At the Institut National des Arts

On Friday I gave a presentation of my research at the Institut National des Arts (INA) at the invitation of a Professor of Theater. The topic of my talk, which was entirely in French, was “The Influence of Bakuba Art in the United States.” The audience of about 40 people was split between students and professors, some of whom are affiliated with the sponsoring center, CEDRA (Centre d’Etudes, Documentation, et Recherche sur les Arts). The school, which is located in a former hotel, has 1,000 students in three departments--theater, music, and arts administration. (The third category accounts for 70% of their enrollment, much to the chagrin of the creative folks I met.)

To show the images, I have a powerpoint presentation on my laptop, and borrowed a projector and screen from the US embassy. The INA building is pretty limited in terms of electricity, if not ingenuity. The electric supply in the room consisted of two stray wires hanging out of the ceiling. Someone then connected a standard outlet to these wires, which I then connected to the embassy’s extension cord and projector, and voilà. We were in business.

My presentation was largely about visual art--specifically the influence of Hampton University’s Bakuba collection on artists in the US. Since I knew the artistic background of the audience was a bit different, I spoke a little bit of the history of African music and other performances at Hampton (such as pageants from the 1910s to 1930s that featured the traditions of the school’s Kikuya, Ndau, Zulu students).

Many of the questions were ones I have been asked before--how do the artists who produced this work benefit from its esteem? This is a question without a satisfying answer. Even though its presence in Western museums theoretically enhances the selling price of many pieces, it remains clear that the large majority of artists and communities are not making money. I know that the Bakuba are now trying to sell a royal costume to bring electricity and running water to the capital city of Mushenge; the king asked for my help (which says something about how desperate they are). There was a question about repatriation, which, as I replied, it is a question for the Congolese people to decide. Governments and museums should honor this decision. Stolen and sacred objects should be returned. This is clear. It seems to me that there needs to be other solutions as well, based of what artists, their descendents, or the national councils want. I’d like to propose a few possibilities. The US, in conjunction with museums, could donate American masterpieces to African museums. Actually, this could be done in terms of long-term loans, and the status of African works “owned” by US museums actually be converted to a similar status of “long-term loan” in which financial compensation is provided to the artist (or her descendents) if identifiable, or otherwise to the community (in the forms of schools or infrastructure). I am glad that there are opportunities to see African art in the US, even though the provenance of these objects is part of a profoundly tragic history. Clearly there needs to be reparations.

The case of the Sheppard Collection at Hampton, which I study, is unique. There is substantial evidence that Sheppard did not wantonly pillage. (For example, the most valued objects he describes were not part of his collection but ended up in Belgium.) I don’t want to sound like an apologist. Because none of this should change the right of the objects to be returned. Hampton is not especially wealthy and does not charge admission, which means that there is limited revenue that could be shared.

Other equally provocative questions suggested that Bakuba music might circulate in the US in ways similar to the visual arts that I am documenting. This was an excellent question because Lucy Gantt Sheppard, who was a former Fisk Singer, spent nearly 20 years in Central Africa. After she returned to the US in 1910, she spent more than 40 years directing a Presbyterian Church choir in Louisville, Kentucky. I don’t know of any recordings of the choir; there may be sheet music (admittedly an unreliable indicator of live performance) that warrants study. I get great feedback from artists when I share my work with them.

After my presentation, I had a soda with some professors, and met the school’s artistic director (who does costumes and sets). She is a textile artist who works with raffia (palm), which makes it a cousin to the Bakuba textiles I discussed. She showed me some of her work, and gave me a lovely raffia cell-phone bag. Very nice. (I've received several compliments telling me it is très à la mode.) Along with one of the other women I met, she directs a puppet theater and showed me a couple of the marionettes, which were amazing. Kola nut heads, raffia hair and bodies. These were amazing. The theater professors do a bit of work with African American drama (often comparative work with other African Diaspora theater), and we discussed showing A Raisin in the Sun next month.

She also showed me some raffia embroidery that she was doing and offered to make me a US flag, which I vehemently, but politely and with explanation, declined.