“Her constant excavation of her process, the constant excavation of her own ideas, and her breaking boundaries within that” are what makes Wangechi so interesting,” Enwezor lauded at the award luncheon in New York. Artistic director of the 56th Venice Biennale in 2015, Enwezor gave Wangechi a pride of space in the coveted Giardini where she presented a three-piece showcase: a sculpture of a multi-horned encaged bronze mermaid She’s Got the Whole World; a collage painting Forbidden Fruit Picker; and a video The End of Carrying It All, an apocalyptic visual of a Sisyphus figure battling the elements in a vast windblown landscape.
After years of biding time for an interview I finally caught up with the diva around her magistral installation in the Giardini. She was surrounded by a bevy of groupies. The scrum around her was such that all I got was being roped in as an extra in the fashion photo shoot in which she was starring. No time to talk beyond sharing her “admiration and gratitude” for Enwezor. The year before, in 2014, another diasporic mover & shaker Simon Njami of Africa Remix fame included Wangechi in a select group of artists for an artistic enactment of Dante’s “The Divine Comedy. Heaven, hell, purgatory revisited by African Contemporary Artists” which Njami curated at the Museum of Modern Art, Frankfurt. In April the stupendously successful show travelled to the National Museum of African Art, Washington DC, for a 4-month run. Wangechi’s collage, “The Storm Has Finally Made It Out of Me, Alhamdulillah,” depicting a mystical creature with an explosion emanating from her midsection, was located in hell among other works.
In one of her most recent stunning sculptural works, Second Dreamer Wangechi unabashedly took from Brancusi’s 1910 Sleeping Muse, which the RomanianFrenchman had borrowed from Africa’s totemic masks. Thus, we now have Africa to Europe to America to Africa! There’s also her Water Woman, an ebony-black sheen sculpture of Nguva or Mami Water of African folklore, depicted as a nubile with a fetching pair of tits and a lower body of slithery fish; a harking back to the millennia of mermaid mythology also shared by Starbucks’ on their coffee cups. Wangechi has been quoted as using “the aesthetic of rejection and wretchedness to explore the hopeful or sublime.” The titles of her works are a world of its own, trenchant, instantly resonant, with deep hidden meanings – never perfunctory, as is the wont of too many among her peers. They surge from the wellspring of her creativity, embodying uplifting pathos, rarely descending into bathos. Sample: Riding Death in My Sleep, 2002, Misguided Little Unforgivable Hierarchies, 2005, The Bride Who Married a Camel’s Head, 2009, The End of eating Everything, 2013, Hundred lavish months of bushwhack and Intertwined, which is one of my favs, showing two scantily clad small-titted damsels with heads of hunting dogs gnawing each other’s tongue. Does Wangechi like her women small-titted?
In 17 years since college Wangechi’s exhibitions and awards would be the envy of older artists with decades of practice. Someone recently described her art as “like seeing the world through a shaman’s eyes.” Well, the fact is Wangechi is the shaman.
In 2006-2016 of her 20 solo shows 70% were in museums and public institutions,30% in private galleries. of her 155 group shows 86% were in museums and public institutions, 14% in galleries.