While we wait the return of 99 looted midcentury artworks ‘transferred’ from Cambridge’s Museum of Archeology and Anthropology to Benin in March, the world moves on, astride professional portraitist Darlington Raymond confident in black-white striped fila, black leather watch, into a reverberating hall.
Bradford African Festival of Arts is a statement to the social force of Nigerians in the black world. Drawing support for its third year from African expats, as well as ends of British establishment including the city council, BAFA recognizes that our authentic creativity moves beyond museums and exists in a live industry powered by breathing artists. In devotion to loud glories of an undaunted culture, gangan notes ensue joyful proclamations over the Victorian city. Visitors commingle, and are treated to a series of events: business panels, craft workshops, jazzy afrobeat snacking beside celebrations of fashion and food.
The first week of August in Bradford is a striking image of dignity uniting the global village, enclaving Caribbeans, locals, Pakistanis. Three train hours over in the little lagoses of London, 1-54 Art fair features an even broader circuit of African excellence, with a Mediterranean tinge. “Our children are losing their language,” says BAFA’s director Dr. Kolawole Adeborode, commenting on the Nigerian coloring to his festival, “they are losing the culture and heritage we brought to this country. I thought we needed to establish a platform to preserve that heritage.” Accents of all languages hiss proud over ventilation systems. The heritage, born of artists educated on the continent- some who now practice in the United Kingdom- eastern installations as well find space: Pelumi Oluyemi, Lateefat Tobun, Ayobami Olorunniyi, Darlington Raymond, Indian audiovisual creative Vishwajit Phadte.
Natural light floods opening evening, in a conical hall at Bradford University. Lalisa Birnahu’s associate lingers over Immanuel Obani’s femininity frames. In one of these, greenery sprouts from a silhouette subject. Next to it, an unframed Darlington ties the general yellow scheme. Darlington’s titled In Unity we Blossom, and foregrounds his central anatomical fascination: hands. The background is Midwest noon, two intertwined pairs present a white bulb as if to gift this new flavour of light to the stars.
The cortege flows about the exhibition. A few feet to the left, something distracts Lalisa from Instagram. Excited, he cries, “This just reminded me of my childhood.” His hand is on Darlington’s star of the show, The Keeper of the Glow. It takes up the largest slice of its stand, rendered in acrylic paint. “We call this fanuz,” He goes on, phone in pocket now. “What’s this in Nigeria?”
“Atùpà,” supplies a voice.
Animated, Lalisa recounts stories of school days in the village. To pace competition in secondary school they pulled all nighters, reading through the dark more often than not. Kerosene powered fanuz was that trusty companion of the scholars. Erratic power supply or load shedding was a pretty universal hurdle through the urbanizing 80s, and the closest Africa’s reality came to validating ye old ‘dark continent’ slur. By 2020, states including Gabon, Kenya, Tunisia, Morocco had solved electricity access. “Eventually I became one of the first graduates in my community,” ruddy with victory of the present. Ambassador Lalisa Birnahu consistently champions wholesale adoption of green energy in Ethiopia. He serves as the Deputy Head of Mission at the embassy in London, working to expand British patronage of Ethiopian consumer goods.
Equally enthused are west Africans at the exhibition, none more so than Nigerians. It briefly becomes a reunion of sorts, and many memories rekindle at the symbolism. Family gatherings on verandahs, waiting for the insecticide to work within, childhood secrets repressed until forgotten, and of course the enduring pursuit of knowledge. A beautiful moment for Darlington, surrounded by beautiful kin an ocean away from home. And he just made them remember.
Your work was recently shown at Bradford African Festival of Arts in the UK. How does it feel to have your images travel and speak in those spaces?
It was really nice, honestly. It gave me the chance to meet other creatives who are also doing their part to put African art and creativity on the map in the UK. It was good being around like-minded people, seeing different work, sharing ideas, and just connecting. And of course, seeing my own images being shown in that space felt really good.
As does the number of Darlington’s recent output, The Keeper of the Glow conveys bright colored optimism. The iconic lantern design: a simple wicker flame protected by a transparent case. Its body is aluminum alloy, having a handle by which it may be hung or carried. Forearm muscles ripple by tint and shade; meticulous detailing. The artist’ gradual evolution from crayons to centering oils accompanies a noticeable elevation in sensibilities. Atupa’s keeper wears a splatter patterned gown for breezy dusks, comparable to Akwete prints on sale at the pop up outside. Beneath those canopies any long-stay would be moved to nostalgic eyeheat. So uncanny is the resemblance to continental open air markets; hear home in fresh palm oil, the garri Ijebu in ziploc bags, market banter of lappa swaddled matrons in vibrant hues and full grins.
Darlington Raymond is marking his voice along a tradition that can be followed up to the late great Egonu. As with contemporaries in literature or other arts, Raymond and alike moderns recode their European training to speak of, and speak for the cultures that give them the graces to draw and paint in the first place. They reimagine themselves ambassadors on uncanny sand, charged to responsibly represent oft exploited and corrupted narratives. The proof of honest practice is no more evident than emotional responses elicited by the work when it meets muse out in the world. The artists featured on BAFA ‘26 remind us and everyone who listens: despite geopolitical conveniences assuming a 54-state situation the continent is one vast unbroken village. Leave with a charge to remember and treasure it as such.
It is honourable, honourable.
Ebri Kowaki is an arts and culture journalist. He reviews and critiques works of visual artists in Nigeria and beyond. His reviews have appeared in Kurating, JAY Lit, GQ, Afrocritik and elsewhere.
Credit: Vanguard
