1:54 Forum: Sindika Dokolo in conversation with Osei Bonsu

It is clear to me, that unless we Africans celebrate our own creation, cultures and values, this nonsense will perpetuate itself through many more generations. One day, the art of El Anatsui, Bili Bidjocka, Yinka Shonibare or Kendell Geers could be presented as anecdotic – or even worse, not particularly African. I decided when I created the Sindika Dokolo Foundation with my friends, the Angolan artist Fernando Alvim, and the Cameroonian curator Simon Njami, that something needed to be done to break this self-diminishing vicious circle.

The collection has expanded both in terms of its scope and ambition. Was your aim always to branch out in such a way by establishing a collection that would later become a public organisation? What did you learn over this period?
I don’t see myself as a collector, but more as a cultural operator. A collection is just a juxtaposition of objects. In a sense, it is sterile. Its only relevance is how it impacts on people. French businessman François Pinault acquired the Palazzo Grassi in Venice for that reason. Bernard Arnault is doing the same thing in Paris with the Louis Vuitton Foundation. As an African, it is even more important for me.

Exposing the African public to its own contemporary creation, is the added value of what I do in African art; its relevance. Being established as a foundation helps me reach more people. It also made me understand the highly political issues around cultural activity, especially on our continent.

Clearly one of the most important things about the collection is its mission to be an “African collection of contemporary art” and not a “collection of contemporary African Art”.

Why is this distinction so important? How do you feel the collection has impacted the African art scene?
The collection is African, because it is based in Africa, owned by an African, and has the objective of creating as many dynamics on the African art scene as possible. As an art enthusiast, I refuse to limit my interest to a geographical area, or to the colour of the skin of the artists that I collect. I celebrate “Africanity”, which I define as the African influence in the history of art and our global aesthetics in general.

Our continent, its cultures and people, have influenced the global way of life in more ways than we care to admit. It goes from music, sports, the aesthetics of politics, to the way people talk, walk or eat. That is the reason why I’ve decided to incorporate artists like Warhol, Barceló or Basquiat in the first African pavilion of the Venice Biennale. Though they’re not African they produce vibrant images of “Africanity”.

How do you feel the collection has impacted the African art scene, specifically in Luanda?
I strongly believe that one can never be stronger outside than inside. For my art foundation, I’ve established a plan of activities that prioritises the Angolan market. We’ve created the triennial of contemporary art in Luanda, and the third edition will be held next year. We also work with a number of Angolan artists, to help them perfect their work, and to sell locally. We commission important pieces that can be exhibited and recognised internationally. It is the case for artists like Binelde Hyrcan, Yonamine, Kiluanje Kia Henda or more recently Edson Chagas.

We also believe strongly in the principle of reciprocity in art, to reposition our continent in the art world’s circuits. We accept invitations to participate in exhibitions around the world, but demand as a sine qua none, the condition that the same museum brings the exhibition onto African soil, to the country of their choice. These principles should in time, have a structural impact on the way the art world relates to Africa, and vice-versa.