An attentive reader spotted a Baule figure in the movie poster for The Disembodied (1957). This movie prop is featured a couple of times in the movie, which is about a voodoo cult deep in the ‘African’ jungle. The only ritual use this figure ever had was in its scenes with the witch doctor’s wife, Tonda (Allison Hayes). Its style clearly is very degenerate, and especially the ‘headdress’ is something that doesn’t exist. You can find more info about this voodoo thriller (yes, that’s a genre) here.
Tonda’s arm position on the above picture in turn reminded me of a classic Djenne pose 🙂
Last night, I discovered that Francisco Scaramanga, the antagonist of James Bond in The Man with the Golden Gun, was an African art collector. When 007 gets invited for lunch at Scaramanga’s island hideaway, the two first cross the living quarters where two big African works of art are on display. First, we see a big Senufo bird figure (sejen) from Ivory Coast, followed by a classic Yoruba epa mask from Nigeria. Unfortunately I could not track down neither of the works – no surprise since the island explodes at the end of the movie 🙂 Anyhow, I guess the set designers wanted to illustrate the sophisticated nature of this villain, portraying him as an non-Western art collector.
ps apologies for the blurry image quality, these are snapshots from my tv.
An amazing discovery during the BBC’s Antiques Roadshow: a woman was weeding in her garden and found the above Hei-tiki buried in the ground in a cloth pouch. Check out the video clip here.
Baule figure. Height: 68 cm. Image courtesy of The Barnes Foundation (A221).
Thanks to a tip of a kind reader, I’ve been able to localize the Baule figure featured in the previously described “La maladie noire” postcard: it’s currently held by the Barnes Foundation (info). Albert C. Barnes in all likelihood acquired it directly from Paul Guillaume between 1922 and 1924 (like the majority of the collection).
Further sleuthing revealed the original black&white image of the statue which Albert Guillaume used as an inspiration for his postcard; it was published in 1926 by Thomas Munro and Paul Guillaume in Primitive Negro Sculpture” (p. 89 & 91, #21). Albert Guillaume only slightly exaggerated the buttocks and clearly truthfully reproduced the statue in his postcard.
This makes this postcard even more exciting, as it may have represented an event that really happened – so I started wondering about all those characters: the portrayed collector might be Dr. Albert C. Barnes himself (although he was not bald). Anyhow, the man behind him clearly is no one other than Paul Guillaume ! Note his typical mustache and hairdo.
In the just-published catalogue about the African Art collection of the Barnes Foundation (details here), where the sculpture is published as Plate 20b, Susan Vogel notes (p. 132) that “the figure was among the most expensive African sculptures that Barnes acquired, and it remained one he considered very important: he had it reproduced in tile at the museum entrance and it was prominently published”. Barnes himself published the figure as 14th century in an essay, “The Temple” in the May 24 issue of Opportunity (reproduced by Christa Clarke on p. 57). That date might seem funny, but know that Paul Guillaume used to attach metal labels with such dates on the Inagaki bases he had made for his objects 🙂
ps apologies for the radio silence on my blog these last weeks, I was very occupied with the Paris auctions – on which more later..
UPDATE: a reader has suggested the man on the left in all likelihood is no other than the Felix Féneon !
UPDATE2: David Zemanek just informed me that the round object hanging on the curtains in the back in fact is a Songye dance shield – Bonhams sold a similar (rare and unusual) shield in 2007 (info).
Image courtesy of Bonhams.
I love this postcard. It’s called “La maladie noire” – which freely translates to “The craze for African art”. It is a drawing by Albert Guillaume – I don’t know if he’s related to the famous Paul Guillaume. Looking at the dresses of the women I would say it’s from the 1920s. That the scene is taking place in Paris we know from the title “Salon de Paris”. Central in the scene is a wooden female figure from the Baule (Ivory Coast). On its right we see it’s owner, cigar in the mouth, hands in his pockets, he’s pleased to show off his new acquisition, but his mind is already somewhere else. On his left, his wife rests one hand on his shoulder, while supporting her head with the other; “Mon dieux, what do I have to do with this black goddess in my house?” you see her thinking. Her friends, sitting down, are as mystified about the presence of this enigmatic, yet voluptuous sculpture central in the salon. Most left, an art-critic (or a merchant?) raises his hands, awe-struck by this exotic beauty and praising the eye of the collector. On the right, behind the owner, we find two fellow-collectors. The first, chin up, clearly is convinced that this statue is inferior to the one he has in his own collection; while the man most right has a rather mean posture – with hate observing this craze for African art that is taking place all around him in the Parisian art circles. In other words, most likely a perfect rendering of what was happening in the salons those days – and sometimes still is..
UPDATE: a reader was so kind to send me a link with more information about Albert Guillaume, find it here.
UPDATE 2: in the meantime, I was able to localize the Baule statue, identified 3 of the featured persons and discovered what that round object in the background is – read all about it here.
Photo: Bruno Claessens. Image courtesy of the Blom Collection, Switzerland.
I was in Switzerland last week and had the pleasure to visit a private collection with a focus on art of the Dogon and Tellem from Mali. One type of objects I had never seen before were the above rock crystal lip plugs. These were found in Tellem caves, close to female neck rests and textiles. Their owner kindly allowed me to share these photos – I photographed the plugs on my hand to get a better idea of their size. It must have taken a long time to shape a piece of rock crystal like this (and a lot of accidental fractures of other examples). Note how one end of each lip plug is crowned by a piece of metal to make sure it would stay in place when being worn in the lower lip. It must have been a spectacular view. Unfortunately nothing is known about their function. Even more impressive were the two examples made in an unidentified type of stone illustrated below.
Photo: Bruno Claessens. Image courtesy of the Blom Collection, Switzerland.
These characteristic lip plugs can often be found on wooden Dogon and Tellem statues, see for example the statue on the book cover below. This book, Dogon. Images & Traditions, was published by the owner of these lip plugs, Huib Blom, in 2010. The book summarizes more than 25 years of research and, including numerous beautiful black-and-white field-photos by the author himself, is highly recommended. If you mention my blog while ordering it here, you’ll get a € 20 discount.
When discussing the correspondence between traditional Luba hairstyles and cicatrization, and the coiffures and body decoration on their chiefly stools, one often encounters the following quote from William Burton’s excellent study Luba religion and magic in custom and belief (1961, p. 24):
So petrified have become the customs of the present in the traditions of the past, that we have known women to go two days journey to see the stool of the chief at Nkulu, that they might settle some little matter as to the correct vogue in cicatrization marks. This stool, carved at least 150 years ago, still sets the fashion, to certain of the Luba in cicatrization.
Burton’s observations are important in that they suggest that, not only did the artists who made the Luba stools copied actual hair and scarification styles, but also that they set a standard of fashion for succeeding generations.
Note that well known is that Burton also photographed this stool in the 1920s, as illustrated above. Unfortunately the details of this field-photo are not very clear – which might explain why this picture hasn’t been published much. However, after some sleuthing I was able to track down this stool (which fortunately survived time) and we now can finally see the cicatrization patterns in detail (click on the picture to zoom).
This stool was sold by Sotheby’s London on 17 June 1991 (lot 150); the Belgian dealer/collector who bought it for £ 63,800 presumably being aware of its importance. Interestingly enough, Burton’s original caption accompanying this field-photo stated: “Stool of office of Nkulu chiefs, 250 years old. Insignia of office carried even in war”. Especially the supposed age of this stool is remarkable; Burton’s informants stating it was made in the 18th century. This shows that many Luba regalia may in fact be much older than we think.
The above Lega mask – 15,3 cm high – was sold at auction in The Netherlands earlier this month. The grandfather of the Belgian owner had collected it between 1906 and 1909 while working as a cartographer in the then Congo Freestate. With an estimate of only € 15,000-20,000 this little mask obviously attracted a lot of attention. It is a very rare opportunity to find a previously unknown ivory Lega mask of this quality, so I was convinced it wouldn’t stay unnoticed. Well, this little treasure didn’t sleep and in the end sold for € 300,000 (without costs) – probably the same result if it would have been sold at one of the bigger auction houses. After having spent fifteen minutes with it, I can say it’s totally worth it.
PS the title of ‘Sleeper’ in this case is thus totally incorrect 🙂
Boa figure. Height: ca. 50 cm.
The above Boa figure was collected by Camille D’Heygere. D’Heygere was stationed in the Congo Free State between 1893 and 1898, first as a deputy prosecutor in Boma, later as a judge in New Antwerp. His collection was sold last week at a small auction in Brussels; all objects were heavily underestimated – which of course attracted a lot of attention. The above Boa figure was sold for € 61,000. Only a handful Boa figure are known, among which three by the same hand as this one. Two other objects with this same provenance were sold: a Mbole figure (which made € 68,000) and a Hungana pendant – sold for € 26,000. All three objects were never published before. The early provenance makes this Mbole figure possibly the first to arrive in the West.
UPDATE: the Mbole figure was bought by Pierre Dartevelle (who exhibited it during Parcours des Mondes 2014) and the Boa figure was acquired by Bernard de Grunne (who showed it during the Biennale des Antiquaires, also in Paris).
Mbole figure. Height: ca. 70 cm.
Hungana pendant. Height: ca. 8 cm.
The above royal Luba cup probably can be crowned as the discovery of 2013. It was sold at a small European auction at the end of last year. The estimate being € 7,5-10K, it was hammered down for € 130.000 ! Not suprisingly, since cups shaped like human heads with twin drinking receptacles on their underside are among the rarest of Luba royal insignia. This example is very close to a cup sold by Sotheby’s in 2010 for € 161K (info). A third is in the Berlin Museum für Völkerkunde (purchased from Hermann Haberer in 1925) and a fourth cup was published in Utotombo (Brussels, 1988: p. 232, #219). Most cups of this type have emanated from Kanyok people and perhaps related groups to the west of the Luba heartland. The Sotheby’s cup has been attributed to a workshop in the Kalundwe region (Felix 1987: 48-49; Neyt 1993: 212), not far from the Luba heartland, as evidenced by certain formal attributes. Some additional pictures:
In the Sotheby’s catalogue, Mary Nooter Roberts made some interesting remarks about the function of these cups:
Luba cups of this sort were documented by the late Albert Maesen, former Head of the Ethnography Section at the Royal Museum of Central Africa in Tervuren, who conducted research and a collecting mission in southern Belgian Congo in the 1950s. Maesen reports that among the Kanyok, royal drinking vessels were the only objects he was not permitted to see in a storeroom in which the ruler’s emblems were guarded, including thrones and scepters. He was allowed to view the rectangular box in which the cups were kept, but he was informed that they were only used during a ruler’s investiture and for other sacred occasions (A. Maesen, personal communication, 1987).
Maesen found that royal cups called musenge were also used in a ceremony to honor paternal ancestral spirits, when a titleholder made an offering of cooked cassava while the ruler communed with his ancestors. The chief counselor named Shinga Hemb drank palm wine from one side of the cup and then passed it to the participants who drank from the other side. Similar acts were performed after divination or at the rising of a new moon (A. Maesen, personal communication, 1982).
The secrecy associated with these royal cups and their limited number suggests another possible association: Early colonial sources and oral traditions point to the importance of the skull of the previous ruler to the investiture of his successor. The skull was the vehicle through which the new ruler obtained power, blessing, and wisdom from his predecessor and validated his own link in the chain of political and moral authority. Quiet contemplation with the skull was essential to investiture, and some writers assert that the king consumed human blood from the cranium, to effect his transformation from an ordinary human being to a semi-divine ruler (Verbeke 1937: 59; Van Avermaet and Mbuya 1954: 709-711; Theuws 1962:216). Indeed, the Luba word for royalty, bulopwe,” refers to “the status of the blood” (Roberts and Roberts 2007:32). It has been asserted that carved wooden cups might have replaced and symbolized the use of skulls in important rituals (Huguette Van Geluwe, personal communication, 1982). Such an assertion remains a hypothetical explanation for the existence of these beautifully carved and carefully concealed cups.