African Curators and Contemporary Art

Notes and responses to the Sao Paulo Letter

Olu Oguibe

Translation into Swedish by Jan-Erik Lundström. Text may not be quoted without acknowledgment, or reproduced in any form without prior knowledgment and consent of Olu Oguibe.

On June 25, 2000, I wrote a letter addressed to the director-designate of the 25th Sao Paulo Bienal, Mr. Ivo Mesquita, on concerns and reservations regarding the place of African curators in contemporary art. The letter, which is reproduced in full here, was also circulated to the international art community with the intent to underline the fact that the concerns raised therein had less to do with Mr. Mesquita as an individual biennial director or curator, than with pervading predilections among curators, directors of institutions, and others in positions of power and responsibility in the contemporary art world. It was important to me that these reservations be raised publicly, and with directness and clarity, so that the equally pervading illusion that we've made much progress with openness and receptivity across borders of race, creed, and provenance in contemporary art may be dispelled. Even more so, it was my hope that such a public deposition may resensitise us to issues and questions that we now often ignore or take for granted in the mistaken belief that as cultured participants in contemporary history we are inherently disposed to be tolerant, civilised, or fair-minded, and therefore unlikely to replicate those evils of segregationism and narrow-mindedness that plague the less enlightened. As I noted in an earlier conversation among curators [conducted for the Phaidon exhibition-in-a-book, fresh cream which I co-curated], the evidence of the moment speaks to the sad reality that in our society today, and certainly in contemporary art, the cultured are in no way exempt from the iniquities and inanities of the rest.

Of course not one and all, but the great majority of players in contemporary art cannot escape this charge. The American intellectual W. E. Du Bois noted in his book, The Soul of Black Folk at the turn of the last century that "the problem of the 20th century is the problem of the color line." Quite regrettably, the same could be said without equivocation, of the 21st century. No doubt we have brought the sins of the past into the present. Obviously, human transformation has little to do with dates and numbers. Attitudes may metamorphose from the blatant to the subtle. Glaring divisions may become more hidden. Yet, the application of difference as a disabling paradigm remains entrenched in much that we do or pursue as a species.

Following the circulation of my letter, many issues were raised by respondents, some cogent, others rather moot or mistaken. Some of the more pertinent questions I hope to address in these brief remarks.

One of the earliest responses was from Mr. Mesquita himself, who argued that in constituting the curatorial team for the 25th Sao Paulo Bienal, the overriding concern was not the origins of particular curators but rather their professional abilities, their relevant experience, and their association to the theme of the Bienal. In buttressing this point, Mr. Mesquita seemed to imply that a curator does not become better equipped because of, but rather in spite of, their provenance. In another response, a correspondent who shared Mr. Mesquita's position claimed that a prominent African curator had once observed in discussion, that the facts of his origins do not affect his curating. All of which appear unarguable, but only on the face of it.

For one, Mr. Mesquita's claims for the experience and expertise of his team fail to hold true, if only for the reason that those of his experts who were given the responsibility to locate and recommend African artists for the 25th Sao Paulo Bienal, were obviously sufficiently lacking in expert knowledge about African artists that they turned to African curators for information. In other words their so-called expertise did not extend to African artists and their practice. True, such lack of knowledge is not at all unusual among international curators, but perhaps it does make the point for provenance as a relevant element of the curator's make-up. It is at best tenuous to argue that anyone's vision, position, abilities and approach to life or their profession--be they curators, scientists, or astronauts--could be extricated entirely from the peculiarities of their personal history, central to which is their origins. One could argue--and this is a point that many of us have made consistently, a point that is at the very heart of my letter--that one's abilities as a curator are not in the least diminished by the fact of one's provenance. Yet this is a point that is easily misunderstood, for while it posits that difference [read provenance] does not constitute justifiable grounds to dismiss or disparage anyone's curatorial or creative ability, the key word here being ability, it nevertheless does not imply that difference has no bearing on how we look at the world or what we bring to our work as cultural practitioners. In other words, it does seem somewhat mischievous to argue that certain curators may be dispensed with because culture of origin is irrelevant to curatorial vision. It is a twisted tactic to argue that it does not matter whether someone is an Asian curator or Latin American because his or her origins or background are of no immediate or discernible cogency to a curatorial theme or concept, for the latter cannot be entirely true. As individuals we are not only what has happened to us; we are also all that we carry with us. A curator who was born in London and has lived there all his life may be very competent, even excellent as a curator, but his experiences--and therefore his vision--will no doubt differ from those of another who has lived and practiced on three continents. A male curator may be vastly read and almost infallibly sensitive and liberal in his views and practice, but his sensibilities and vision will undoubtedly differ in some respect, no matter how subtle, from those of a female curator.

It also happens that in our world of narrative ellipses and consequent struggles for reinsertion and registration, a non-European curator is likelier to exhibit a deeper commitment to acknowledge non-European contributions to contemporary culture, general or thematic, than most European curators. Besides, in most cases such a curator is also likelier to possess a certain familiarity with practice in their provenance than the other; to know the artists and their work better, to relate to them more closely, even to have access to a deeper, clearer understanding of the questions and ideas at the heart of their preoccupations; to "tune into" the work better than others. While this is not always, and perhaps ought not be the case, it certainly is the pervasive situation at the present. To all intents and purposes, we live in a segregated world where, for instance, the rest may know the West but the West seldom knows the rest, and within the rest only a few know enough beyond their own little home territories. Therefore, in forming collective curatorial visions, regardless of how narrow or specific the theme, it makes sense to acknowledge and if possible confluence these variegations and apparent points of access rather than ignore or dismiss them. To argue that "expertise" or "interest" is all that matters in curatorial practice is not only poorly informed even somewhat inane, it also avoids the issue.

Some have suggested rather cynically that the letter of June 2000 advocates representation by quota in international curating. I should of course point out, as those who take the time to read the letter carefully would observe, that this is not exactly accurate. Having said so, I believe that it is important to equally note that, irrespective of the pervasive and ultimately damaging desperation today to recoil from all that is vaguely liberal or radical, despite the current, contemptible fashion of equating silly conservatism with hipness and level-headedness, there is in fact nothing essentially evil or despicable about quota. Equity devices such as quota and guaranteed safety exist to address inequities and inconsistencies that otherwise persist in our social and cultural relations. They exist to stay our institutions from the precipice of blatant prejudice. In that ideal world of the future that we may never achieve should we continue in our present attitudes, where merit, fairness, and commonsense govern the affairs of men and acknowledgment is guaranteed wherever appropriate, remedial devices such as quota would of course be redundant. Unfortunately we do not inhabit that Utopia yet, and wherever quota and other such policies exist, it is not out of foolery that the state has introduced them to ensure that all are guaranteed access to the opportunities and possibilities that their talent and abilities commend. The fact that such essential policies are poorly observed in the cultural space does not speak to their irrelevance or undesirability, but more so to the enduring philistinism of the space itself, and to its overwhelming subscription to a politics of denial.

In effect, though neither the arguments made above nor the intent and content of my letter prescribe that every international curatorial committee specify a quota of representation, or that only curators from a particular provenance present artists from same provenance, nonetheless a profession so thoroughly lacking in integrity and standards as contemporary art curating has been, certainly has little moral authority to scoff at such prescriptions. For as long as most curators are stuck in the manholes of their own immediate worlds, be they geographical or racial, it is impossible to form truly international curatorial visions without involving as many others as possible. It matters little what inflexion or register is applied to it.

And now a little digression: one other issue that some respondents to my letter latched unto and paid rather undue attention, is the contention that what matters most is not whether we involve African curators in international exhibitions and curatorial initiatives or not, but what they do with the opportunity. I consider the argument not only irrelevant to the issues raised in my letter, or indeed to the wider issues of narrow-mindedness and bigotry in contemporary cultural practice, I deem it equally mischievous. It does matter whether or not we reach out and involve African--or indeed other curators--in international exhibitions where the intent or pretense is to build a broad international vision. It does matter whether or not we work from a basic understanding that there are people out there who also have something to contribute, people who may possess knowledge that we are not privy to, who may bring perspectives and sensibilities that enrich our collective experience. It bloody well matters whether or not we keep ajar the doors to so-called international cultural arenas, whether or not we acknowledge and include the contributions of others in our anthologies of contemporary culture and thought, whether or not we depart from the twisted conviction that West is best. To shift the posts is to be disingenuous, and that is what happens when the argument moves from this fundamental premise, to the question of what individual curators do with specific opportunities and challenges. The latter does matter, of course, but the issues are not to be confused or conflated. Neither should be used to displace the other.

To retort that what matters is what African curators do with opportunities is to be dismissive in the extreme. It also implies that we either know or expect African curators not to deliver. All of which is without sense.

One may not conclude these remarks without mention of the reminder that many were keen to make in response to the June letter, namely that when African curators or cultural practitioners are excluded from so-called international forums and arenas, it does not necessarily indicate ill-intent or premeditation on the part of whoever is responsible. In other words, a curator or biennial director who proceeds without sufficient thought over the presence or absence of Africans or others does not necessarily mean ill and therefore deserves a benefit of the doubt. Very well, I say, but that may well be the greatest terror of our condition, which is that many are wont to ignore or fail to acknowledge African curators and cultural practitioners without giving it as much as a thought. First, an act is no less injurious for the fact that it is one of omission rather than commission. Second, whenever a questionable or negative attitude is so deep-seated and entrenched that it is indulged in without second thought, which is to say that it becomes second nature, then its implications and inherent dangers become incalculable. The novelist Chinua Achebe noted long ago that this is indeed the state at which the West has arrived, at that juncture where it no longer has to erase or ignore others consciously, but as a matter of fact. It is a terrible world where this is the case. That it is the nature of our shared condition as cultures struggling to acknowledge one another, even to co-exist, is a tragedy indeed.

Oguibe

London

January 2001