FUNKE ADETUTU
Even as I write this, it is still difficult explaining what held me at Marina, Lagos last Saturday. I was there till about 7.40 pm, even though it was such an ungodly hour to be on that road alone. You see, I was actually waiting for a co-traveller that evening when I decided to seek refuge at Chicken Licken fast food restaurant, situated inside the Oando filling station.
As I entered the eating area, I was torn between placing an order for a drink or ice cream and going to the ‘little girls’ room. I made a split-second decision to opt for the latter, but what I encountered surprised me.
“Where is the loo?” I asked one of the waiters.
“It’s over there,” he answered, pointing at a door in a corner on the far right.
“Where?” I asked again since I couldn’t make anything out of where he pointed at.
“Let me lead you,” he offered, after which he led me towards a long, dark corridor. I was taken aback when I realised that darkness had engulfed the whole passageway.
“There is no light here,” I observed, a little frightened.
“Yes, there is no power in the mall,” he replied.
“How possible is that when there is power in here?” I queried, demanding an explanation.
It was surprising to discover that the toilets were located in the adjoining mall; thus the source of power in the mall where the eating area was located was different from that of the toilets.
While the young man was busy with his explanations, a strong wind blew across the corridor, leaving a disgusting odour in its wake. “This place stinks,” I complained to the waiter while holding my breath. “And you expect people to walk in here to eat in this kind of atmosphere, no disinfectant for the toilets, no air freshener, nothing?”
This time, the waiter had no reply for my questions. Perhaps, he actually realised they had done badly in that respect. He opened his mouth to say something but the words refused to come out. He probably knew there was just nothing to say that would convince me.
I returned to my seat to join to my co-traveller who just came. Like me, she was tired and and needed a drink. But the bad odour oozing from the toilet would not let us stay.
“This is serious. I don’t think we can stay in here,” my friend said.
“We can’t,” I agreed with her.
“You see, the last time I was here,” my friend said while narrating her ordeal, “I was asked to use another toilet behind the building. When I got there, I could not use the convenience because it’s a place used by area boys. I asked myself, ‘Why do I have to do that?’ I could not use it because it stank badly.”
My friend is just one of the many people who have complained about the toilet at this branch of Chicken Licken. Though it’s understandable that getting a good convenience might be a bit challenging in a central business district like Marina, the management of the eatery ought to have taken this into consideration while planning the outlet. It’s sad that customers have to consume their food in an atmosphere saturated by stale air oozing from the toilet. Apart from the fact that it’s unhygienic, such a scenario is inappropriate for an eatery of that status. Customers should be able to breathe fresh air without any form of difficulty.
“I don’t think I’d like to come here again,” my friend said with a tone of finality. Since that was not her first experience, I could not persuade her to pay another visit. She couldn’t even linger for another second that evening; hence we retraced our steps into the cold night with our thirst.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Wood carving: A blend of beauty and functionality
FUNKE ADETUTU writes that there is more to a piece of wood than meets the eye, as wood carvers creatively turn lifeless logs into beautiful but functional pieces
This hazy harmattan afternoon, the misty cold, a hangover from the early hours of the morning, still hangs loosely in the air as artisans hurriedly go about their business at the Oke fia area of Osogbo. School children just returning from school are decked out in their sweat-soaked uniforms under the scorching rays of the sun. A few yards away, two women quibble over two pieces of iced fish. At a motor park overlooking the railway line, bus conductors shout their destination to the hearing of passers-by who seem disinterested in the noise around them. It seems unbelievable that creative works which grace shrines, homes across the country nay the world are actually produced in this raucous area.
Meanwhile, Adebanbo Osuntomi is at work in front of his home which doubles as his workshop. He picks up a saw to cut a piece of wood into equal halves, but it appears the edge of the saw isn’t sharp enough. Hence, he is forced to expend another ounce of energy before it obeys his command. He sniffs hard at the piece he wants to work on, nods with approval, picks up a chisel and hammer, and begins to creatively carve out an image he alone can understand.
“The secret of the wood lies in the carver,” Adebanbo explains, while using the back of his hand to wipe off beads of sweat from his forehead. “It’s is not known to the ordinary eye. I can use a piece of wood as a base for the figure or I can decide to use it as the figure itself. I can use it as human shadow. I can turn it into anything, depending on what comes into my mind.”
True to his words, there are many things inside a lifeless log of wood which an ordinary person cannot see. This is why it becomes incredible that out of these logs, Adebanbo and his men fashion out beautiful images that have become the toast of many tourists within and outside the country.
What these men do not know as they work their bones sore this afternoon, is that their works are the subject of discussion in classrooms, art showrooms and museums, even in the home of art collectors the world over.
Adebanbo has produced works of art that protect the grooves in Osogbo and beyond from intrusion and decay. His works include well carved images of Soponna and Sango, the Yoruba god of thunder. They are strikingly eclectic images which cannot be ignored even by a non-believer. Adebanbo believes art cannot be disconnected from its religious functions because creativity is part of ritual life. Hence, the fusion of art and religion is at the core of his art and the singular purpose of his work is to protect the sacredness of nature. His works present a mixture of architecture and sculpture.
As far as Adebanbo is concerned, the best wood for his work is Ebony, although he uses Tick and Apia. “I use Apia for wood door that comes with images on them. I use Apia because it is durable,” he says. Although they get wood supplies from sellers at times, Adebanbo and his apprentice go to the woods in search of logs for their craft. The price depends on the size. It could be N5, 000 or N6, 000. As he explains, “We can make many images from a log of wood. It depends on the height and the size of the image that I want to carve.”
Wood carving is more than the artistry involved in the craft. The Yoruba are more apt to think of the art as an act of Oju’na in the Yoruba dialect, meaning “creative imagination.” They believe the creative imagination is executed with skill and an understanding of the subject, rather than seeing wood carving as an object. For them, artistry is the exploration and imaginative recreation of received ideas and forms, usually from the divine. It is a vital part of being, and creativity is associated with the divine. Therefore, the work of a wood carver is a blend of creativity and the divine, beauty and functionality.
For a practitioner of the trade like Stanley Osarenren, wood carving is a statement about humanity or some aspects of human life, besides which it is an intuition of truth about the natural world.
“For the designs, I don’t use pictures. I will call it a gift. We all have our specialties as carvers. As for me, I specialise in abstract works. For instance, I just finished working on two lovers abstract. There is another one named ‘figure’. This is the figure of a woman carrying a pot. It could also be that of a woman carrying a baby. This form of carving is realistic carving. It is human,” explains Osarenren. Hence, wood carving is a means of conveying an intuition about divinity. These artisans are simply using their craft as an expression of their inner beings.
Since Nigerian culture is intrinsically woven with African religion, carved images are a mediating factor for both religion and culture in Nigeria. The predominant rituals in creative works like wood carving become even clearer with the appreciation of the fact that both art and religion were considered twins of the same transcendental offshoot.
Thus, for faithful of the traditional religion, visible forms are but mirrors of the unutterable myth of earth and heaven reflecting on each other. If art expresses reality in images and religion expresses ultimate reality in symbols, then religious art expresses religious symbols in artistic images. Wood carving is therefore the meeting point for the finite and infinite, and the functionality of the craft occupies a significant place in this enterprise.
For most collectors, the meaning ascribed to carved images could provide paradigms for the consideration of their functions. Such images functions as a tool to maintain a concept of reality by giving form to the ideas or observations of not only the individual but the carvers themselves. These ideas or observations are translated into concrete forms by the carvers who at times are ignorant of the functionality of their craft.
“Wood carving is functional in many ways,” says Odia Ofeimun, poet and literary critic. It preserves and enhances a people’s culture for it serves as a method of record keeping and makes culture mobile. Historical records are embedded in forms of art, which serve as a means of preserving the people’s culture. Most times, they function as objects of worship.”
Another function of images carved from wood is the aesthetics. It brings beauty to the home. Often times, however, there is an overlap between these functions, hence art could entertain, express a people’s idea of reality and record their history all at once. What is implausible is for art to fail in performing at least one of the aforementioned functions at any given time or space.
“Wood carving is a form of visual art,” says Adropo Ewenla, a student of visual art at a state university. Works of art consist of two elements, the inner and the outer as well as two levels of knowledge, esoteric and exoteric. The esoteric knowledge level usually informs the inner element of art through knowledge, which is informed by the artist’s intended meaning for his work.”
Therefore, this could be a story that goes with the work of art, the content of which may consist of private or public concerns. This knowledge is accessible to a few people, the artist in this case. “The outer element of art gives expression to the inner element and manifests at the exoteric knowledge level, for it is accessible to all. It is expressed in aesthetic values and decorations. The outer element gives the images carved their visible and audible qualities. Both elements are significant and affect their performance or presentation,” Ewenla adds.
However, a new generation of artists is looking at other modern forms through which they can express themselves. Ubong Boniface is a carver at Mende Maryland in Lagos. He represents a new generation of carvers whose works have found expression in different forms of art. “I learnt wood work but nor carving,” he explains. “I do what I call ‘cut and paste’ technique. After I was tutored by my friend’s father, I became learned in the art. I realised that I can paint but I decided to go for sculptor. I find it the most expressive and it is more lucrative.”
In the meantime, Boniface is putting finishing touches to a piece he titled Back from Labour. His kind of art which he named “fibre glass” comes under sculpture. This is another more modern form that he uses to express his creativity. A 2 by 3 piece of Back from Labour, he says, could earn him N15, 000 or more depending on the status of the customer. “Before you do any art,” he advises, “you have to dream it. You have to finish everything inside your mind so that it will come out the way you want it.”
However, the aesthetics of carved images make it a marketable commodity, even though most carvers in Osogbo and Lagos are complaining bitterly about low turnover. “I don’t want to limit myself to the Nigerian market. I plan to export my products abroad, but it’s not been easy, I must say. Different economic policies have posed a serious challenge. But I hope one of my plans will materialise,” says Adebanbo with a spark of enthusiasm in his eyes.
But despite this challenge that carvers face, the place of wood carving remains unequalled for most collectors, as a result of its beauty and functionality.
This hazy harmattan afternoon, the misty cold, a hangover from the early hours of the morning, still hangs loosely in the air as artisans hurriedly go about their business at the Oke fia area of Osogbo. School children just returning from school are decked out in their sweat-soaked uniforms under the scorching rays of the sun. A few yards away, two women quibble over two pieces of iced fish. At a motor park overlooking the railway line, bus conductors shout their destination to the hearing of passers-by who seem disinterested in the noise around them. It seems unbelievable that creative works which grace shrines, homes across the country nay the world are actually produced in this raucous area.
Meanwhile, Adebanbo Osuntomi is at work in front of his home which doubles as his workshop. He picks up a saw to cut a piece of wood into equal halves, but it appears the edge of the saw isn’t sharp enough. Hence, he is forced to expend another ounce of energy before it obeys his command. He sniffs hard at the piece he wants to work on, nods with approval, picks up a chisel and hammer, and begins to creatively carve out an image he alone can understand.
“The secret of the wood lies in the carver,” Adebanbo explains, while using the back of his hand to wipe off beads of sweat from his forehead. “It’s is not known to the ordinary eye. I can use a piece of wood as a base for the figure or I can decide to use it as the figure itself. I can use it as human shadow. I can turn it into anything, depending on what comes into my mind.”
True to his words, there are many things inside a lifeless log of wood which an ordinary person cannot see. This is why it becomes incredible that out of these logs, Adebanbo and his men fashion out beautiful images that have become the toast of many tourists within and outside the country.
What these men do not know as they work their bones sore this afternoon, is that their works are the subject of discussion in classrooms, art showrooms and museums, even in the home of art collectors the world over.
Adebanbo has produced works of art that protect the grooves in Osogbo and beyond from intrusion and decay. His works include well carved images of Soponna and Sango, the Yoruba god of thunder. They are strikingly eclectic images which cannot be ignored even by a non-believer. Adebanbo believes art cannot be disconnected from its religious functions because creativity is part of ritual life. Hence, the fusion of art and religion is at the core of his art and the singular purpose of his work is to protect the sacredness of nature. His works present a mixture of architecture and sculpture.
As far as Adebanbo is concerned, the best wood for his work is Ebony, although he uses Tick and Apia. “I use Apia for wood door that comes with images on them. I use Apia because it is durable,” he says. Although they get wood supplies from sellers at times, Adebanbo and his apprentice go to the woods in search of logs for their craft. The price depends on the size. It could be N5, 000 or N6, 000. As he explains, “We can make many images from a log of wood. It depends on the height and the size of the image that I want to carve.”
Wood carving is more than the artistry involved in the craft. The Yoruba are more apt to think of the art as an act of Oju’na in the Yoruba dialect, meaning “creative imagination.” They believe the creative imagination is executed with skill and an understanding of the subject, rather than seeing wood carving as an object. For them, artistry is the exploration and imaginative recreation of received ideas and forms, usually from the divine. It is a vital part of being, and creativity is associated with the divine. Therefore, the work of a wood carver is a blend of creativity and the divine, beauty and functionality.
For a practitioner of the trade like Stanley Osarenren, wood carving is a statement about humanity or some aspects of human life, besides which it is an intuition of truth about the natural world.
“For the designs, I don’t use pictures. I will call it a gift. We all have our specialties as carvers. As for me, I specialise in abstract works. For instance, I just finished working on two lovers abstract. There is another one named ‘figure’. This is the figure of a woman carrying a pot. It could also be that of a woman carrying a baby. This form of carving is realistic carving. It is human,” explains Osarenren. Hence, wood carving is a means of conveying an intuition about divinity. These artisans are simply using their craft as an expression of their inner beings.
Since Nigerian culture is intrinsically woven with African religion, carved images are a mediating factor for both religion and culture in Nigeria. The predominant rituals in creative works like wood carving become even clearer with the appreciation of the fact that both art and religion were considered twins of the same transcendental offshoot.
Thus, for faithful of the traditional religion, visible forms are but mirrors of the unutterable myth of earth and heaven reflecting on each other. If art expresses reality in images and religion expresses ultimate reality in symbols, then religious art expresses religious symbols in artistic images. Wood carving is therefore the meeting point for the finite and infinite, and the functionality of the craft occupies a significant place in this enterprise.
For most collectors, the meaning ascribed to carved images could provide paradigms for the consideration of their functions. Such images functions as a tool to maintain a concept of reality by giving form to the ideas or observations of not only the individual but the carvers themselves. These ideas or observations are translated into concrete forms by the carvers who at times are ignorant of the functionality of their craft.
“Wood carving is functional in many ways,” says Odia Ofeimun, poet and literary critic. It preserves and enhances a people’s culture for it serves as a method of record keeping and makes culture mobile. Historical records are embedded in forms of art, which serve as a means of preserving the people’s culture. Most times, they function as objects of worship.”
Another function of images carved from wood is the aesthetics. It brings beauty to the home. Often times, however, there is an overlap between these functions, hence art could entertain, express a people’s idea of reality and record their history all at once. What is implausible is for art to fail in performing at least one of the aforementioned functions at any given time or space.
“Wood carving is a form of visual art,” says Adropo Ewenla, a student of visual art at a state university. Works of art consist of two elements, the inner and the outer as well as two levels of knowledge, esoteric and exoteric. The esoteric knowledge level usually informs the inner element of art through knowledge, which is informed by the artist’s intended meaning for his work.”
Therefore, this could be a story that goes with the work of art, the content of which may consist of private or public concerns. This knowledge is accessible to a few people, the artist in this case. “The outer element of art gives expression to the inner element and manifests at the exoteric knowledge level, for it is accessible to all. It is expressed in aesthetic values and decorations. The outer element gives the images carved their visible and audible qualities. Both elements are significant and affect their performance or presentation,” Ewenla adds.
However, a new generation of artists is looking at other modern forms through which they can express themselves. Ubong Boniface is a carver at Mende Maryland in Lagos. He represents a new generation of carvers whose works have found expression in different forms of art. “I learnt wood work but nor carving,” he explains. “I do what I call ‘cut and paste’ technique. After I was tutored by my friend’s father, I became learned in the art. I realised that I can paint but I decided to go for sculptor. I find it the most expressive and it is more lucrative.”
In the meantime, Boniface is putting finishing touches to a piece he titled Back from Labour. His kind of art which he named “fibre glass” comes under sculpture. This is another more modern form that he uses to express his creativity. A 2 by 3 piece of Back from Labour, he says, could earn him N15, 000 or more depending on the status of the customer. “Before you do any art,” he advises, “you have to dream it. You have to finish everything inside your mind so that it will come out the way you want it.”
However, the aesthetics of carved images make it a marketable commodity, even though most carvers in Osogbo and Lagos are complaining bitterly about low turnover. “I don’t want to limit myself to the Nigerian market. I plan to export my products abroad, but it’s not been easy, I must say. Different economic policies have posed a serious challenge. But I hope one of my plans will materialise,” says Adebanbo with a spark of enthusiasm in his eyes.
But despite this challenge that carvers face, the place of wood carving remains unequalled for most collectors, as a result of its beauty and functionality.
The telephone conversation
FUNKE ADETUTU
Some days back, I was on a bus for a fun trip to some fascinating places outside of Lagos. Riding on a big bus like that was quite interesting, especially with the variety of faces on it, most of them unfamiliar. All the same, it was fun to meet new people. At least, it’s not a bad idea to add one or two friends to the bagful I already have.
Although it wasn’t a long trip, it was short enough to create the right atmosphere for the camaraderie characteristic of a group trip. As with most outings beyond Lagos or the country, it was a good time to relive the last moment we all had with our loved ones. And some people had to make last-minute telephone calls.
But you see, what surprised me the most that day was the rate at which the calls poured in. it was really amazing that almost everybody on board was receiving calls at the same time. What a cacophony of voices it was! While some spoke in whispers, others shouted at the top of their voices.
“Yes, we are on our way,” someone said behind me. “Kola, I need 4, 000. Please, let me have it before next Monday,” said another person. “What does he need 4, 000 for?”
“4, 000 what?” I asked myself. As if the speaker could read my mind, he responded: “4, 000 litres of diesel for the generator in the office.”
“Oh, I see. It’s diesel and not naira,” I said again to myself.
Just then, another person burst into a hilarious laughter that could turn a corpse in its grave. For most of us, it was so unusual for anyone to have laughed so loud alone, but then, cell phones have made just about anything possible.
When the environment became a bit less noisy, the various telephone conversations brought to my mind Wole Soyinka’s use of irony to depict the absurdity of racism in his poem, Telephone Conversation. But this time, I’ll take some steps away from Soyinka by calling my experience “the absurdity of humour,” which means laughing aloud without anyone else around. The speaker of Soyinka’s poem, a dark West African man searching for a new apartment, tells the story of a telephone call he made to a potential landlady. Instead of discussing price, location, amenities, and other information significant to the apartment, they ended up discussing the speaker’s skin colour. The landlady is described as a polite, well-bred woman, even though she is shown to be shallowly racist. The speaker is described as being genuinely apologetic for his skin colour, even though he has no reason to be sorry for something which he was born with and has no control over.
In short, the speaker is an intelligent person by reason of his use of high diction and quick wit, not the savage that the landlady assumes he is because of his skin colour. All of these discrepancies between what appears to be and what really is create a sense of verbal irony that helps the poem display the ridiculousness of racism.
Coming back to that afternoon, all the speakers were in a world of their own! They did not narrate their experiences after the conversations, but just recoiled to themselves, smiling secretly. You know, that kind of smile that usually refuses to leave the face long after the conversation has ended.
And so, one of the speakers who sat close to me heaved a sigh and began a kind of self-confession about a date she was supposed to honour but would be unable to because of the trip. The speaker had lied to the other person that she was on Victoria Island, whereas she was heading towards Ibadan! It is ironic that I call it a self-confession since the speaker had nothing to confess because she had done nothing wrong. In fact, I was enjoying the conversation since the phone was a bit loud. What the person on the other end said came through clearly, thanks to GSM technology! But making the speaker actually seem sorry for her lies showed how ridiculous it really was for me to let her know I was listening in on the conversation. Nonetheless, it seemed almost comical to me that anyone would tell such a brazen lie in the first place.
Some days back, I was on a bus for a fun trip to some fascinating places outside of Lagos. Riding on a big bus like that was quite interesting, especially with the variety of faces on it, most of them unfamiliar. All the same, it was fun to meet new people. At least, it’s not a bad idea to add one or two friends to the bagful I already have.
Although it wasn’t a long trip, it was short enough to create the right atmosphere for the camaraderie characteristic of a group trip. As with most outings beyond Lagos or the country, it was a good time to relive the last moment we all had with our loved ones. And some people had to make last-minute telephone calls.
But you see, what surprised me the most that day was the rate at which the calls poured in. it was really amazing that almost everybody on board was receiving calls at the same time. What a cacophony of voices it was! While some spoke in whispers, others shouted at the top of their voices.
“Yes, we are on our way,” someone said behind me. “Kola, I need 4, 000. Please, let me have it before next Monday,” said another person. “What does he need 4, 000 for?”
“4, 000 what?” I asked myself. As if the speaker could read my mind, he responded: “4, 000 litres of diesel for the generator in the office.”
“Oh, I see. It’s diesel and not naira,” I said again to myself.
Just then, another person burst into a hilarious laughter that could turn a corpse in its grave. For most of us, it was so unusual for anyone to have laughed so loud alone, but then, cell phones have made just about anything possible.
When the environment became a bit less noisy, the various telephone conversations brought to my mind Wole Soyinka’s use of irony to depict the absurdity of racism in his poem, Telephone Conversation. But this time, I’ll take some steps away from Soyinka by calling my experience “the absurdity of humour,” which means laughing aloud without anyone else around. The speaker of Soyinka’s poem, a dark West African man searching for a new apartment, tells the story of a telephone call he made to a potential landlady. Instead of discussing price, location, amenities, and other information significant to the apartment, they ended up discussing the speaker’s skin colour. The landlady is described as a polite, well-bred woman, even though she is shown to be shallowly racist. The speaker is described as being genuinely apologetic for his skin colour, even though he has no reason to be sorry for something which he was born with and has no control over.
In short, the speaker is an intelligent person by reason of his use of high diction and quick wit, not the savage that the landlady assumes he is because of his skin colour. All of these discrepancies between what appears to be and what really is create a sense of verbal irony that helps the poem display the ridiculousness of racism.
Coming back to that afternoon, all the speakers were in a world of their own! They did not narrate their experiences after the conversations, but just recoiled to themselves, smiling secretly. You know, that kind of smile that usually refuses to leave the face long after the conversation has ended.
And so, one of the speakers who sat close to me heaved a sigh and began a kind of self-confession about a date she was supposed to honour but would be unable to because of the trip. The speaker had lied to the other person that she was on Victoria Island, whereas she was heading towards Ibadan! It is ironic that I call it a self-confession since the speaker had nothing to confess because she had done nothing wrong. In fact, I was enjoying the conversation since the phone was a bit loud. What the person on the other end said came through clearly, thanks to GSM technology! But making the speaker actually seem sorry for her lies showed how ridiculous it really was for me to let her know I was listening in on the conversation. Nonetheless, it seemed almost comical to me that anyone would tell such a brazen lie in the first place.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)