Art Worlds in Ghana

Outside the Artists Alliance

I met with the artists for selfish reasons, because I wanted to, because it was amazing to meet these creative people and see their work. Still, I used the opportunity to set up contacts for the JAC and ask the artists if they could help us out on our upcoming projects. Many of them said they would be happy to come work with the kids for a session – to teach them about art, and for the kids to see what it is like to be a professional artist. When we have an auction with the children’s work, it will help to be able to say that, say, Larry Otoo was involved.

It was these artists and institutions that gave me hope about the art world in Ghana. The art I saw was so vibrant and beautiful, so clearly full of talent, that it made me wonder why we don’t have more contemporary Ghanaian and African art in our museums and institutions. We have plenty of old carvings and artifacts, but where are the Larry Otoos and Kofi Setordji’s inside the MOMA or Metropolitan walls? Not to mention the African museum walls?

The artists I met with told me I have to advocate them when I go home, not realizing that just because I am American does not mean I have any real influence. I will do what I can to spread awareness of Ghanaian art in my small world, and maybe it will reach some big ears. I can hope.

I just read Holland Cotter’s review of the African Art Museum of the SMA Fathers in New Jersey, which is one of only three African museums in the country. Cotter is exuberant about the wooden carvings and masks, but rightfully points out that there is more to African art than this, even though it’s what we usually see in museums — there is also metalwork, and guess what, gold-weights too!

I could not help from shaking my head as I read the words. Where are the Ablade Glovers, the Wiz Kudowors? What about all the contemporary art and painting in Africa, where’s that? I plan on writing to the SFA to see what they think of my buddies over in Ghana.

I’ve mentioned Professor Ablade Glover before. He is quite a fellow – he runs the Artists Alliance Gallery, which is better than the National Museum: four sumptuous floors of the most gorgeous Ghanaian paintings and sculpture. Fancy funeral caskets in the shape of fish and Nike shoes grace the ground floor, along with George Hughes and Larry Otoo paintings. As you travel up, you see all kinds of work: unusual wooden sculptures, jazzy Motown ladies, tranquil water images, vibrant color canvases, and African market scenes both traditional and quirky.

Professor Glover and Larry at the Artists Alliance

Professor Glover made the Artists Alliance when there was no place for contemporary Ghanaian painters to show their work. He created a space and community for the artists, and he began to draw the attention of people from the west. Wiz points out that this should not be the ultimate goal, but unfortunately the pattern has been that success tends to reach Ghanaian artists when they gain recognition in the west. In any case, it is no small thanks to Professor Glover that many of his artists have a following all over the world.

The man’s own work is amazing: textures of blossoming yellow trees, and blue ladies with a tilt to their chins and attitude in their hips. The man himself is wonderfully kind and accessible, especially considering he is perhaps the most successful painter in Ghana. And also funny. So funny. He is busy, but he will always make time for you.

In the outskirts of Accra down a little lane of white houses and palm trees lies Larry’s studio. It’s just a room on the left side of his house, crowded with easels, flecked brushes, and jars of imported paint. Grand and colorful paintings line the walls and overlap each other. There are figure paintings, jazzy musician scenes, and then the works Larry is known for: layers and layers of rainbow colored akwaaba fertility dolls and other adinkra symbols. The closer you look, the more you see: the shape of a bird, a woman’s face, a new line of symbols.

Larry and I had fun taking pictures on self-timer in his studio.

Larry is known for his vibrant use of color, though recently he has been experimenting with black and white. I love his brighter pieces, but I am also taken by his all-gray canvases embellished with a single shade of gold.

The first time I visited his studio, I was sitting on his couch flipping through his old photographs, when he approached me with a little plate of cheese crackers and a green bottle of Alvaro pear soda. That evening, Larry walked me back to the tro-tro station, but it wasn’t the last time we would see each other. He would call every once in a while to see how I was, and I started to consider him a friend. Before I left Ghana, I went back to his studio one last time bearing lik-lak’s, a chocolate drink that comes in a sachet, to make up for my lateness (Ghana traffic…).

With his daughter Naa.

The Tuesday morning that I left, I was at Kotoka International airport washing my hands in the bathroom, when I heard the “doo-doo-doo” of my cheap cell phone. It was Larry, calling to say goodbye.

After I hung up, I left the bathroom and headed over to my terminal. There I saw a display of familiar-looking bright paintings. I went over to look at the plaque: Larry Otoo.

Everyone says the art world in Ghana is down in the dumps. The government doesn’t fund it, schools hardly teach it, and the market for it is practically nonexistent. In some secondary schools, I’ve read, subjects like agriculture, economics, and management can even count as an art credit.

Larry Otoo at the Artists Alliance in Accra (shh you're not supposed to take pictures)

When I first got to Ghana, I was seriously disheartened by the lack of art or innovation in daily life around the city. I come from New York, where there are world-class museums, galleries in every neighborhood, coffee shops with poetry readings, guerilla art on graffitied garage doors, and sculpture in the tiles of subway walls.

In Ghana, you can count all the museums in the country on, well…three hands. The Accra National Museum is frankly pathetic. It has two large rooms and zero contemporary art. You’ll see posters for parties, clubs, and casinos all over the city, but pity the fool looking for the whereabouts of the art scene.

There is plenty of tourist art. Men hawk paintings and wooden carvings on the street. You can find bracelets and beads anywhere. But the vendors are just trying to make a buck, and they give the tourists exactly what they are looking for. Each work is like the next; there is no innovation.

And it’s no wonder. How can people afford to be interested in art when many of them are struggling just to put food on the table? Coming from New York prices, I smiled to myself when people would complain, “Ghana is expensive-o!” But it’s true: compared to wages, living expenses are very high. If your child says he wants to be an artist, you are going to worry how he is going to eat or support himself, let alone a family. There is no Williamsburg, no obvious community of artists to reach out to, and the government sure won’t support your projects.

After my first few days in Accra, I spent a month in a village, where the concerns of the art world left my mind. Then I came back to Accra in July, and I found my initial perceptions most wonderfully shattered.

The government might not do anything for art, but the artists are doing it themselves. There are a number of established artists, all of them friends with each other, most of whom have their main market in the West, who are taking steps to foster the art world and create a space for art in Ghana. They have their own galleries, their own gatherings, their own followings. They support themselves, and some of them support the next generation of aspiring artists too.

I befriended a number of the top artists in Ghana simply by contacting them (email, Facebook, phone) and asking to visit their studios. I found them through George Hughes, a well-known Ghanaian painter and performance artist currently in upstate New York who came to Haverford last semester for the symposium Look Both Ways (organized by my prof Ruti Talmor, who does anthropology work in Ghana). I ended up acting in George’s performance at Haverford last minute, playing a sort of golden nymph in a strange ritual. Anyway, he recommended a few of his artist friends in Ghana to get in touch with, and these people slowly chipped away at my perceptions and worries.

So I met Larry Otoo, Kofi Setordji, Wiz Kudowor, and Ablade Glover, all amazing artists who have found great success despite the lack of support for art in Ghana (though many did, luckily, have the support of their families). Larry is one of the gentlest and kindest Ghanaians I have met and became my dear friend. Kofi runs an incredible art space for the public and teaches the next generation. Wiz makes warm, gorgeous paintings and speaks sharply on the Ghanaian art world. Ablade, well, is the most renowned painter in Ghana and founded the Artists Alliance, which I personally think should be considered the national museum.

Get a taste of my adventures with these artists in the coming posts…

Thursday, July 8

I’m sorry I’ve been so absent from the blog again. I’ve been busy settling into Accra, and when I was in the village, I ran short on money toward the end and there are no banks there, which meant no Internet café for me.

(Getting sick is fun in an isolated village, where there are no doctors past 2 pm and they run out of malaria test kits at night, you don’t have any minutes on your phone, and internet is nonexistent except at the one café which you don’t have money for. It was just a fever as I suspected, and I woke up in the morning feeling fine, but you’re supposed to be safe and get tested. Going to the hospital clinic at 7 pm in a car with Euphemia and Kofi, wrapped in a blanket with my hair flying everywhere, and no help available at the clinic, was, umm, an experience. I’d been dreaming of white-washed walls, that over-sanitized hospital smell, and bathrooms, oh, bathrooms. Foolish me to think the clinic would be any different from the rest of the village. Which, don’t get me wrong, I love, but still it’s a lot to get used to.)

Anyway, now I’m in Accra, but first I have to fill you in on Ada.

My last days in the village were perfect. There wasn’t much class because the kids had sports competitions during the day (just with their own school, cause the government postponed the village-wide ones as you’ll soon read). I was just hanging out with the kids, getting to know them, then in the afternoons running play rehearsal. They discovered my camera and had quite a time taking pictures. They taught me some Dangme, the local language (“study hard,” they said), and I would talk with them about home or ask them about what they want to do when they’re older. We would just chat, and I tried to fill in some of the huge gaps in their current events knowledge. I told them that they should study hard and apply to Haverford, cause we have some Ghanaian students. Justice and Andrews, two of my kids from the play, even wrote down the name of my high school. Justice said he wants to email them and say he knows me so he can make friends? Haha okay…

In a way I feel I accomplished more with them outside of class. I could give them individual attention, and we didn’t have those stupid rows of desks. In class, I was always subbing for just one day, with no lesson plan, no idea what they’ve studied before, and little chance to follow up on the lesson. When I would just talk with them, they would crowd around me in a big circle, and they all wanted to be there. It was relaxed, but I think we both learned more.

Meanwhile, I’ve been in Accra. At the JAC, I’ve been looking into grants and working on proposals. Outside the office, I’ve met with some of the top artists in Ghana – Larry Otoo, who is awesome and took me to his studio; Ablade Glover, who is pretty much the number one artist in Ghana (perhaps Africa?) and runs the Artists Alliance, and amazing collection of contemporary Ghanaian and African art that I told him sure beats the National Museum; and Ato and Adwoa from the Foundation for Contemporary Art (FCA), which promotes young artists and stimulates (/makes) the young contemporary art scene. My professor Ruti Talmor, who does anthropology work on art in Ghana, has actually done some work with the FCA. I’m going back to the village each week to work on the play, which is still going on. We had a dress rehearsal just before I left, are having another one today, and will have performances next week and the week after.

And the rest of time in Accra has been busy, busy, busy. I came here knowing basically no one, but I’ve made some friends at the hostel and met some of their friends, and Kelvin knows people, so there’s always someone around. Last weekend I saw Naa from Haverford and Debbie from Bryn Mawr. It was great to see familiar faces, and we had an amazing lunch at Naa’s aunt’s house (tilapia, stew, banku, rice, chicken, and mango). Professor Jesse Shipley was in town to film the Black Stars’ arrival. I went to the airport too, but I just missed Jesse. As for the Black Stars, they hopped right onto their bus so you could barely see them, but it was cool to be there. Yesterday I went to the Holiday Inn pool bar with Kelvin and some friends, and guess who was a couple tables away from us…the Black Stars coach. With his wife and translator. She was wearing a light purple top and some great heels.

Whew, so that’s Accra for you. Loud, crowded, and a million people bothering you, but exciting and plenty to do. Now, back to Ada.