When you are bearing arms that can spit fire and death Continue reading
The Sound of Silence, a major installation work by acclaimed New York based artist, architect and filmmaker Alfredo Jaar. Jaar’s works often address issues around how Africa is represented in the media. This particular work takes, as its point of departure, South African photographer Kevin Carter’s Pulitzer Prize winning photograph of a starving child being stalked by a vulture in Sudan (2006).
Worn: Shaping Black Feminine Identity
Few (if any) of these people rallying for ol’ Cecil have shown their public concern and care for Zimbabweans (beyond stifled jokes about the country being mismanaged and some such “woe is Zimbabwe and her faceless people” type jibes). I’m not asking that they do, but that they don’t is quite telling.
Amidst all the white noise, it’s become apparent to me that a lion, as you must already know, is more valuable than any Zimbabwean. Me included. Continue reading
Flying nuns & multicoloured zebras: today’s best African art
Ethiopian princes in exile, boxing champs and ‘Friendly Zulus’ … these previously unseen images of black people in the Victorian times show colonialism in all its contradictions
Here is a roundup of the posts about art & the artists discovered this Spring:
(click on any picture & use the link in the caption -or- list below the gallery)
RIP: Chinua Achebe [1930-2013]
“Africa is to Europe as the picture is to Dorian Gray—a carrier onto whom the master unloads his physical and moral deformities so that he may go forward, erect and immaculate. ”
If you look at the world map on Google, for example, Africa doesn’t look that much bigger compared to China or the United States. In reality though, it’s a lot bigger. Kai Krause scales countries by their area in square kilometers and then fits them into a Africa’s borders for some perspective.
You might be forgiven for thinking they had turned out to greet Nelson Mandela. A huge noisy crowd, complete with dancers and drummers, gathered at the entrance of Abuja airport in the Nigerian capital at 0530 in the morning.
But not to greet a great statesman, nor even a rock star, but a 79-year-old writer: Chinua Achebe. Africa’s greatest novelist was returning home to Nigeria for only the second time in 20 years.
We had been warned about the rock star treatment. The last time he came, tens of thousands of people packed a football stadium to hear him speak.