Prints... Then & Now

Hmmm! My first encounter with printmaking involved potatoes, scalpels & tempera paints on sugar paper! That must’ve been 25ish years ago.

The last time I did a comprehensive body of limited edition prints was 2008. Now am back!

And since that’s all that’s all over my studio, I recently had a very interesting conversation about prints with some guests - from the history, techniques, value, methods, ethics and renowned printmakers to the position of prints in the contemporary art world. It made me realize that as much as we may have been dabbling in the arts for (a handful) decades, most of us have just a slight understanding of them that makes us not fully comprehend their value within the contemporary art platform.

There are many different printmaking techniques but my point of reference today is woodcuts.

Woodcuts (according to online encyclopedias) is a relief printing artistic technique in which an image is carved into the surface of a block of wood, with the printing parts remaining level with the surface while the non-printing parts are removed, typically with gouges. The areas to show 'white' are cut away with a knife or chisel, leaving the characters or image to show in 'black' at the original surface level. The surface is covered with ink by rolling over the surface with an ink-covered roller, leaving ink upon the flat surface but not in the non-printing areas. Hmmm! It's actually easier to demonstrate than explaining the process!

The history of woodcuts can be traced to 15th century Europe where they were used for book illustrations long before they attained the status of single leaf fine art prints made popular by Albrecht Dürer (German artist & theorist). It reached a high level of technical and artistic development in East Asia and Iran around the 17th century for both books and art.

Japanese woodcut became a major artistic form, although at the time it was accorded a much lower status than painting.

Untitled Picasso (l) and Edvard Munch's "Death Bed"

The 20th century revolutionized printmaking with some of the most prolific artists, notably Edvard Munch, Emil Nolde, Franz Masereel, Max Beckman and Pablo Picasso continuing to use the medium, which came to appeal because it was relatively easy to complete the whole process, including printing, in a studio with little special equipment.

Unfortunately, there are no clear records of when printmaking ‘arrived’ in Africa. However, what am sure about is that my love affair with prints started in 1997. It wasn't love at first sight but we kind of slowly got attracted to each other.

As a requirement of any young lad/lass keen on joining Kuona Trust , then also called the Museum Art Studio, one was given a piece of plywood, black process ink and basic engraving tools. This must have been Rob Burnet's idea of knocking some sense of patience and discipline into us while discouraging idleness within the space.

With the aid of a jua kali assembled press, Richard Kimathi and Dickson Keke taught us newer folks basic printmaking – both theory and practical. Justus Kyalo introduced us to Bruce Onobrakpeya & Tayo Quaye by forcing us to look at their work.

Later, seasoned Ugandan Theresa Musoke and Tanzanian Robino Ntila taught us more serious stuff. The details of professional printmaking.

By 1999, I was experimenting with multi-coloured wood cut prints and at the turn of the millennium, was privileged to work with Namibian Ndasuunye 'Papa' Shikongeni, Ugandans Fred Mutebi & Henry Mujunga alongside locals Peterson Kamwathi & Ngene 'Small One' Mwaura who were willing to push the boundaries of prints locally.

From left; Bruce Onabrakpeya, Peterson Kamwathi and Zacharia Mbutha

Around 2005/5, I embarked on a serious experiment (playfully titled D) where the aim was to make prints that looked like paintings. After numerous early mornings, chronic back aches and lots of frustration, I got the much needed validation from my then studio mate Panye Mukabi. Ironically, I enjoyed the process so much that after that, I started experimenting trying to make paintings that looked like prints! Am not so far off the mark.

Today, 15 years after my first professional contact with prints, I look at prints by Kenyan artists and see the gains the local printmaking industry has made and is proud to have been part of the team.

From left to right; Ogonga Thom's Seating Naked (2000), Untitled (2008/12) & Good Bad Girl (2012)

However, most patrons of the arts still view it as a secondary media. A cheaper option to painting and sculpture. Most people still view oil painting on canvas as the ultimate with works on paper coming in second and works that are made in multiple editions (prints & photographs) coming at the bottom of the food chain. While photographs are "consumed" in numerous platforms, prints belong ‘in the gallery’ but are unable to stake their claim on the podium coz of prejudice and stereotypes that push it towards the craft market.

Phrases like, “But it’s just a print” or “They are supposed to be cheap” are still common where prints are involved. We need (and have been trying very hard) to sensitize people that prints are artworks just as strong as paintings, installations & sculptures. It’s an audios task that is sometimes hampered by rogue artists keen on making a quick buck by peddling their prints as cheap crafts.

When we ask ourselves why we do prints, or why we interact with them, alot of answers spring to mind. Some are intelligent. Some selfish. Some silly. Some? Just some! However we all agree on one thing. That we’ve come a long way. So long prints used to sell for 700 bob (long story that can only be narrated by Kim + Soi) and only belonged in that old rack at the East African Contemporary Art Gallery at the Nairobi Museum.

We’ve grown. Not only in age, height and weight but also in technical and intellectual ability. So next time you interact with prints, kindly give it the little respect it deserves. Even if they’re just prints.

Five Years, And Still Showing

I always have trouble starting articles. This may be due to the fact that as much as I sometimes want to give my alternative opinion on art related issues, I may at times be too angry, maybe too subjective. And that's not why I do what I do.

I like talking. I also love listening. In my line of work, am always caught in the studio-family cycle so much that any reason to break that routine and have a ball is always welcome. These, come in many forms; Whisky Saturdays with the bikers, Public holiday barbeques in the chochoro, football weekends, adults taking over kids’ birthday parties. And, exhibition openings.

The last couple of years have seen exhibition openings become cool events as a result some of Kenya's most prolific artists becoming regular fixtures in the local scene. This requires artistic spaces (read galleries, and especially public + semi public) to be up to speed so as to have a healthy turnover of exhibitions while satisfying both art practitioners and consumers. With very few spaces and numerous creatives, the question is, How long should a show run for?

I guess it's easy. For as long as the space custodian wants to. But after how long does a show lose relevance? (For lack of a better word, I use relevance).

Any Kenyan, or anyone remotely connected to Kenya doesn't need to be reminded of the year 2007. Alot of things happened. I almost got married. Manchester United won the English Premier League title... But those matter little. It was election year in Kenya. The campaigns were hot, the elections charged and the results disputed. The aftermath was catastrophic. We descended on each other. Kenya was like a video clip from bob Marley's 'burning & looting.'

This went on for 3 months.

Every Kenyan was ‘affected.’ Some, more than others. People told their stories - on TV, in newspapers, online and artists in whatever media they best respond to.

Lots of art-related events happened in Kenya as a result of what is until now referred to as the 2007/8 Post Election Violence, but three I personally believe were head and shoulders above the rest.

Not in any particular order, Kuona Trust marshalled artists and put together a brilliant exhibition to raise funds for direct victims of the chaos. The monies collected were handed to the Kenya Red Cross and I believe were used for the intended purpose.

The Kibera posse, Maasai Mbili which comes from the settlement that was arguably the most affected led their community in a series of healing workshops that were held in the burnt down settlements. Solomon Muyundu aka Solo 7 had peace messages written all over the sprawling slum while Otieno Gomba led the rest of the gang painting within ‘the ruins.’ This noble gesture put the Kibera artists on the global pedestal. The outcome of their activities was almost instant.

Finally, press (and a handful of amateur) photographers, those who witnessed the action first hand, brought to us an unedited version of what was rated X on TV through the Kenya Burning photographic exhibition. It had a chilling effect!

Most of us middle (and semi-middle) class folks had no idea what was going on as we were behind our relatively safe houses protected by razor/electric wire with an armed response gang stationed outside the gate (with a dog) watching the going ons on gagged TV.

The exhibition at the Godown Arts Centre was very graphic. Gruesome. The stories were surreal. They were not (supposed to have been) made in Kenya. Whatever message the exhibition (with a caption Never Again) wanted to pass, was passed. It was quite a successful exhibition, I believe. Back in 2008.

And then it moved. First to the late RaMoMa, and then to the Kenyatta International Conference Centre. It also showed in Eldoret, Mombasa, Kisumu and Zanzibar. And then this year in January, it came back home to the Godown. It is still on 8 months later! 
Last week, a second one opened in the Nairobi Gallery. Wow! Two exhibitions, same content in the same city. Never happened before. This is probably the exhibition that holds the international title of longest running & touring exhibition! It can also be summed in one word. OVERKILL!

In search of answers, I asked myself why this exhibition is so important to us as Kenyans, as artists, as space custodians?

It's so very true that we butchered each other, raped 'our enemies' daughters/ mothers/ sisters, looted and burnt property... So what? In the exact moments of mayhem, there were our very own heroes - who saved lives of perceived enemies, tended their wounds, fed them, clothed them... those who put their lives on the line by helping those from 'the enemy'. But these are not good enough stories I guess. They are not sensational enough I bet.

These are images from (almost) 5 years ago and as we approach an election which has been pushed to next year because we ain't ready, Tana River was on fire. Why? Tribalism. Mombasa was rioting. Why? Religious intolerance as a result of a murdered Sheikh. Mombasa Republican Council is threatening cessation. Why? A whole list of grievances that contributed to Kenya burning in the first place. All these lead me to the same question. What happened to our social responsibility as creative people? How can we use the platforms we control for the greater good? How can we use what we have to prevent Kenya Burning Season 2?  What do we gain by showing one exhibition for 5 years? Showing it in two spaces at once. Absolutely nothing. Am sure even the photographers in the exhibition have new photos they'd love us to see. I saw Kibera in March 2008. We stood in a burnt down pub during the Maasai Mbili project. When I went back to there in May, the bar had been re-built, operational and we had a beer in it with the gang. Why don't we want to tell these (slightly) positive stories?

People lost lives and property and most are still living in squalid conditions. This mayhem taught us words and phrases that we’ll probably never be able to use in any context outside Kenya. Internally Displaced Persons (IDPs), Post Election Violence (PEV)… What are we trying to achieve through this exhibition 5 years on? What satisfaction are we getting from displaying other people’s prolonged pain and anguish? When will it stop? Nothing personal but i think we've all had enough of it. We messed up big time and if we’re not in any way trying to right the wrong, we have no business even talking about it. I bet no woman wants to be reminded of the day they were busted cheating on their spouse just like no man writes in his diary the date he was arrested soliciting for sex from a prostitute.

From a very-selfish-practicing-artist point of view, it's not rosy either. All the months such an exhibition takes, holds up potential exhibiting space denying a platform for showing local artists' recent work - some of which is interrogative of pertinent issues Kenyans need to deal with to avoid a repeat of 2007/8. That explains why we've never seen a show by Kim at the Nairobi Gallery or Mary at the Godown or Omari at KICC.

But then again, this is just an alternative writer, on an alternative platform using so many words to say, “Yes, Kenya burnt. Part of it has been rebuilt. Part is still being built, albeit slowly. The only part that is beyond salvage is our souls and we’re daily confirming it by constantly dwelling on the flames, the displacement, the murder, the pillaging, the hate speech and pledging our allegiance to the merchants of death, 5 years on. Tutashindia Hapo?!"

How Much Is Your Art Worth?

I love Fridays. And it's neither for the endless parties that go on in Nairobi nor coz it's the start of weekend but because it's my 'me' day. It's the one day where my alarm is not preset for 0500hrs. The day I sleep till nine. The one day where breakfast can come with blended scotch. When I can skip the daily shower and be in recycled boxers all day. I am 'free' on Fridays.

This makes for a good time to write - most of my texts are drafted here. It's also a good time to read… Papers, books, gossip, letters, opinions, analysis, emails, propaganda... it's the best time to dream.

However, a couple of Fridays ago, my reverie was interrupted by a phone call from a long lost acquaintance. It went something like:

Acquaintance: Hi T, am in your studio and looking at this painting (describes painting and was wondering whether it's for sale.

Me: Hi, good to hear from you. How've you been? ... Yes it is for sale.

Acquaintance: What's your asking price?

Me: Ksh. 35,000.00 (only)

Acquaintance: Wharrr! That's expensive. Si you give me another price.

I start thinking (it's gonna be a hard sell this one)... Hmmmm!

Me: Hmmm... I could knock off a 10% for ol' time sake.

Acquaintance: Haki 15k haiwezi (I can't get it for 15,000.00)?

I get pissed but pretend am laughing while trying very hard not to disconnect the line. A minute later, line is dead.

I replayed the conversation again. And again. And it got me thinking. Who determines the real value of an artist's work? Artist? Dealer? Gallery? Museum?

You see, an artist practicing in my area code; one who's earned his stripes, is almost always attached to a gallery or two. In addition, they have a dealer or two trying to sell their work locally. The more established may have an 'international' dealer/agent selling their ware. This leaves an artist with an average of 3ish people trying to sell his work - including him/herself, it makes 4 people licensed to market his wares.

This may sound good. Very good, you may say but it leaves the artist in a very complicated position. It leaves the artist exposed (for lack of a better word). It confirms the myth that the artist is never (and will never be) in charge of his prices including how the value appreciates with time.

Case study:

Msanii Hodari, name changed to ‘conceal’ identity (pun intended), is an (upper) mid career artist who sells work from his studio and is happy to bypass the 'middle (wo)man'. His painting fetches Ksh. 100,000 within the space. He's happy, client happy. Life is blissful.

The artist takes the same painting to a (semi) public gallery and since the commission is 20%, it's marked up and the asking price becomes Ksh. 120,000. It gets 'slightly' costlier when it gets to a private entity that's tax compliant with commissions of 30% (these sometimes rise up to 40% )+ VAT of 16% making the cost of the same painting rise to something in the region of Ksh. 150,000.

These are okay...ish since they are set and these figures appear in the artist vs. space contracts.

Then come dealers whose commissions are vague. Those whose contracts have phrases like a minimum of 25% commission (with no mention of maximum) and others who will sell for anything above the artist's Ksh. 100,000 (whether 100,005 or 250,000).

Most people would suggest that all's well as long as the artwork sells, everyone gets paid, handshakes done accompanied by the "Pleasure doing business with you” pleasantries but me thinks otherwise! It's where the business of selling art becomes complicated.

Artists have genuine followers. Fans. Groupies. People who genuinely follow their practice. It becomes very uncomfortable unsuccessfully trying to convince a respectable and well meaning adult why a painting was 150k in March, 120k in April, 200k in May and back to 100k (negotiable) in August. This is not as easy to explain as it is in other industries where the product costs are directly predetermined by the price of crude barrels in the gulf. For most people it becomes a con and all the inconsistencies are (somehow) pinned on the artist. Maybe it's due to the fact that it's only he/she whose name is permanently attached to the artwork.

A candid chat with a couple of artists was... not so good! They (make alot of money from their work but) have no clue what their work is truly worth. Other than confront the elephant in the room, most artists (me included) have resorted to safely hiding under what is commonly termed as the "artist price". This loosely translates to the studio price. Here, the artist puts a tag and anyone willing to try sell it marks it up by 'whatever' as long as they bring the artist what he/she asked for (o.n.o). This has created the above scenario where the same artwork has up to five different prices depending on where it sits when a potential buyer makes the cost inquiry.

For someone new in the local art circle, it loosely translates into the local art scene being inconsistent and costly while making the cost of local art quite unpredictable.

How I wish Msanii Hodari’s work cost Ksh. 100,000 regardless of where it stood. A 16% VAT mark up wouldn’t be too bad.

Words that Should be Banned from Art Lingua

It's been a while since I last did an exhibition and had (temporarily) forgotten some of the (not so pleasant) questions I have to deal with when put on the spot. Making (what you want or what you perceive as) art is easy (for most artists). It's fun. Almost playful. I am yet to meet an artist who doesn't enjoy his practice. Every artist loves his job. Every moment of it (except shopping). What most find challenging is probably writing up a coherent artist statement that is relevant to their practice.

Having gone through the hard part of being an artist; early mornings, shopping sprees at Sciencescope, late nights in seedy joints, many interrupted painting sessions, selection of work that felt cohesive, getting them into the space & letting everyone know the mischief we were up to, I guess I thought the opening would be spent smiling, accepting compliments and topping up my beer mug.

I was wrong!

First, I realized that my artist statement was not adequate! It was too short. My partners in crime (aka the artists), know me. They are part of my practice. They therefore understand my work; content & philosophy. So, no need of having long winded explanations. A few people are okay with seeing the work and being pointed the direction of the artist from a distance. This is okay.

Some want a piece of you or expect you to bare it all. From the cliché "What inspires you?" to the technical process, to how long it takes and how you intend to change the world by painting drinking couples. The - why you do what you do. It’s almost a bad way of asking you to interpret your artist statement or simplify the exhibition write up.

Most of these conversations are good. Very good. They make you see your work in way you'd never thought. For once, all the artsy vocabulary - context, threshold, interrogation, commentary, identity, inquisition, process ... is thrown out of the window and you interact with your audience in a language they understand. On their terms!

Most people are of course polite. And curious. Once they understand where you're coming from, they are like they've known you forever. However, a couple of words keep coming up. Words whose intentions are good in every way (I think). Words supposed to be compliments but those I find rather abstract. If it were my call, they are words I'd ban from the art lexicon! Words like…

Selection of Ogonga Thom's paintings on show.

Amazing! (causing great surprise or sudden wonder) How can a painting be amazing? Back in my primary school, there was this big girl called Grace. She was so strong she'd beat up even the strongest boy. We called her Amazing Grace (I hope she doesn't read this lest I get in trouble). So when you say a painting is amazing, I see Grace! Or try envisioning a painting that causes me sudden wonder!

Someone shouted ‘cool’ from behind me and on inquiry was told that Magical Kenya by Michael Soi was a ‘nice’ (definition - pleasing; agreeable; delightful; amiably pleasant; kind). I laughed and gave my definition of cool (temperature) and nice (weather) and the person thought I was too old fashioned for my 'tender' age. They gave me an English lesson and I agreed that maybe the painting was agreeable. Or just delightful.

Paintings by Michael Soi

An adjective like beautiful should never find its way into an art space. Unless of course it’s being used to describe the model in the artist's studio. Terming a painting beautiful is (almost) an insult to the artist! I am yet to meet an artist whose intended final artwork is a beautiful artwork. We use beautiful models, bright colours that are visually appealing, precious metals but that does not mean the final artwork is necessarily beautiful. As much as beauty is visual, it should be confined to vanity - a beautiful car, house, lass... Mona Lisa, the lady who sat for Leonardo of Vinci was very beautiful. The painting titled Mona Lisa is breathtaking! Leonardo's skill is astonishing.

Words like Interesting, Awesome... are often abused by people who dislike your work but feel it's polite to compliment the you. We don't need flattery, we need your truthful opinion. And if you can't be honest, please Shut Up! Honesty is the best policy but silence is always a better substitute. Just as girls see through us when we pretend to like their fake hair, artists laugh at you when you say their work is nice, awesome or pretty.

So many words can be used to describe an artwork. My English is limited but in my limitless Sheng, it could be painting kali, noma, zii, imechapa. Or Installation mwenda. Maybe sculpture ya uduu! Or picha imetokelezea. Perfomance haijanibamba! So next time, avoid a faux pas and please use words like impressive, radical, captivating, sexy, forceful, boring, vivid, harrowing, moving, breathtaking, hilarious, dramatic, shocking, provocative, but not NICE!

Management (No Longer) Reserves The Right of Admission

When "Gentleman's Club" opens on Sunday 24th June, it will not only be just another show but a celebration of how far we've come. In terms of technical ability, intellectual capacity and freedom of publicly showing work that was unexhibitable just a couple of years ago.

For most artists, compiling a decent body of work is very fulfilling. Selling is nice (as it helps sort out our material obligations) but getting to show it in a good exhibition is ultimate. Nothing beats the feeling of having your peers in a space -  conventional or otherwise as your work takes centre stage accompanied by the clinking of wine glasses, smell of fresh samosas + spring rolls, a handful of red dots next to the art on show and (semi) intelligent conversations as people gather to celebrate your hard work... or laziness. That to most artists is probably the one and only objective critic session they'll ever have (of course before the brain + alcohol become buddies).

Over the years, our art scene has been labelled as conservative. Meaning we have been afraid. So afraid of what we've called taboo subjects - politics, nudity, religion, sexuality... and anything we put in the box labelled UnAfrican! This translates to some artworks never getting to see the light of day for what are deemed 'cultural reasons'. A polite way of saying your work makes certain people uncomfortable.

You see, artists are... Strange! (for lack of a better word). We live in the same city, go to the same schools, shop in the same stores, read the same books, agree on most things arty but are very individual in our creations. The thing that sets us apart is the one we call inspiration.

Some people are inspired by nature, others religion, others politics, maybe love or fashion or just women. Others seek inspiration in the night.

Spaces, depending on their custodians, have had their fair share of challenges in dealing with all the diverse subjects that come out of artist studios making them sometimes go for the easiest option politically. Censorship.

Not sure who has been a culprit or victim before my time but a handful of times I've been witness and victim.

First was in the year 2001; Patrick Mukabi, Peter Klashorst and myself had worked long & hard to put up what to us was supposed to be a blockbuster show at the East African Contemporary Gallery (Nairobi Museum). All went well till the works got into the space. Curated by Gert Meijerink of the Amsterdam Institute of Painting, the show was titled "Nairobi Day & Night Club" and was a black & white interpretation of the title. Panye had beautiful paintings of graceful women during the day. Klas had very good ones of the not so good people of the night. I had the in between.

Word spread quickly and the management decided to edit the show and remove the culturally offensive work. Protests, blackmails and compromises later, we had a show. Not as blockbuster as we'd have loved but among the few conceptualized shows at the Nairobi Museum.

Come 2005, an artist and dealer got together a posse of artists and put up a show of nude works at Le Rustique restaurant. It was a big hit and someone thought it a good idea to move it to Karen. The works were put up in a high end restaurant till someone called the cops to complain about pornographic stuff in their club.

Some of the paintings were arrested! Not sure what the charge sheet read or how they left the cop shop but knowing Kenya, someone gave and another received. The show ended prematurely!

More recently, Michael Soi aka the Snakedoctor was to have a show whose content was the going ons in the mushrooming Nairobi strip clubs. He couldn't show the work as the 'expected audience' would be offended. I was personally offended as it was censoring within a creative space. Soi has not been so lucky. He booked and confirmed a show in an upmarket pub & restaurant. The owner soon discovered he intended to show politically motivated paintings and as fate would have it, the show never took off as a regular patron was a big man.

Fast forward and coming Sunday is the opening of the "The Gentleman's Club."

It is a juxtaposition of the two artists’ view of Nairobi with a bias toward the night. Both have been accused of degrading women by portraying them negatively and supporting the vices that come with the still of the night.

Whether they do or not we'll never know (or is irrelevant for now). One thing however is that what happens in Nairobi does happen. Art imitates life. The Nairobi night is perceived as dangerous, heathen, black, ugly & full of sin - gambling, crime, prostitution, bar brawls etc.

Amid all the madness, there is happiness/fun. It is when you enjoy your favourite dinners. When your spouse, or brother or sister is earning their daily bread (honestly). When you're running across town to catch those annoying night flights. When in a bus heading to the village. Or when you make a trip to The Gentleman's Club! At such times there's alot to see! Some of us close our eyes because what we see is not pretty. But some open them wider, and stare! Because they know they shall reference those moments in their work. When making their art.

Those that closed their eyes (and they that were seen) will be upset by the artworks generated from those moments. They will do all in their power to stop the work from being seen. They shall burry their heads in the sand and believe that these things did not happen. But come morning, they shall replay these nightly topics discussed graphically on their home radios and car stereos, truly enjoying these taboo subjects.

Maybe the power of a picture (read painting) is so overwhelming and plays with our conscience hence the resistance. We're okay with having strip club adverts in our daily newspapers and at bus stops (high density public platforms) but it's not okay for artists to exhibit works inspired by this culture in (semi) public spaces. Don't know why, but one thing is for sure, come Sunday, for the first time artists have a rare chance of going all out - all guns blazing & bare knuckled to show their studio output without being worried about censorship & terms like sensitive audiences, culturally offensive blah blah blah! And it’ all for arts sake.

It's not often that artists are ‘Free To Decide’ what to show as someone else's opinion carries the day. So am really looking forward to the vernissage on Sunday. Cold beer on the Snakedoctor if you can find your way to One Off Contemporary Art Gallery #16 Rosslyn Lone Tree Nairobi.

Built on Quicksand, Sustained by Hype

I never met Ruth Schaffner!

I must also admit my work has never found its way into Gallery Watatu with the exception of it passing through for framing by Owino - the late resident framer, en route to other spaces for exhibitions. Most of the (not so) young artists probably sail the same boat as I in that they also have never exhibited there; whether it’s by choice or by being locked out is a story for another day! From Kyalo, Mukabi, Michael Soi, Jimmah Kimani, Peterson Kamwathi, Beatrice Wanjiku, Anthony Okello, Peter Walala, Jimmy Ogonga... a large percentage of those referred to as 2nd generation Kenyan artists.

So, when last week a local daily carried the story of the “major auction and final closure" not many tears were shed! It was comparable to this week when 2 politicians died and the political class are busy turning well known villains into instant heroes.

Flashback... A little over 40 years ago three artistic friends -Jony Waite, Robin Anderson and David Hart - created a privately-owned space they named "Watatu" - Swahili for 3 people. It is not very clear (or well documented) when it changed hands but the new owner became Ruth Schaffner, a German-born American collector of post-war art.

With Ruth at the helm, Watatu was an instant 'hit' and was home of what was loosely referred to as créme de la créme of indigenous Kenyan (read naive) art. Artists like Jak Katarikawe, Ancent Soi, Sane + Eunice Wadu, Wanyu Brush, Elijah Ooko, Kivuthi Mbuno, Samuel + Jackson Wanjau & Chain Muhandi among others soon became overnight celebrities.

One thing everyone agrees with is that Ruth Schaffner was an art dealer extraordinaire!

Urban legend has it that artist villages, Ngecha and Banana Hill sprouted as a result of Ruth's patronage. Young and ambitious guys out of college would walk into the gallery, head held high armed with a diploma/degree and they would leave crestfallen as they'd be told, "They weren't good enough unless they painted like Sane, or Brush, or Muhandi..."

The strong and maybe too proud, never came back and carried on with their practice minus Watatu. The weak, tried to be like Sane! like Meek Gichugu... and even got cool names to boot!

People 'got rich' and for once Kenyan art 'was on the world map' and then it happened in 1996!

Ruth Schaffner died! There was pandemonium in the art scene. Grown men cried! They did not sob. They wailed.

This was around the same time Kuona Trust and One Off Gallery were starting and all those who never got into Watatu were having alternative spaces to show (and sell). For most of us, Watatu was never an option. It simply wasn't there. For most, the connection was Owino, the framer.

Fast forward and we heard rumours of watatu being broke and some staff hawking artworks to make ends meet but that was private property, and we weren't supposed to trespass!

Then this year - I guess shit hit the fan! Watatu crumbled, and is now falling.

That Watatu is obsolete and going under was never the issue. It was HOW this was happening that most had a problem with. An auction had allegedly taken place and another one was scheduled yet no information was forthcoming. It felt like someone was keen to tie up a good deal in a hush. Fate had it that through social media, information leaked and was shared.

On the day of the second auction, two dozen people in the arts were there, some to claim what was rightfully theirs, some for curiosity, maybe a handful for moral support, some to buy expensive work cheaply and some to just heckle. The gods of creativity got us a reprieve and the auction was postponed to 16th June.

We have accepted that closure is inevitable but does it really matter?

Our beloved RaMoMa 'died' recently. We never mourned and moved on like it never was. Today, Watatu is in High Dependency Unit and we're already shopping for a coffin! A glimpse at www.gallerywatatu.com gives an indicator on who the gallery represented. You won't find the names of the young, prolific award winning Kenyan artists shifting the dynamics of the local art scene. Why? We may never know.

Maybe, before we get all emotional and use words like History, Heritage etcetera, we should define the relationship we had with Watatu, with the institution, with they that ran (down) the space. And when I personally do that, I can say with my head held high that, "I'm not gonna lack sleep over Gallery Watatu's closure."

We have other art spaces/institutions that have gone the same way. We get all mushy when they are in the red then amnesia creeps in immediately they're unable to stay afloat. Is it lack of strategy? Are our institutions too elite? Could it be the personnel? Or is it that we don't support each other? Maybe one day we'll find out. Maybe.

I love quoting strange artists that I meet and a wise one summed it up well... "The old order empires built on quicksand and sustained by hype, are finally crumbling.”

And as this happens, another one inhales on his ciggy, reflects, and as he exhales, with the smoke comes the words, "Nothing, I feel absolutely nothing."