GALLERIES: Continuing to promote painting from around the region, the Banana Hill Art Gallery offers work by two Ugandans with a wealth of ability, thanks perhaps to the weather but more likely to their education system.
It seems to be raining rather a lot in Nairobi.
Even this past week in the middle of July, supposedly the driest month of the year, we had to endure a steady, dispiriting drizzle.
The only cheering news I can offer is that it rains even more in Kampala — most afternoons when I was there — and with an average annual rainfall of 1,260mm it is an easy city to get wet in.
Which accounts, perhaps, for the preponderance of umbrellas in paintings from the Ugandan capital.
It could even explain the enthusiasm young Ugandan artists show for learning their trade (too wet to play out, so might as well stay in and work on the drawing.)
Of course their formal skills might also have something to do with an education system that values art as a subject, with lessons from primary school onwards, and encourages youths to develop the ability needed to knock out realistic pictures of whatever happens to take their eye.
All of which brings us to the paintings of one David Kigozi, currently on show at the Banana Hill Art Gallery just to the west of Nairobi; in a town renowned as the birthplace, with neighbouring Ngecha, of the Happy Splashy School of Kenyan painting eagerly promoted by the now defunct Watatu Gallery.
For the past few years, the artist Shine Tani who owns and runs the Banana Hill centre has widened the gallery’s outlook to encompass a truly regional view.
Thus, recently, as well as a regular supply of local talent (Patrick Kinuthia, Sebastian Kiare, Tabitha Wa Thuku et al) they have shown work by Tanzanian Tingatinga painters and Haji Chilonga as well as the henna artists from Dar’s Vipaji Gallery plus Ugandans including Jjuuko Hoods, Ismael Kateregga and now, until August 3, David Kigozi, with a few on the side by another slick Ugandan, Ronex Ahimbisibwe.
And it can be no coincidence that the Kampala rains have added immeasurably to the scope of Kigozi’s output.
All 31 paintings are of children going about their daily lives under skies heavy with what the forecasters call “precipitation.”
Umbrellas abound; as do glistening roads and expertly painted reflections. A few paintings show children at pumps and taps collecting water, as though there were not enough of it around already.
All these paintings are very well done. They project an artist well schooled, thoroughly disciplined and extremely capable.
Kigozi has a habit of outlining his figures in series of swift black lines, which, while setting and indeed emphasising the pose, also tend to reveal almost too much of the picture–making process.
Why doesn’t this really matter? I suspect it is to do with the artist’s intentions, which I think are to dash off something attractive for the wall; to please an audience that wants an appealing picture without bothering overmuch about any insights. And why not? It’s good to take your foot off the pedal now and then.
Kigozi, now in his early 40s, has been exhibiting since 1998 and has shown both regionally and in Australia and Germany.
He paints with strong strokes, confidently manipulates tone and chooses a generally bright palette, giving an overall impression that he knows exactly what he is about.
His figures look solid enough as they play, collect water, cycle, kick a football or just walk in the rain, and he feels so comfortable with his execution that he indulges himself in slight, rather hurried stylisations (the outlines being just one: almost random dabs of bright colour being another) that remind me of those artists who earn a good living as magazine illustrators or in advertising agencies.
Kigozi is a professional who knows both his work and his market.
And his fellow Ugandan Ronex Ahimbisibwe? Well, there were four little paintings by him on board (each slightly less than A4 size) stacked up in the racks against the wall. And they were superb. Little gems of Kampala Realism, capturing the essence of their subjects — market and street scenes — with a minimum of fuss.
The man can paint… and Shine Tani is doing us all a favour by regularly presenting the fruits of formal art teaching from around the region.