FABRIC
AND THE IRONY
OF AUTHENTICITY
• • •
YINKA SHONIBARE
My practice as an artisi (leáis priinarilv willi tlic oiigoing
discourse around identity. In the 80's a lot of artisi engaged the
issue o identitv in their work and were also influenced by
poststructuralist theorv and feminist tlieorv; artists like Keith
Pi])er and Sonia Bovce in Üie IJK niade work about identity,
(;iiidy Shertnan and Barbara Kruger in America touched on
feminist issues in their work. It was against the background of
the influence of contitiental theory and deconstnution tliat iny
own career evolved in the early 80's. There was also a lot of
pressure on me to produce something autlientic. Tliis is a bit of
a trap, because, if yon refijse you are seen to be in denial, and,
if vou complv von are seen as being coiilincd lo your i)asl. It is
essential at this |)oint to give a sense of my own hybrid identity
and mv background as it is the basis of mv practice. I ain a
¡)roduct of the post-colonial |ierio(l. I was born in 1962 in
Kiigland to Nigerian parents, two years after Nigeria gained its
independence froni Britaiti. Although 1 was born in Brilain, I
grew up in Lagos and later returned to Britain to <()ni[)lete my
education. It is therefore normal for me to switch between
cultures. I grew up speaking Yoruba at home and speaking
English at school, as Elnglish is the language of office in Nigeria.
Post-independence África in the 50's and 60's anticipated
a lot of change froni the colonial era. A lot of Africans who had
been educated in Europe sought to créate new "African"
identities, thus raising notions of Negritude and Pan Africanism.
In the assertive drive to créate a non-European identity, it was
felt that identity had to be expressed culturally in people's
lifestvle and dress. It was quite normal for niy father, who is a
lawyer, to go to work in a weslern suit and change itno
something more "African' when he got home.
My own sense of culture evolved out of what I watched
on televisión, the music I listened to, the people 1 knew and
AA
what I read and the obvious impact of a post-colonial history.
I grew up watching local comedv programines like "Baba
Sala", Australian programmes like "Skippy", American ones
like the various Walt Disney animation series, "Hawaii Five-
0", etc. I sang "London Bridge is Failing Down" as a child in a
setting where London Bridge could not possibiy have fallen. I
listen to the music of Felá Kuti, James Brown, Sugar Hill Gang
and King Soni Ade. I read Shakespeare, Charles Dickens, Wole
Sovinka and Chinua Achebe at school. I am a Post-colonial
hybrid. The idea of some kind of fixed identity of
belonging to an authentic culture is quite foreign to my
experience.
I do not necessarily like the word hvbrid because it
suggests the notion of some outside purity. I do however see
that I am in one sense a product of an evolving concept of
culture. When I returned to Britain to study, I was amused by
the various forms of ethnic essentialisms in the extent at which
people of African origin are expected to be "authentic" in spite
of all the different cultural influences. At coUege I encountered
the unpacking of grand narratives in the writings of Edward
Said, Roland Barthes, Jacques Derrida, Gavatri Chakravortv
Spivak and Homi Bhabha, My various experiences led to the
development of an eclectic art practice.
My earlv work was largely influenced by seeing the use of
compositional fragmentation in painting, particularly in the
work of David Salle, Polke and Jean-Michel Basquiat. 1 made a
series of painting I now refer to as The Argos Seríes. In these
paintings I combined images of African masks which I had
picked up from the Museum of Mankind, with images of
commodity objects like coffee makers, hair dryers and
Philishaves from Argos catalogues.
In 1990 1 developed another way of questioning ideas
about cultural authenticity. I started to use "African" fabric
purchased from Brixton Market in my work. Batik, which is
. commonly known as "African" fabric, has its origins in
Indonesia and is industrially produced in HoUand and
Manchester for export to África, where it is made into
traditional dress. The aoption of the fabric, praticularlv in Vi est
África, has led to the development of local industries which also
manufacture fabrics. For instance, there began a sort of
commisioning system between África and Manchester. If there
was an important occasion, like the visiting of a Presidetu, thev
could actuallv have their portraits incorporated in the design of
the fabric, and the fabrics would be printcd in Manchester and
distributed in África. In my own practice, 1 have used the
fabrics as a metaphor for challenging various notions of
authenticity both in art and identitv.
In the piece Double Dutch, I replaced canvas with
"African" fabric in an installation which consists of -ÓO panels.
I paimed organic patters on the fabric which altérnales
between the front and the side of the panels. The [)aiu'ls wer<>
installed on a colourful shocking pink backgroiuid. Other
works are Sun, Sea and Soiind, which ('onsists of 1,()()() bou Is
wrapped in "African" fabric set onto a seablue floor. The idea
for this piece is based on the double image of África. When we
watch the news about África, it is usually about starvation.
henee the metaphor of the empty bowl, but the advertisments
for Kenva are of an idyllic place for hollidays. How (loes a girí
like yon get to be a girí like youy consists of three Victorian
dresses made in "African" fabric, and for the exhibition
"Imagúied Cominunities" there are five 18th centurv corsets
iTiade oul of "African" fabric suspended from the ceiling.
Corsets are garmerUs that would have been worn bv inemhers
of the 18th century aristocracy who were largely resf»onsible
for the African diasj)ora. They also signify excess and ÍVivolity
at the same tune. They address the (juestions of the ""other".
not only as victiin but as seductive and exotic. Just as the
introduction of the colour and design of the fabric challenges
the high art and popular culture divisions in the white space of
the gallery, my practice of painting is trying to [)iish, as lar as I
can, the idea of spontaneitv and seduction. 1 cali this the
political sublime.
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