June 16, 2019
Mark listens to the docents introduce us to the museum
After the late night party, we were all slow getting going in the morning. It was 10:30 before we were in the van and headed to the Museum of African Contemporary Art. It was no ordinary museum. It was not large, but it was spectacular in its content and purpose. Even Mark hung around to learn the meaning of each piece. Here is a sampling of the art we experienced.
Acrylic on canvas,” Eyram, Yellow is the Color of Water”, Jeremiah Quarshie (Ghana)2015.About women’s need for water and the difficulties of carrying it. This is the only painted image in the exhibition.
First of all, there was only one piece that was painted, a western mode of art not culturally African. The rest of the collection was made up of artifacts found in the local culture and turned into eclectic, meaningful and artful works that required thought to understand the intent. I am including several pieces so you can get a sense of the place for yourself. Nezha had arranged for us to have the museum to ourselves. The two head docents shared their knowledge and insights with us at each piece. That alone made the tour a special experience.
A concrete and steel sculpture that reads, in Arabic, “Liberty.” However, the word is in concrete nailed to the wall with a steel plate over the middle of it. The message is that Liberty has not become free. I found this piece very visceral.
Large-scale sculpture of fake acrylic nails by Frances Goodman. Subtle subversion of stereotypes that continue to surround women and their interest in the surface presentation of self. I found the image both appealing and intense.
Found objects like used toothbrushes and discarded soap dispenser caps make this an interesting commentary on how people use and discard things.
For me, the artists presented, collectively, a feeling of HOPE. They are not looking to the past, but working to effect change, positive change now, for the future. I think everyone in our group came away feeling moved.
Around the corner from the museum is the golf course, where lunch was waiting.
Then we were off to lunch at the nearby golf course. It was a pretty setting and a super salad came without us having to order. It was perfect for everyone at our table and we thought we were done, when a beef and chicken tagine arrived. Suddenly, it was way too much food, even if it was tasty. I stopped.
We all agreed to a short visit to the medina to spend some money. Mark and I wandered around reminiscing about our last visit here 25+ years ago. Nothing seemed to have changed. Crowded and noisy. Shopkeepers all peddling the same goods, sellers dogging us while lowering their price as we kept walking, irascible snake charmers and sluggish snakes. We found a pleasant shopkeeper and settled in to buy some scarves. We had a nice visit and learned he had been in that spot for 34 years and business was always just OK. Now there are more people, but more vendors too.
Feeling hot for the first time on this trip, we walked back to where we were to meet the van and were happy to sit down in the air conditioned vehicle. Nearly everyone had made a purchase and we had a show and tell on the way back to Janen Mayshad.
We had a couple of hours to clean up and rest before the 8pm concert. Other guests had been invited too, so by 7:30 the garden was filling with folks all dressed up. At 8pm, Joel Revzen and Susan Graham made their appearance and we all took seats in the living room in front of the borrowed Steinway.
Susan Graham sings for the delighted audience.
While Joel played, Susan sang selections from Summer Nights by Hector Berlioz and Women’s Life and Love by Robert Schumann.
The music and singing were delightful and received a standing ovation. By 9:30 everyone was in the garden drinking wine and eating small dishes of food delivered one course at a time. Mark and I said good night about 11:30, but the party carried on until 4am for some folks. Fortunately for us, the revelers relocated to the pool area and all was quiet outside our window.
Adventures with Julia 