UNDER THE SILENT EYE OF LENIN

ART AFRICA ISSUE 10 / 2017

In 1975, Portugal withdrew as a colonial power from Angola. At the peak of the Cold War, the United States and the Soviet Union had used the fight for Angolan independence as an opportunity to sway the ideological leanings of the country. Backed by the Soviet Union and Cuban, the MPLA (Movimento Popular de Libertação de Angola) secured Luanda, Angola’s capital. Since 1975, the MPLA maintained its dominance during the extended and brutal Angolan civil war that finally ended in 2002.

Kiluanji Kia Henda, the recipient of this year’s Frieze Artists Award, was born in Luanda in 1979, four years after independence. Kia Henda is the fourth artist to receive the Frieze Artists Award commission, and the first to be from an African country. The award is part of Frieze Projects, the non-profit programme of the otherwise very commercial Frieze London.

Kia Henda’s winning proposal, Under the Silent Eye of Lenin is described as a “performative installation”. It looks at the legacy of the Marxism-Leninism doctrine adopted in Angola after independence, a result of Angola’s close ties with the USSR before and after independence. Kia Henda saw first-hand the amalgamation of Angolan and Russian identities and doctrines; it is this relationship he explores in ‘Under the Silent Eye of Lenin’.

In an interview with Raphael Gygax, curator of Frieze Projects, Kia Henda explains his approach to creatively interpreting historical events. “I have always had an enormous fascination with history, but I never wanted to be a historian. I prefer to preserve the freedom of being an artists and to be able to approach history without being bound by the rigour demanded by science. In other words, the legitimacy that fiction gives us to fantasise or even manipulate is also an excellent way of learning in such an unpredictable world.” Kia Henda’s work for the Frieze Award takes Angola’s national history as a starting point, weaving in fictional narratives, religious-like communist doctrine and witchcraft practices into a compelling and rich installation. 

Under the Silent Eye of Lenin is displayed in an enclosed space just inside the entrance to the Frieze London fair. Isolated from the rest of the fair, it feels like you are viewing a self-contained work or exhibition, rather than a gallery stand. This enhances the engagement with the work – away from the visual background noise of other works vying for attention, the work is viewed in relationship to itself only.

The walls are painted black, creating an intimate yet imposing space. One wall is covered with screenprinted ‘posters’, incorporating black-and-white photography and communist symbols and text, resembling Russian constructivist posters of the 1910 and 1920s. The photographs depict happy Russian and Angolan soldiers in groups, sometimes with smiling children. These ‘posters’ share the room with the imposing idealogical figure that is Vladimir Lenin. 

Under the Silent Eye of Lenin uses a stylised Lenin bust as a motif, somewhere between classical European marble busts and traditional wood carving by Chokwe craftsmen. (Chikukuango Cuxima-Zwa, a British/Angolan performance artist, describes Chokwe as “the name of the language and culture of one of the most important ethnic groups in Angolan culture”.)

One of these stylised Lenin busts is on a long plinth covered in black feathers, facing a television displaying a looped video of a wooden Lenin bust being carved. The physical bust watching the creation of a bust on the screen raises practical and ideological questions. Is the figure in the room watching itself being made? Or is the video of one of the other busts in the installation being carved? Is each bust simply one of many, a replica of an original design, just as Lenin the myth is so much more than Lenin the man?

Lenin is both a man and a myth, and in Kia Hendi’s installation we see him as both.

A Russian voice narrates the creation of the bust on the television (subtitled in English), as if the voice is Lenin himself, philosophising on his existence as an idol. He muses on his move from the cold Northern Hemisphere to the warm South, and the concept of ideology and meaning as it applies to him. Lenin is both a man and a myth, and in Kia Hendi’s installation we see him as both. The surreal voice-over lends a human quality to the video, even while the voice is referring to ‘itself’ as an idol or a symbol, rather than a person. 

Another Lenin bust, this one painted black, shares the room, lying almost submerged in a plinth filled with sand – just his face and chest (bearing a large red star) are visible. This version of Lenin seems introspective, gazing upwards at nothing, the red star slightly submerged in the sand. 

Behind a wall is the final Lenin, a disconcerting figure that echoes the other two, yet without any of the introspection contained in the first room. His eyes are painted bright white, ominously glowing against the darkness. The bust is covered in large rusty nails, again everywhere except for his face and the star on his chest. The sculpture is placed atop a high plinth and covered in a transparent black veil. Directly behind the veiled figure is a large red symbol, a crest made from wheat and featuring the ever-present soviet star. In contrast to the thoughtful and almost submissive Lenin’s encountered initially, this final manifestation is a formidable figure. 

In his artists statement for Frieze, Kia Henda explains some of the themes he is exploring in his installation: “Despite being a political doctrine that rejected religion, the way that Marxism-Leninism was indoctrinated during the revolution demanded strict loyalty and unquestionable belief, similar to religious practice.” Kia Henda’s work captures the religious fanaticism inherent in the Marxism-Leninism ideology within an Angolan context, where witchcraft and propaganda combined to create a new set of idols, at times benevolent and at others frightening.

By Siobhan Keam for Art Africa.