministry of Culture and as a national network through which artists can meet and exchange ideas.

36. The Ecole des arts de Senegal (EAS) became the Institut national des arts du Senegal (INAS) from 1971-1977. In 1977 the Institut became the Ecole nationale des beaux-arts (ENBA).

37. The Casamance is the southern region of Senegal, separated from the rest of the country by The Gambia. Its population did not convert to Islam to the same degree as did the Cap-Vert region to the north, in which Dakar is located. Because of its distance from Dakar and St.

Louis, the two largest cities in the north of the country which have both been the seat of political power, the Casamance has maintained a distinct sense of identity and has been involved in a struggle for succession for a number of years.

38. See Abdou Sylla, Criation dans l'Art africain (Universite Cheikh Anta Diop, Dakar, 1988).

39. Other works include, Anteriorite des civilisations nigres: Mythe ou

viriti historique (Presence Africaine, Paris, 1967) and L'unite culturelle de I'Afrique Noire (Presence Africaine, Paris, 1960).

40. Carlos Moore, 'Interviews with Cheikh Anta Diop', in Ivan Van Sertima (ed.), Great African Thinkers, Vol. 1 (Transaction Books, Oxford,

1986), p. 268. 41. The Wai or Vai live in a coastal area north-west of Monrovia,

Liberia and extend into Sierra Leone. They speak a Northern Mande

language which is closely related to Mandinka and Bambara. The southern regions of Senegal, from whence Correa comes, are also home to Mandinka speakers. The Vai language was created by Mamalu Duwalu Bukele (d. 1850) in the 1930s and first attracted scholarly attention in the later part of that decade. Its modern form consists of two hundred odd characters and is still widely used for correspondence. Soon after its creation, the inspiration for which Bukele claimed to have received in a dream, the script was supported by the king, Fa Toro, and went into immediate use. Its use of pictograms and ideograms may have been based on existing local traditions of graphic symbolism. See S. W. Koelle, Outline of a Grammar of the Vei Language ... and an account of the

discovery and nature of the Vei mode of syllabic writing (London, 1854).

42. Sculptor Moustapha Dime and filmmaker Ousmane Sembene are two other examples.

43. While the works of this prolific scholar are well-known abroad, especially given the recent attention to Afrocentric theoretical writings, his impact upon the cultural milieu in which he worked was surprisingly weak. This situation was due, for the most part, to the rivalry between Senghor and Diop. Senghor's theories had the presidential palace and government money to back them. Diop was one of the early critics of the Negritude cultural programme which he saw as too poetic, having no base in scientific fact or methodology.

44. El Hadji Moussa Babacar Sy, Exhibition supplement (Galerie 39, Centre culturel francais, Dakar, 1979). [J'ai choisi en effect de rompre resolument avec la bonne tradition qui consiste a crire selon des exigences picturales

devenues vulgaires au lendemain du Festival des Arts Nigres de 1966. Je consomme delibiriment la rupture avec une gene'ration vieillissante, par souci

d'honneteti et de sincirite a i'egard de mes oeuvres. Les moyens mis en oeuvre et les

materiaux utilises concurrent c l'esprit de la creativit en essayant leplus possible de

libirer la peinture de ses carcans stylistiques, academiques qui I'assaillent. ] My translation.

45. See the article by Ima Ebong, 'Negritude: Between Flag and Mask', in Africa Explores (1991) for an excellent discussion the relation- ship between the Laboratoire Agit-Art and the Ecole de Dakar.

46. This government action caused a great rift between many practis- ing artists and the new government of Abdou Diouf. The reasons for the Village's closure have never been fully disclosed or understood. Some suggested that the neighbours complained of noise coming from 'unruly artists', referring to the Village as a veritable 'tour de Babel' (Interview with a former resident of Village). Others have suggested that the Diouf

government wished to distance itself from the cultural policies of its predecessor and found the Village a perfect opportunity to make this clear. The Diouf government did reduce the budget for culture and closed the Musee Dynamique, handing it over to the supreme court. Its reasons may also have been financial given that it came into powerjust at the time when Senegal adopted the IMF and World Bank structural adjustment programmes.

47. Recent attempts to hear the artists voice are found in Thomas McEvilley (ed.), Fusion: West African Artists at the Venice Biennale (Museum of African Art, Prestel, New York and Munich, 1993) and the new series of edited volumes on Senegalese artists published by Sepia- NEAS, Paris. The journals, Third Text (based in England) and NKA: Journal of Contemporary African Art (based in New York) also allow artists

to express their views. 48. Moustapha Dime, personal interview, Ile de Goree, April 1994.

[Je n 'existepas entre deux mondes; Je ne suispas un metis - Je suis Moustapha

Dime et je suis riprisentatif de moi-meme. Je ne veux pas que les Occidentaux

m 'emprisonnent dans un petit ghetto. ] My translation.

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