Transmitting Messages to Surfaces in Angry Brushstrokes 

Legendary for his expressionist spontaneity, Lagos-based leading contemporary Nigerian artist, Duke Asidere, takes swipes at Nigeria’s insensitive leadership not just with his words, but also through his art. Okechukwu Uwaezuoke reports 

Obviously, it’s not just about skills alone, as Duke Asidere, curling up his imposing frame on a sofa in his host’s living room, points out. Otherwise, that wouldn’t be art. “We are dealing with emotions and an economy that is almost comatose,” he further reminds his interlocutor, citing a slew of additional woes that the majority of Nigerians are currently groaning under.

Apparently, this is all the justification the heavily-built 62-year-old needs—indeed, all the more reason—to deploy his art as a tool to distil some coherence from the dense cloud of disillusionment and the frustrations looming over the populace. “My art is subject to anything that I think about,” he nicely sums it up, even as he continues to take potshots at Nigeria’s inept leadership throughout that late Sunday, November 19, morning and early afternoon discussion.

The heavy sultriness of this sun-drenched day, meanwhile, hasn’t yet quite fully kicked in, as Asidere, as brutally frank as ever, takes a surgical cut at the Nigerian dilemma. Somewhere along the line, nature has to intervene and demand a break. But, in the meantime, none of the artist’s ebullience and coherence seem to have diminished thus far. Perhaps even more confounding to the Delta State native than the fact that the country’s economy has not so far been run well is the unabashed greed of the Nigerian politician, whose quest for wealth for its sake numbs him to the suffering of the masses.

“How much do these Nigerian politicians really need?” he wonders, in a futile bid to figure out why, amid widespread poverty and wanton neglect of public infrastructure, all these officials seem to care about is buying expensive SUVs and living opulent lifestyles. As a result, meritocracy becomes an inadvertent casualty, and all the pleasant talk about public naming and shaming falls flat because no one has so far been named, let alone shamed. “The ones who know are the ones drinking beer at the beer parlour, while the ones who know nothing are the ones running the country.”

Art, he therefore concludes, should confront all of the evils ailing Nigerian society and question how the government could have spent $12 billion on power while the populace still languishes in darkness. “When you take from the poor, you are draining the energy to live in them.” 

Really, it’s not hard to imagine that the artist is often preoccupied with these thoughts, whose forms whirl around his head in a frenzied medley while he is stuck in one of those notorious Lagos traffic jams or while he is pacing about either of his two studios: the one on the mainland or the one on the island.

Spontaneity—unpredictability, maybe—has, meanwhile, been the defining characteristic of the Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria double alumnus. One clear example of this is his expressionist depictions of images, which he manipulates to better convey his feelings or inner stirrings. To an often-asked question bordering on why many of his paintings are about women, he gives a sharp riposte: “Why not women?” 

This is despite having acknowledged in an earlier encounter that his mother and the women in his home greatly influenced him, which is why the female sex, for him, represents a symbol of grit and inner strength.

For this extensively exhibited artist, letting his canvases suggest ideas to him rather than approaching them with preconceived notions is the way to go. “Colour is the only thing that drives me when I paint,” he discloses, adding that each pigment in his palette seems to be in competition with each other, vying for his attention and begging to be used. It eventually all boils down to engaging the known as well as the invisible and unknown.

Then, there is also the mind-boggling unpredictability of his daily routine, which sees him sometimes waking up to paint at odd hours or spontaneously deciding to sleep in his car. This deeply non-conformist lifestyle, obviously bohemian, somewhat corresponds to the concept behind naming his studio “Play.spot”. For him, time spent working in his studio can always be likened to having fun, just as children would while playing.

But the most poignant aspect of his story is his steadfast dedication to his studio practice, which he began in 1999, more than a decade after receiving his bachelor’s degree from Ahmadu Bello University. His spirit, he offers by way of explanation, holds the reins of his physical abilities; hence, he feels driven from somewhere in the depths of his being on a daily basis. “I’m a messenger,” he declares, “someone who has been sent on an errand, who is transmitting messages to surfaces.”

Talking about surfaces, he recalls having painted on all imaginable surfaces possible, including ceiling boards. As his mediums, he has, besides oils, also made use of graphite, pastels, crayons, and done engravings and collages (using newspaper clippings). Ultimately, he adds, the artist will always be drawn to the things that he likes. Vibrations, the form in which the driving energy is expressed, remain his prompters before he settles down to paint. “I first paint for me, and when I’m done painting for me, I start thinking about what next.”

As for the local art scene, in which he has been one of the big players, it has, by the artist’s own assessment, experienced a “360-degree change for good.” Now, he adds, things are better organised than they were before 1995. “More galleries are investing directly in artists.”

In this kind of scenario, the younger generation of artists is ever more ambitious about the pricing of their works, sometimes even pricing them above those of the industry’s acknowledged masters. But, aside, even as he acknowledges the fact that the artist’s growth needs to be gradual—embracing his growth in skills, emotions, and intuitions as well as his accumulated experiences—he shrugs off the trend in one sentence: “There are no stiff rules” and adds, “Financial success is not a judge of art! It’s not the job of the collector or the gallery to determine the price of art.”

This scenario also fuels his optimism about the local art scene, which he believes will flourish spectacularly over the next decade.