Tuli-Mekondjo & Helen Harris
Ovakwanaidhi/ Those of the grass, a street performance is a 4-minute video recording of a live performance that took place in 2018. In this work Tuli Mekondjo walks on Independence avenue carrying a woven grass basket on her head. From the basket she carefully lays out many discreet, individual pieces of wet clay each shaped like a cow. Over the course of the performance she destroys these pieces while looking at a cell phone. The clay is then re-amalgamated into one large cow. This artwork represents something more complex than the simple erasure of tradition. In her work Mekondjo is speaking to a re-shaping and a re-moulding that is violent but also resilient. Mekondjo asserts a link with a pre-colonial past that, over time, has not so much eroded, as evolved. HH: This work existed first in the form of a live performance and then transmuted through recording into a secondary piece, the video. Do you think of the video as a work in its own right or as just a recording of a work? TM: I suppose the video could pass as an artwork on its own. When I asked Vilho (Vilho Nuumbala) to do the recording for me, I didn’t have a script to direct him on how I wanted the performance to be documented. I was hoping that, since the performance was on a busy street, whatever Vilho captured with his camera would be random and not ‘’stylized’’ or choreographed. I was amazed by the response, the moment I stopped and placed my basket on the pavement, strangers stopped walking and formed a crowd, they took out their cell phones and started recording what was happening. I didn’t expect a crowd. The video is an artwork in itself, it records the mundane act of ‘’crowd forming’’. What triggers the need to stop and look/investigate as a collective? Why was it important for some viewers to record the performance with their phones instead of capturing it with their eyes? Does it make more sense to view the performance through the screen of a smartphone? The recording captured not only a performance but also the current state of thinking in this age of technology and electronic devices. HH: I would like to know more about the costume that you wear in the video, from the other works I have seen of yours costume seems to play a central role. Relating to this I also wonder if when you perform or photograph yourself, are you creating a persona/ character, or do you see this as an expression of your individual identity? Of course, it could be both or neither. TM: Yes, being in costume is very important to me because I have a fascination with costumes made from natural/organic materials. I’m always impressed by the ingenuity and creativity of the many diverse cultures/tribes living on the African continent and how our hands are capable of inventing beautiful costumes from natural fibres. Before cloth/fabric was introduced widely on the continent (even though some tribes were expert weavers of cloth) amazing attires were made from tree bark for traditional rituals, dance, every-day-wear and story-telling (kishikish/animal totems). My costume is not only an expression of individuality or creating a character. I’m very much paying homage to my clan’s totem, which is grass (maternal side) which I find very interesting because it is a plant, most totems are animals. I like using raffia because it is organic and very much resembles a type of grass in colour. Whenever I put on the raffia costume, I’m reminded of my own fragility and that I am also made up of organic matter. I am also reminded of the resilience of grass and how it is fodder for cattle. There is this unique dependency between the two (grass and cattle). I’m proud to belong to a plant totem because I’m organic, shooting from the soil and sustaining life. Being in costume also allows me to question how we (Aawambo) had lost the art of creating organic attire made from cow hides and plant fibres (Oihanango’s coming -of- age costumes during olufuko) due to the introduction of Christianity. Have we lost this art forever? Will there be a revival? HH: I saw an image on social media in which you wore a similar costume and wore horns on your head. The image was accompanied by the Okahenene song in the caption. Can you tell me more about the image? Is it documentation of another performance, is this a growing body of work? TM: The image on social media is documenting myself trying to connect the two totems of ‘’Ovakwanangobe’’ (cow totem) and ‘’ Ovakwanaidi’’ (grass totem). This image also documents my thought process of creating a performance idea and to test the costumes. Everything is connected in that image, from the Okahenene song, which was sung by the girls during olufuko, the sacrificing of cattle during special events such as funerals/ weddings/ olufuko etc. I realized the importance of intertwining customs and rituals and how cattle are central within the Aawambo state of being and survival. HH: I am hesitant to talk about cattle as purely symbolic because of the very real and tangible role that they still play in people’s lives. Of course, in the realm of art making everything has the potential to take on symbolic meaning, do you think you might be able to define this meaning a little further for me? TM: Well, to me cattle represent the embodiment of the spirits of the ancestors. Cattle are both the pulse and lifeline, they are a symbol of the wealth of lineage. During some traditional spiritual rituals, a completely black bull would be slaughtered as an offering to the ancestors and to appease the spirits in conflict. In some special cases the cries/howling of cattle is the
bearer of good or bad news. Symbolism will always remain central during my process of art making and when I look at traditional Oshiwambo folklore and mythological stories about ‘’Omakishi’’ and about the physical and spiritual embodiments of the various clans’ totems for example, I have discovered valuable information that inspires my work and enables my mind/ soul to dream and that has helped me come up with symbolically infused performances. I have discovered that I’m able to think of a mahangu field and in that process I came up with an idea for a performance about ‘’Wamadu’’, she is mythical and is the embodiment of the dirt we toil to grow mahangu from. HH: One of the things I enjoyed in the film was seeing people filming you with their cell phones as you performed. In some way it seemed as if they were performing with you. Do you think that this work can be re-performed or was it final in that moment? Have you thought about different contexts in which it might be performed? TM: You know, first and foremost I like to see myself as a ‘’canvas artist’’ and everything else, the performances that I do, are an extension of whatever is left on the canvas and vice versa. I can never say that the performances are final because after reviews and self-critism, I always discover new elements that I can add on. I really like the idea of doing the street performance again in a darkened room, with a single light source hanging from the ceiling, the idea would be to focus only on the clay cows for example. HH: You have spoken about your work as Janus-faced. Always holding two sides. Could you describe those two sides a little further in relation to this work? TM: Our existence is Janus-faced, if there’s a lack of reflection of where we come from, where we are at the present moment, we would lack imagination of where we are going. My work will always reflect on the past because I am trying to understand who I am and how I relate to customs and traditions in this present moment. Even though we are evolving culturally, it is important to preserve where we come from because that will always remain our cultural blueprint. HH: In the artwork the clay transforms from many discreet, individual pieces into one large piece. The destruction that takes place is followed by a re-making, a reamalgamation. Is this resolution a hope for the future or a reflection on the present? TM: I would like to believe it is both a hope for the future and a reflection of the present and the past. The many cows represent a people that were at some point deeply rooted within their culture, customs, rituals and belief systems before converting to Christianity. During the process of transitioning to Christianity, a ‘’death of the coiffures’’ emerged, heads were clean shaven, hairstyles that represented a gateway to womanhood and manhood were burnt to ashes, representing a ‘’death’’ of rituals and a ‘’birth’’ of modernity rooted in Christianity. Traditional names were abandoned and Christian names were embraced. The large single cow is a reflection of the present and a hope for the future. Even though Christianity was embraced, Aawambo people are very much still connected to most of their cultural belief systems. I would like to imagine that in the present times Christianity and traditional customs are both respected and there is a strong emphasis to pass on important rituals/ customs to the next generation. I’m using the cattle as symbolic sign of regeneration, not only in the physical sense but a spiritual reawakening and to reconnect with our ancestors through our various clan totems. HH: In your work you draw from many sources, however in the final piece you are alone. Do you think of your work as collaborative in some way? TM: It’s an interesting question that I’m suddenly thinking deeply about. I suppose one could also conclude that, even though I am alone during the performances, it’s very much a cultural collaboration because I’m drawing inspiration not only from my cultural beliefs but also from the various rituals/ structures within the customs (eg: coming of age ceremonies, the role of the “onganga”, child naming ceremonies) and the day-to day struggles of the ordinary women toiling the soil, raising children and still remaining the backbones of their homesteads, communities and preserving cultural customs/ beliefs. It would be a shame to isolate my practice or to dismiss the notion that I am in collaboration. Without these various sources, I wouldn’t be able to create a blueprint that would give birth to the performances. I believe in order to create anything, there has to be a connection with ones subject matter. This connection could be personal, cultural, based in community, activism, politics, trauma, etc. but at the core of it all, it is the duty of the artist to acknowledge the intimate connections that led to being inspired and to have a collaboration within the work itself, which is basically the core of the work/ labour. TULI MEKONJO OVAKWANAIDHI/ THOSE OF THE GRASS, A STREET PERFORMANCE 2018 DIGITAL VIDEO AND SOUND, 4MINS DIMENSIONS VARIABLE UNLIMITED EDITION LINK: HTTPS://VIMEO.COM/259864618
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