On show, the fine art of making art

Exhibitions show creative work, rarely the intriguing process of creation itself, which is why one current show in Nairobi is so interesting.

Constructions sets out to explain the process — the inspiration and realisation of different forms of art — rather than simply present completed works.

A helpful explanation glued to the wall notes that creativity involves problem solving, finding new ideas and new associations of ideas, fuelled by insight.

Curated by 3 Collect (the photographer James Muriuki, and artists Miriam Syowia Kyambi and Kivubiru Tabawebbula), the show is on at the Kuona Arts Centre off Likoni Road until the end of this month.

Lean and thoughtful, it repays a visit.

Only three artists are presented — the signwriter James Gathee, the dancer Sarah Kwala, and the animation artist Muchiri Njenga.

I think it is fair to say the curators chose them for the variety they offered while avoiding big names so visitors would focus on the process by which the work was achieved rather than the work itself.

Pinning the whole show together is a 20-minute video that shows the three at work as they explain what it is they are doing, how they go about it and what they hope to achieve.

It is essential viewing to an understanding — and enjoyment — of the exhibition.

Centrepiece of the gallery are two cut-outs of the dancer Sarah Kwala, linked by her footsteps inked onto a roll of brown paper. It’s clever, imaginative and, well, walks the walk.

By following the steps (which would of course be invisible in any live performance of contemporary dance) you can understand the tension in the limbs, the lithe power of Kwala’s body leading to her final curled leap. It brings the show to life — a brilliant coup de theatre.

The signwriter’s strongest suite on this showing seems to be matatu route numbers, hung like Christmas decorations at the entrance.

Gathee’s paintings appear to be somewhat less sure than his lettering.

His stab at Botticelli’s Birth of Venus left the Florentine master fatally wounded, while his attempt to reproduce the famous photograph of Dedan Kimathi was another unfortunate choice.

Gathee’s homage to the singer Rhiannon may just about be recognisable to a besotted fan, while his two dancers twirling was clearly unfinished and so showed the creative process at mid-point. Sort of.

Yet I happen to know that Gathee can paint quite well.

The video shows him working on a sign featuring an angry, white cat. I have seen the finished version, a sign for Sweetie’s Bar.

The moral? Be yourself and stand by your talent: Copy others and lose by comparison.

There simply was not enough of the animation artist Muchiri Njenga on the wall to enable me to judge his ability, except to say that the photograph of the collage of his working methods was involving and made me want to know more. The video proved to be very helpful here.

So, does the show succeed in helping us to understand creativity? Well, up to a point it does (again, thanks mainly to the pasted notes and the video) but I wish the point had been made with some paintings of rather more substance.

I would have liked to have known, for example, what triggered Peterson Kamwathi’s interest in sheep as symbols of the futility of war, and how did he come up with the cow to represent the Kenyan state?

And what motivated Jesse Ng’ang’a’s screaming skulls, or the mysterious surrealist vision of Richard Kimathi?

Against them, the creative process that informs the work of a signwriter working outside his métier pales somewhat.

For me, the purpose of the exhibition was highlighted by the dancer’s footsteps.

Thinking about creativity is fascinating for many reasons, one of them being that it takes you to places you never thought to visit.

Musing on the dancer’s tracks, the shadow of her creative presence, I was reminded of the concrete footsteps at Gandhi’s house in Delhi.

They trace his last walk from sparsely furnished room, out through the french windows and into the garden, where he was shot dead.

The footsteps stop at the site of the shooting, before a simple plaque explaining what happened. To follow those steps and suddenly be confronted by the plaque is an unexpectedly moving experience.

I would shake the hand of anyone who completed the walk without getting a lump in their throat.

Footsteps have a particular resonance for Kenya, too.

There was the Nyayo philosophy, the Nyayo car, there is the Nyayo stadium and the Nyayo tea zones, Nyayo House with its abandoned torture cells… and there is the Nyayo legacy, too.
Lump in the throat, anyone?

Frank Whalley runs Lenga Juu, a fine arts and media consultancy based in Nairobi. E-mail: fwhalley@gmail.com