Tuesday, February 20, 2007

Lothar Bottcher | South African Glass Artist

Lothar Böttcher | September 2006


Lothar Böttcher, Ignus Gerber & Justice Mokoena

“The lighter side”

In Lothar Böttcher’s sculptures glass becomes the focal point. Through glass the artist aims to manipulate and in a sense capture light. He attempts to make the viewer aware of the surroundings within the glass. Creating lenses, he offers a point of view (abstractly), changing perspective and observation of the contiguous space.

Böttcher asks whether we really observe or understand our role in the world around us due to filters like beliefs and personal experiences. Everybody has a unique point of view. The variables are infinite.




“Without light there is no subject. Without subject (particles and waves) there will be no light. Call it the “Ubuntu” of the Universe. There’s a funny side to existence if one thinks of everything as black and therefore invisible, until there’s light! Until it happens…” – Ignus Gerber

“Sound is capable to create various environments transporting the listener into a virtual world. Sound cannot only be heard, but can be felt and even seen, creating all kinds of possibilities. Just close your eyes and see the light within”- Justice Mokoena

Mokoena is strongly influenced by his ancestral background and native language, Lobedu. Since his youth he has been fascinated by various sounds from all walks of life. The artist attempts to use these sounds to communicate to others his perspective in life and a unique cultural background.


Source | http://saartsemerging.org/artist/rainforest/

Friday, February 16, 2007

Eria Sane Nsubuga | Uganda



The Source: The Weekly Observer
http://www.ugandaobserver.com/new/ent/ent2007020112.php

A Piece of ‘Sane’ Art

For a young artist in Uganda, Eria Sane Nsubuga is doing well. Recently, the 28-year-old held his fourth solo exhibition sponsored by Alliance Française and held at their premises in Kamwokya.

Nsubuga does paintings, sculptures and illustration print-making in books or magazines. The exhibition attracted an enthusiastic crowd that included French Ambassador Jeremy Garrancher who bought himself a bicycle made of brass.

The jovial Nsubuga began commercial art in 1999 at the age of 20. Nsubuga's work isn't the abstract art that is hard to understand.

He says he's inspired by nature and human activity and most of his paintings and sculptures are of flora and fauna.

"People here want to buy art pieces that are overtly explainable. It's European customers that want the complicated art work. That's why my art is plain and simple."

Gospel music is also part of his inspiration as he reiterates his strong attachment to church work among the youth in Entebbe where he lives. Knowing this, it isn't surprising that he plans to release a gospel music album this year.

"I have been learning the guitar and I am mastering it now. It's for this reason that I want to sing too," he laughs.

Classical music, Bebe and Cece Winans keep him company late into the night in his workroom at home as he thinks up new ideas and draws.

Presently, Nsubuga has two European art collectors who buy his pieces and re-sell them. Also, he has made himself a website www.saneart.com and www.africapainters.com on which his pieces can be seen and ordered for.

Author John Vianney Nsimbe

Etona | Angola



Artist Etona on Exhibit at the Altharetta Yeargin Museum

The work of Antonio Tomas Ana, better known as Etona, was featured in an exhibit held November 4 - 12 at the Altharetta Yeargin Art Museum in Houston, Texas in celebration of the 30th anniversary of Angola`s independence. The artist who was present at the opening is well known within his native Angola and has made a name for himself in the international world of art as well. His work has been exhibited in varied venues including the Park of the National Museum and Gallery in England, and the Museum of Africa in Cuba. He has been honored by having his work selected for the Best of African Painters Collection and was awarded The International Prize of Fine Arts by the Aznar Association in Spain in 2005.

The work on display at the Altharetta Yeargin Art Museum was made up of the two major media in which he chooses to work, sculpture and painting. His sculpture is primarily in wood with a few smaller pieces in stone while his choice of painting media is acrylic.

His paintings are of moderate size and show a consistency in style, color and composition from one canvas to another. The majority of canvases feature a thinly painted background made up of areas of flat color divided by narrow lines that allow the white of the canvas to show through. Using an asymmetrical composition a group of human figures may be painted into one of the lower corners of the painting. These will often be monochromatic and, in contrast to the flat background, are carefully modeled to show the depth and shape of the figures although facial features are often omitted. The subjects of these paintings are people from his country in traditional garb engaged in every day tasks such as transporting baskets of produce on their heads or a mother with her children. But these scenes of everyday life are small in relation to the background and are always placed in one corner or another as though they are not really the actual subject of the painting.



In viewing these paintings one feels an emptiness as though the artist has deliberately under painted the richness of his country through choosing to use flat unmodeled and undetailed backgrounds. To add to this impression of emptiness, content is moved to one corner or side with little color or definition provided. In speaking with the artist and reading his statements about his art, we know the pain and sadness he feels about the exploitation of his country and his people. These deep feelings of grief seem well illustrated in the choice of subject matter and composition of his paintings.

Etona`s sculpture, on the surface, presents a different story. In its elegance and beauty it seems a celebration and homage to the long and rich heritage of African sculpture. Most are made of hard woods and are worked to show a high polish and glow. On some of the pieces he has left areas of roughness created by nature or insects or accident and in the same piece may be a beautifully sculpted head with detailed hair and features.

He seems a virtuoso with wood. The pieces may twist and writhe in much the same way as branches grow on trees but at the same time they take on human forms that fit with the movement. Some pieces are completely naturalistic in detail while others are left deliberately unfinished or without detail as though the artist wishes the viewer to stop and ponder on the reason for this inconsistency. Some very interesting ones even reflect themes of African art of the past but these have been brought into the twentieth century with new subject matter and detailing. But, as in his paintings, the sculpture too expresses Etona`s concern for his people and his country. Perhaps none more so than the two small stone figures that seemed to represent strong figures trying to emerge into their own identity much as the country of Angola is trying to do as it gets past its years of being exploited by the strong world powers and becomes a nation with its own identity..

Dr. Phyllis Knerl Miller
Professor Emeritus
University of Houston

Thursday, February 15, 2007

Iraqi Artist Living In Tunisia | Samir Nanoo

Meeting the Artists in Tunisia

Last week I was in Tunisia after deciding last minute to take a short break to start out the New Year. Forever dreaming of seeing more of Africa I thought it best to bite the bullet and hook up with some remarkable African artists. Of course I was thrilled and excited by the prospect of being on African soil again. Once more living amongst the Creatives, those known and unknown, all working tirelessly, struggling to be heard. I found, to my delight, that it was a fantastic choice and finally I was living amongst the original, "Vandals" of North Africa. They made me feel truly at home.


The original inhabitants of Tunisia were the Berbers, now absorbed into the Arab population and accountable for much of its culture, especially the introduction of the, now, national dish, "Couscous". The first cities in Tunisia were built by the Phoenicians, a maritime trading nation from the Lebanon, whose Carthaginian colonists carved out an Empire that even dared to challenge the might of the Romans. The challenge ended in the destruction of the Phoenicians and a Roman invasion. The Romans left behind more than just ruins such as the mosaic delights found in the destroyed city of Carthage and the majestic amphitheatre of El Jem, also the intriguing lion eating men of Haidra, now the Algerian/Tunisian boarder town. The Romans established Tunisia's original infrastructure and introduced the olive and cork trees that dominate the countryside even to this day. Tunisia has had it fare share of invaders from the Roman, the Turks, the French and even Islamic invaders yet instead of becoming cultural schizophrenics there is a definite strong sense of National identity. Tunisia is very proud of the country's moderate Muslim outlook and also the country's unique interpretation of the Koran and seems extremely confident in Tunisia's position within the world of Islam.My journey starts in Monastir, a former fishing port on the Sahel coast. The town is infamous as the birthplace of the first President of Tunisia, Habib Bourguiba - 20th March 1956 (Tunisian Independence Day). On arriving at the airport the air was surprisingly cold and one could detect a pleasant scent of the sea and fresh citrus fruit ripening on the branches. Following a quick tour of the town and the Golden Statue of Habib, I jumped on a bus and travelled up the coastal road to a small town just outside the capital, Tunis, the beautiful hideaway known as Hammamet. On the one and half hour journey up to Hammamet the scenery was magnificent, breathtaking in fact, with lush green mountains on the left, warm dusting roads and beautiful views out to the Mediterranean Sea, to my right. Personally, I was surprised at the level of development the country has experienced since Independence with new roads; petrol stations; street lighting and the overall upkeep of the central Squares throughout the country were immaculate. Strangely the Tunisian don't have an abundance of natural resources like neighbouring Libya and Algeria but still the country has a 5% development growth year on year. Ironically, with figures like these within a decade of two Tunisia is likely to become more developed than France.

Hammamet in January is a rich, fertile yet sleepy town waiting for tourists, money and the heat of Spring. Everybody was busy painting, whitewashing their shops; restaurants and guesthouses. They pay little heed to the ramblings of the occasional tourist at this time of the year. Hammamet itself, houses some of the best contemporary artists in the country.My first port of call was to see Baker Ben Fredj and his wife Nadia at their art gallery in the town centre. I spent several days talking, thinking, photographing, eating, walking and drinking expresso coffees and large whiskeys with the Ben Fredj's. Baker introduced me to his famous artistic neighbour Abderrazak Sahli, the best-known artist in Tunisia, who constantly travels between homes in Paris and Hammamet. The time spent with the two artists and their family's was most enjoyable but I was greedy to meet more Tunisian artists, especially those from the capital, Tunis. Baker and Nadia encouraged and insisted that I meet up with the President of the Union of Artists in Tunis. The man in question was Baker's University lecturer and friend, Sami Ben Ameur. They rang Samir on his mobile and we were to meet the following day. That evening I went to bed remarkably early and woke refreshed ready for the day ahead. Subsequent to an atrocious German breakfast, consisting of beetroot, hard-boiled eggs and watery cabbage, I uncomfortably left the hotel and proceeded to stuff myself into an awaiting yellow taxi, which took me to the Louage (local bus station) finally heading forthe capital. Firmly carrying my newly bought bright orange satchel I squeezed into the tightly packed minibus and after a matter of minutes it quickly filled up and we were well on our way. The sights on the way up to Tunis were wonderful. The sun was beating rhythmically overhead and the grandiose mountains loomed over the minibus outstretched to the horizon, casting unruffled shadows to those below. The mountains were full of seasoned trees alive with greenery while, the cool, fresh, clean sea breeze blew in from the coast. We arrived in good time and I was eager to make my way to the heart of the city. Nadia had kindly given me an art catalogue from the Union of Tunisian Artists, which I rapidly produced out of my new beige camel satchel on arrival in Tunis. I clambered out of the minibus and swiftly leapt into another yellow NYC style cab and in my best French asked the driver to take me to Maison de la Culture Ibn Khaldoun, El Magharibia, Rue Ibn Khaldoun. Of course the driver couldn't understand a word I was saying and I ended up hot, sweaty, fed up and furiously pointing at the address on the back of the catalogue. The driver smiled, shrugged his shoulders and took me into the city centre. The two of us silently sat nervously side by side, perpetually puffing away at out cheap Mars Light cigarettes, smoking rapidly to avoid conversation with the occasional eyebrow lift followed by an awkward smile. Oddly enough this was probably one of the most enjoyable drives of my trip. As I went to open the car door the driver handed me a notebook and asked me to leave feedback. So I did and wrote, "Thoroughly impressed with your communication skills. Full marks for the driving and if smoking becomes an Olympic sport this driver should be put forward for Team Tunisia."

I arrived at the Union building mid morning and made my way to the top floor. By the fourth floor I was sweating profusely and panting like an unhealthy aging mutt and by the fifth the Union had literally taken my breath away. Red faced and resting both my arms on the doorframe I seemingly barred all natural light from entering the room. I attempted to introduce myself. Finally, I made a rather pathetic whispery introduction to two exceedingly glamour ladies sitting quietly at their desks, astonished by my behaviour."Hi, my name is Joe. I'm from England. Is Sami Ben Ameur here?" I airlessly gulped.Confident that I had made an extraordinary first impression I continued by puffing out my best pigeon French. The women looked blankly at each other then back at me. Silence; and after a short and uncomfortable pause I eventually and sheepishly resorted to my trusty catalogue and the furious finger pointing technique. I tried to explain about the efforts I had made on the Internet with various websites about African Painters, whilst at the same time trying desperately to explain about the importance of MySpace and YouTube but to no avail. While I was ranting, kneeling on the floor and fumbling around with the women's computers trying dreadfully to bring up numerous websites an elderly man wearing glasses on his forehead entered the room. He opened his case, brought out a pen and calmly started inoffensively to write notes. This charade with the gorgeous women and the congenial gentleman onlooker lasted a good ten minutes, explaining what it was that I did, have done, would like to do scenario. In due course the old man quietly took his glasses off his forehand and carefully brought them down onto the bridge of his nose. He slowly lifted his head and put his hand to his mouth and clearedhis throat with a polite cough. After a dramatic pause he articulated in perfect English. "What is it that you do exactly?"I let out a surprised laugh and shook my head, I briskly introduced myself and promptly returned with, "And you are, Sir?" he abruptly replied and spoke with the confidence only an aging artist has, "Well, I am the Iraqi artist, living in Tunisia. Samir Nanoo. Nice to meet you!"I recognised his name immediately as he was a featured artist in the catalogue and I had been speaking about his work with Baker and Abderrazak in Hammamet.




"Wow, Nanoo. Samir Nanoo. Really it's an honour to meet you," I shamefacedly replied.

Together, we went out of the office and took an interesting tour around the gallery with artworks randomly placed all around the room, some good, some not so good. As we wondered between the different artists we spoke candidly about the quality of the artwork and the general state of contemporary art in the country. I enjoyed the man's company and when he invited me for a coffeeoutside I was delighted to accompany him to the nearby local café. Samir told me he was born in 1944 in Iraq and moved to Germany seventeen years ago and he had chosen Tunisia to make his Arabic home for security reasons. We talked about his son and how he was an Oman in England and he told me how he had brought him up to be clear-headed and quintessentially good and how proud he was of him. I reached into my bag and pulled out a camera to make a record of our meeting. He stood fantastically grand and egotistical as I photographed him in a rather public place. "He, an artist!" I explained and to Samir delighted followed with, "Don't you recognise the artist?"People looked askance as we swiftly made our way out of the café. We made our way onto the busy Avenue Habib Bourguiba between Place de l'independence and Place d'Africque, which is a typical French style tree lined avenue, with an effective tram system running up and down along with plenty of angry, hooting drivers. We stood in the middle of this confusion and spoke about Samir's new work. He withdrew a series of images from his black
workbag.













As he showed me the images he explained the news he had received from Baghdad. He quietly explained to me that the inmates in the American prison in Baghdad, who were there under suspicion of terrorism or anti-establishment behaviour, had been given no rights, no freedoms of expression, no liberty, whatsoever. The prisoners were treated as the true enemy and were tortured and some even died. Many of the inmates weren't criminals or terrorist, weren't even anti-establishment in anyway, mere civilians. They knew that they being bullied and used as scapegoats. Infuriated by the incarceration, some of the inmates in a moment of despair felt that the only thing they had left to do was post their views on the walls of their cell. They decided to cut their legs and arms with their own fingernails and to use their own excrement to post messages back to their families and loved ones with their fingers. They cut and smeared through the night sending love and well wishes to their friends and family members. The cells were awash with desperate Arabic script displayed curiously on the walls.Come the morning the American Guards saw the cells and shouted;

"You filthy Arab! You filthy Arab, bastards! What have you done, you filthy bastards? Are you expecting us to clean your filthy mess? Ahhh…what can WE expect from you dirty Arabs..……?….You dogs…You low-life Osama Bin Laden loving scum."

Throughout the day the Americans tortured the prisoners and over a series of several weeks the noble American soldiers systematically killed their so-called terrorist hostages. Their thinking was; "the fewer the better."When the dust settled and the bodies were taken from the cells a Muslim Oman came to pick up the dead from the cell. He stood in the room stunned. He looked carefully at all the walls, studying vigilantly what graffiti was written. Attentively reading all that had been seemingly smeared onto the walls. Tears started to fall down the Oman's cheeks as he read the smeared Arabic script.




Firstly he read:


"Ismail. My only son - As your father I want you to be the best a man can be!"….


Then beneath read – "Fatma, I have loved you from birth, find happiness and a good man. Love Daddy."



Then below– "Brother Yusuf. I love you . Remember me always!"


And finally – "Mother. Here is your son. I love you and will forever love you. Father don't forget me! Your son Omar."


The Oman walked out of the prison, tears streaming from his cheeks. As Samir finished his story, he too had tears welling up in his eyes and said, "I was so touch by these messages that I felt duty bound to speak out on their behalf", and he continued to show me his interpretation of the graffiti on the cell walls. Picture by picture. Samir's work is so extremely important and needs to be seen and spoken about.It is only now when I have return to the comfort of home that the full impact of his story hits and continues to hit me. What are we doing in the name of Democracy? What a mess we have gotten ourselves into?……




















African Painters | The Artists

Here are some of the artists I have met our would have liked to meet. They are heroes each and every one.


Take a closer look at the work of these African heroes.