Kente Cloth: The Mundane as a Marker of the Marvelous by Victoria Azzi
Azzi 2 The overarching tendency in the acquisition, collection and study of African art is to equate authenticity to notions of age; furthermore, it is to sequester the cultures from which these artworks derive into some pre-colonial context. There is a vast amount of injustice in such a practice and it truly limits the amount of knowledge that can be ascertained. It forms boundaries – physical, temporal and cerebral – that are at once unnecessary and at the same time filled with prior self-held or culturally placed assumptions. These assumptions may be irrelevant to the parent culture under inspection. The recognition of these notions and their questioning allows for a greater conversation to exist; yet, at the same time, it creates issues as to how one is supposed to go about a contemporary and efficient conversation on the topic of African art. The conversation has been started. But if one is not to rely on Western assumptions about African art or one’s own assumptions (no matter how they may have developed), how does one know where to take this dialogue to produce substantial meaning? I’m not sure there is an answer to the aforementioned question. To be honest, I’m not sure there even should be. In this paper, I am not going to attempt to redefine the field of African art. Such a task is too impossibly large a scope for a single paper. Instead I am going to attempt to convey the immensity of African art in a single example –the kente cloth produced by the Ashanti [Fig. 1] – because in this one example there is such an enormity encapsulated in such supposed simplicity, a piece of patterned cloth. My goal is to leave one enamored, not because of the grandeur of this example, but rather because it is so mundane. Because if the mundane can be filled with such life, then the implications to the extraordinary are truly limitless and perhaps that is how African art should be defined. Kente cloth was originally produced by the Asante (also known as the Ashanti) although today, it has earned a more global presence. During the seventeenth century, historical
Azzi 3 circumstances relating to colonialism and the gold trade in the once proclaimed Gold Coast led to the emergence of distinctive kingdoms. From these various kingdoms and under the military prowess of Osei Tutuan, an Asante Confederacy was born.1 Today, the Asante comprise a large part of modern day Ghana and are given to the larger group of the Akan, as they mainly speak the language given to this namesake.2 It is important to note how the categorization of the Asante, in a way, already contradicts the previously articulated assumptions about African cultures. The Asante are a relatively young people. Not to say that they do not have an ancestry that extends past the formal declaration of the kingdom, but rather that a romantic notion of a pre-colonial Asante is historically inaccurate. In fact, it is hard to know anything definitively about the cultures that comprise the Asante, or even the larger category of the Akan, in the pre-Islamic or even pre-colonial period.3 It is, therefore, most beneficial to think of this culture in terms of fluidity and change, as one should really think of all cultures. Even though there is little that can be known about the Asante before these significant encounters, the result is just as valid and legitimate as anything that came before. In many ways the Asante kingdom is much like any other kingdom, particularly insofar as an elaborate system of regalia would ensure the respect granted to and authority of the King. And much like the adornments associated with any European monarchy, the materiality of these objects is often most lavish, and exceptionally so in the case of the Golden Stool; however, sometimes the richness of tangible objects is not in the material itself. The cloth created by the Asante, which adorns not only the King [Fig. 2] but also all manner of people, is an art unto itself; yet, set these cloth pieces in an art museum and they will not speak beyond mere aesthetics. 1
Douglas Fraser, “Symbols of Ashanti Kingship,” in African Art & Leadership, eds. Douglas Fraser and Herbert M. Cole (Madison: The University of Wisconsin Press, 1972), 137-53. 2 Herbert M. Cole, “Akan Worlds,” in A History of Art in Africa, eds. Monica Blackmun Visona, Robin Poynor, Herbert M. Cole, and Michael D. Harris (New York: Harry M. Abrams, Inc., 2001), 194-227 3 Cole, “Akan Worlds,” 194-95.
Azzi 4 Many of the groups that comprise the Akan, but particularly the Asante, have a proliferation of items comprising their material culture that combine verbal expressions with visual motifs.4 Communication becomes an art in its own right. This intersection between the verbal and the visual provides a tool for communication about the owner or wearer, as well as, instruction for all those who are attuned to the meaning. Sometimes the associations are merely symbolic. For example, a lion is a symbol for bravery and power. In other instances, the verbal phrase and corresponding imagery is much more evocative, such as a spiral stylized version of a ram’s horn is reference to the phrase, “Slow to anger but unstoppable when aroused.”5 The discourse created by the layering of such objects is one that is vibrant and full of nuance and very much embedded in the culture. The materialization of these objects is as vast and as varied as the proverbs and symbols that can be represented. As before stated, sometimes this material quality is entirely lavish, but sometimes, as seen in kente cloth, the material is subtly inlayed with value. Within the threads of kente cloth, the proverbs are not as readily seen and are often articulated instead through the naming of the cloth or in the naming of a design.6 Weavers can choose to juxtapose the names of the designs and the cloth to create meaning; however, unlike in the cases of goldweights or adinkra cloths, these associations are not always at the forefront of how evaluations of value are made.7 Instead the value of kente cloth is literally woven into it. The process of creating even a single simply designed piece of kente is extremely laborintensive and requires a large amount of training and skill. This process has been documented in various texts and I will attempt to convey a large part of the nuances. Nevertheless, West African narrow strip weaving is a skill that must be observed to fully gain its magnitude, especially in the 4
Cole, “Akan Worlds,” 195-96. Cole, “Akan Worlds,” 195. 6 Shea Clark Smith, “Kente Cloth Motifs,” in African Arts, Vol. 9, No. 1 (Oct. 1975) (Los Angels: UCLA James S Coleman African Studies Center, 1975), 36-39. 7 Smith, 39. 5
Azzi 5 case of kente. First, West African narrow strip weaving refers to the weaving of strips of cloth that are less than 15 inches in width, with the intent of sewing at least two – but in most cases more – strips together to add to this width.8 This, as one has probably gathered, is the technique employed by the Asante to make kente cloth. Furthermore, kente is often singled out of this category as being the most intricate and tightly woven.9 Before the narrow strips comprising kente can even be conceived thread has to be made. In the past, this meant hand spinning and dying cotton or, for the more expensive pieces, repurposing the thread from silk imports. Today, most of the thread is synthetic and mechanically produced and dyed. But regardless of the thread type, the same techniques for producing the strips are utilized. It is important to note that such techniques are only taught and executed by men, often in a workshop type setting. Ashanti women may be involved in the creation of the thread beforehand or the final decoration after; however, women are not involved with the actual loom.10 The loom, itself, is not the most complicated piece of equipment and can be likened to European treadle looms. It is comprised of a cloth beam, beater/reed, heddles in pairs with heddle pulley and foot pedals attached, and the wrap, which provides tension on one end from its resistance on the ground. The design of the loom allows for not only easy storage but also for the simple switching between strips, if a weaver would decide to alternate between different pieces for any number of reasons. Furthermore, although similar looms are used across West Africa, there is some variation in the design and aesthetics of the parts of the loom, but these generally
8
Venice Lamb and Alastair Lamb, The Lamb Collection of West African Narrow Strip Weaving, ed. Patricia Fiske (Washington, D.C.: the Textile Museum, 1975). 9 Herbert M. Cole and Doran H. Ross, The Arts of Ghana (Los Angeles: Museum of Cultural History, University of California, 1977), 38-47. 10 Lamb, 19.
Azzi 6 have no effect on functionality.11 The process of creating a textile involves the passing of weft (horizontal) thread through the warp (vertical) threads that are spread apart across the loom. Foot pedals attached to the heddles are pushed to separate the warp shed. This allows the shuttle(s) holding the weft thread to be passed through. Then the pedals are pushed to move the heddles again therefore reversing the warp thread position. The shuttle(s) can then be moved through the thread. This process is completed a large number of times to produce an inch of woven length [Fig. 3]. Although the loom is not a particularly complex tool, the manner in which it is utilized in the creation of kente can make the process quite complicated. For example, in a complex cloth the weaver must have a clear conception of not only the individual pattern to be woven but also its relationship to the other patterns, even before any threads can be attached to the loom. Consider the afore-stated in conjunction with the fact that there are over 300 patterns that have been documented,12 and the enormity is merely scratched. As briefly stated before, all the patterns have different names and associations that can go beyond aesthetics if the weaver or wearer would so choose. Furthermore, the strips that are created by the Ashanti are normally only 4 inches in width,13 meaning a large quality of almost nearly identical strips (probably two different types of strips that will then be alternated) are required to give the piece overall uniformity and symmetry [Fig. 4]. For an 8 x 10-foot piece of kente, twenty to twenty-four 10foot long strips would have to be combined.14 The manner in which these smaller patterns are executed depends on the pattern itself. Warp striping is the simplest method available. One or two colors are introduced to the warp 11
Lamb, 20-23. Cole, The Arts of Ghana, 41. 13 Smith, 36. 14 Smith, 36. 12
Azzi 7 creating a strip pattern. Even here the term simplistic seems inaccurate. Around 300 threads pass through two heddles and a comb to create the wrap.15 Weft striping is a bit more complex. Strips can be created through the horizontal or weft direction by varying the color used. Different weight threads may also be introduced during this method to add variation. The most complex of the methods utilized by the Ashanti is the supplementary weft patterning technique. Best used for the creation of the elaborate patterns favored by the Asante, designs are inlaid by utilizing supplementary wefts in the same shed with the ground weft and no extra heddles are required. But only adding to the complexity, extra heddles are often utilized. This utilization allows for the supplementary weft to float on the face of the strip in the formation of the pattern.16 The patterns are often executed numerous times in the same strip and as aforementioned then may be attached to strips with the same pattern again. This means that clean and accurate execution is paramount. As it now can clearly be understood, this connection to the time and skill involved in the creation of kente cloth is a large part of the derivation of its value. In some cases, the inclusion of silk does in fact add a material-based value. In large part, however, the materiality becomes secondary to notions of complexity and execution. What at first may seem mundane, simply clothing, becomes a piece of skilled and nuanced craft that has an intended aesthetic value elevating it to art [Fig. 5]. Yet, the museum context certainly limits this understanding. Hung as tapestries, it is easy for most viewers to see and appreciate the aesthetics. The brilliant coloration only enhances this effect. But if the cloths are nested in their parent culture, they are worn, adding a movement and vitality that is otherwise lost. Furthermore, the museum is unable to capture the amount of skill required to create even a single strip, let alone an entire piece of kente, something that would be understood in Asante society. In fact, until relatively 15 16
Smith, 36. Lamb, 9.
Azzi 8 recently, kente cloth was worn largely as an indication of one’s standing in society because it was so labor intensive and therefore costly.17 But perhaps the largest injustice that contemporary museum culture places on kente cloth is in its isolation in, and confinement to, the past. I began this discussion by saying cultures should always be seen in fluid terms. Kente, as an item of culture and art, should not be limited to its mere traditional sense. It should not only be viewed as an art object or an ethnographic object; but even further, kente should not be sequestered to a specific period in time. Kente is still a significant part of a living culture. Kente and its variations are still worn by the people of the Asante. Life and death occur in these textiles. Battles of culture and identity are waged – within the Asante homeland and abroad.18 Kente in its artistic brilliance, historical depth, complex creation, cultural significance, or even in its mundane reality becomes much more than a series of woven threads.19 There is much more to kente than can be grasped. And if it is not yet clear that what may at first seem like a mundane item from a distant culture is in fact much more extraordinary, kente cloth was even declared the National Cloth of Ghana in 1959.20 Through this declaration kente has made the transition from a seemingly mundane cultural object to an emblem of a modernizing nation state. It has successfully transcended any temporal or strict culturally placed attachments and has transitioned with fluidity and the timelessness often associated with “high” art. Taking this into consideration, it is not in the least bit surprising that kente has become a motif or point of inspiration for many contemporary Ghanaian artists.21 I think there could be a 17
Peter Adler and Nicholas Barnard, “The Ashanti Cloth,” in African Majesty: The Textile Art of the Ashanti and Ewe (London: Thames and Hudson Ltd, 1992). 18 Debra J. Dickerson, “Kente Cloth Politics: The White Man’s Ice, Know-Nothingness, and Black Futility,” in The End of Blackness (New York: Anchor Books, 2004), 124-247. 19 John Picton, “Seeing and Wearing: Textiles in West Africa,” in The Poetics of Cloth: African Textiles/ Contemporary Art, ed. Lynn Grumpet (New York City: Grey Art Gallery, New York University, 2008). 20 Kofi Anyidoho, “Ghanaian Kente: Cloth and Song,” in The Poetics of Cloth: African Textiles/ Contemporary Art, ed. Lynn Grumpet (New York City: Grey Art Gallery, New York University, 2008). 21 Anyidoho, 39-40.
Azzi 9 strong argument made, if there was any remaining doubt about kente’s role as not just a culturally utilitarian and aesthetic object or national symbolic object but an art object, that kente fits into canonical inspiration for African artists and non-African artists and therefore holds significance that is evident in its aesthetic qualities. The new manifestations of kente at times may “cheapen” its value, but even in such cases, its appropriation signals an appreciation – even if misplaced.22 So much more could be said about any of the roles kente fulfills as listed above and the discussion was by no means exhaustive. Which brings the point home once again, kente is a piece of cloth. In the most basic sense it is nothing more than cross-woven thread. But the beauty that comes from it, although very aesthetically derived, makes the mundane quite marvelous [Fig. 6]. Kente is filled with so much vitality because it not only is the material reality of history, but also the material worn by many people as history happens. Its value cannot be understood through materialistic terms but through terms of time. Whether that time is in the creation of a single piece of kente, in the historical roots of the kente tradition, or in the amount of time a person spent living in the cloth. Kente exists in a state of duality. There is nothing so marvelous about kente that would negate its mundane utilitarian function; yet at the same time, there is something so powerful that if it were not recognized as something significantly more important a great amount of beauty and knowledge would be lost.
22
Pamela McClusky, “An Art of Persuasion Regalia From the Asante Kingdom,” in Art From Africa: Long Steps Never Broke A Back (Seattle: Seattle Art Museum, 2002), 79-113.
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Fig. 1 Ashanti, kente cloth. 20th century. Cotton and silk woven textile. The Minneapolis Institute of Arts, Minneapolis, Minnesota.
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Fig. 2 Herbert Cole, Asante Chief in regalia, with kente cloth. 1977. Photograph. University of California, Santa Barbara, California.
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Fig. 3 Herbert Cole, Ghana, Bonwire: Men Weaving Kente Cloth Strips. 1973. Photograph. University of California, Santa Barbara, California.
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Fig. 4 Herbert Cole, Ghana, Bonwire: Men Weaving Kente Strip-Cloth. 1975. Photograph. University of California, Santa Barbara, California.
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Fig. 5 Herbert Cole, Retinue with Ghanaian woman wearing royal kente cloth and gold regalia. 1986. Photograph. University of California, Santa Barbara, California.
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Fig. 6 Ghanaian, Kente Cloth: (Mmaaban, "unity is strength"). Woven textile. Seattle Art Museum, Seattle, Washington.
