I wrote this a few weeks ago at the Bankside of the Thames after my visit to London’s Tate Museum of Modern. It was an overcast (regular?) day in the city and a bit cold, but I enjoyed the chill on my face. I made it a solo date – art is a very subjective experience anyway and while there may be overlaps in what is seen, felt, appreciated it’s never quite the same for any two people. I spent about two and a half hours browsing through the collections. Reminded me of New York’s NAMA, then again, it’s modern art.


Some of the pieces were breathtaking – I gravitate gowards the minimalist and the surreal with mellow tones – others can be best described as ” bold and structured”. And then there was Picasso who I always recognize. Can you imagine having a mark of work or art so distinct even the occasional art gallery goer can tell it’s you? I look out for African influences wherever I go, so I particularly delighted to encounter this sculpture by Picasso –  inspired by African artists. Naturally, I took a shot:


Fernande” – A sculpture by Pablo Picasso

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Picasso inspired by African artists

Then there are the pieces that jolt you or make you question. Like the piece below from a collection inspired by burnt plastic. Who knew a burn could be such a thing of beauty? Or that a tea stain could inspire art?


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One artist or collection in particular seemed to be geared towards eliciting some discomfort or questions with her jarring red paintings which ran similar to blood. After reading the notice it was clear why – the collection was inspired by womanhood, reproduction and all that goes with it. This was my favorite of the bunch – the moment of “check in” onto the crazy ride called life – or quite simply, birth:

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After pursuing two of the three floors of free collections I stopped by the cafeteria for the beautiful view of the St Paul’s Cathedrale just across the Millenium Bridge. But before I got a clean shot I had captured an intimate moment between an Asian couple. I approached them later and asked if they would like a copy of it and proceeded to email it to them.


Speaking of which, I had an interesting mini debate the other day. The question? Who owns a photo – the photographer or the subject? Apparently people can get sued in the UK for taking photos of others without permission. Although photo credit goes to the photographer the subject being photographed shares in the ownership. Note, I haven’t verified any of this, mere speculation. If you can confirm or denounce please let me know. Anyway, the couple didn’t seem to have a prob with my unwitting shot of them:

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In the coffee area is what is called the “Bloomberg Connect” – a number of large screen conputers were gallery guests could release their creativity and the inspiration they got from their visit. What makes me happy and most alive? Being surrounded by creativity, beauty.  There were some pretty cool things up there, but Nataly from Moscow caught my eye; I took a shot of her working on her piece and the aftermath when it was put on the big screen. Some talent, huh?




After my rest  I found Rumi on the final floor. As always, he had something insightful to share:

Distance and nearness are attributes of bodies.
The journeyings of spirits are after another sort.
You journeyed from the embryo state to rationality without footsteps or stages or change of pace.
The journey of the soul involves not time and place.
And my body learnt from the soul its mode of journeying.
Now my body has renounced the bodily mode of journeying.
It journeys secretly and without form, though under a form.

Jallaludin Rumi (1207-73) Masnavi.



All that said, the trigger for this post was the museum shop. Browsing through the many books, I came across two books under the fashion section – Fashion Africa by Jacqueline Shaw and African Textiles by John Gillman. The pages contained visuals and text on African textiles and contemporary fashion labels including Ghana’s own Christie Brown a brand well-known online and in social media circles. What a great way to immortalize their work, I thought!


Christie Brown in Jacqueline Shaw’s Fashion Africa


A spread of West African textiles in John Gillow’s African Textiles



I recently had a  refreshing discussion with Ghanaian blogger and spoken word artiste Mutombo da Poet about our (lack of) information access, content and documentation in Ghana, and by extension Africa. London is a city of historical richness, so much so that their history is literallty etched on their buildings and incorporated in the general landscape. Are we using our architecture, environment, resources in a similar way? To tell our stories about everyday living?


Our history is in the making. How are we documenting it?


Sure we have the internet and social media today and can find information relatively easier than in the past –  but the breadth and depth of the information out there leaves much to be desired. In many ways our information sphere is becoming a broken record and in areas like quality and verified information, it seems we’re actually regressing. The terrain remains unexplored, the possibilities untouched – but that means it’s also ridden with opportunity.


My visit to Tate left me with questions; some of which have been recurring over the past year. Would love to hear your thoughts; leave a comment below:

  • How are we Africans documenting our respective histories, if at all?
  • What roles do art, culture, and information play in advancing our societies?
  • Where is the merger between digital content and traditional content (books, newspapers, libraries)? How can we explore it?
  • How can we ensure that we are not only building content online but also creating books, libraries which the majority of our populations can access?
  • How can we be more creative in capturing our stories, identities, culture, art, history?


African art enthusiast? Visit AADAT by Ghanaian digital art curator Sharon Obuobi. She’s onto something and miles ahead of most of us when it comes to preserving and celebrating African art and culture. Until the next, happy musing!

Written by Jemila Abdulai