Baba Wague Diakite: "respect yourself as well as your tradition." (portfolio).

Baba Wague Diakite is an artist who defies categorization--a fact that reveals as much about the limits of artistic categories as it does about Diakite's multiple talents. Both Malian and American, the artist has been a resident of Portland, Oregon, for more than fifteen years. He expresses himself in many media, from ceramics and textiles to storytelling and architectural sculpture. He creates both "high art," made for display in museums and galleries, and "craft," household objects that are made to be used. His work playfully draws together elements associated with "traditional" Malian and "contemporary" American cultures.

The quotation marks that surround several of the terms used above draw attention to their provisional nature and to Diakite as an artist whose career demonstrates their essential artificiality. His work grows out of the diversity of his experiences, which place him as much between categories as within them. Though he draws on a cultural heritage of which he is proud, Wague does not seek to express an essential Malian-ness or African-ness but instead his own humanity. In his words: "My work is not tied up with traditional concerns or techniques.... As much as I am proud to introduce a little of my culture through my art, I do not consider my work to be particularly African." In this, Diakite shares the concerns of many contemporary artists from Africa, who seek to transcend the labels by which the art market organizes its categories, too often blocking entry to those whose work is not neatly classifiable.

Diakite was born and raised in Kassoro, a small village in the Fouladougou region that lies west of Bamako, the country's capital. He credits his grandmother's stories, which mesmerized children at family gatherings, with instilling in him the creative spirit he brings to every aspect of his work. He moved to Bamako in the late 1970s, joining his parents. Diakite has had no professional training, but from an early age he showed a talent for artistic expression, beginning with the creation and performance of puppet shows. I first met the artist through his paintings made using bogolan pigments, which are associated with a uniquely Malian textile known in the United States as "mudcloth." He learned the technique, customarily the exclusive domain of women, from his mother during a visit home to Mali in 1987.

Since his move to the United States in 1984, Diakite has focused much of his artistic effort on ceramics, also considered to be "women's work" in Mall. He creates vessels, tiles, plates, and figurative sculpture using a variety of techniques; some pieces are wheel thrown, others slip-cast, carved, or handbuilt. He fires his work in an electric kiln and uses brilliantly colored synthetic glazes--both distinctly non-"traditional" techniques. For Diakite, distance from "tradition" permits greater freedom to experiment: "Traditional artists work in one straight line of thought: to do things the way they have been done in the past. Putting too much creativity into it can cause a problem. Being in the United States, I realize that it is great to respect the past, but also having freedom in art is one of the best things you can have." He recognizes that the women who make ceramics in a "traditional" manner also work creatively, some producing "fabulously sculptural functional ware." Yet he clearly separates his innovative approach from that of artists whose work is more recognizably "traditional."

Africanist art historians have devoted much effort, especially in the past decade, to combating stereotypical views of traditional arts as static, unyielding in the face of individual creativity. Two recent issues of this magazine, in fact, featured studies of individual artists, demonstrating the extraordinary creativity that informs their production in "traditional" contexts ("Authorship in African Art," special issues Winter and Spring 1999). Diakite shares the views of many artists I worked with in Mali: for them, indigenous arts represent a point of departure for innovations that integrate distinctly contemporary influences, and the notion that they should work in a distinctly African (i.e., traditional) style is a source of frustration. Diakite has found that living in the United States frees him from the expectations that too often color the reception of his work among collectors.

Along with ceramic sculpture, Diakite has created large-scale installations for the Oregon Zoo, Oregon State University, and (in collaboration with his wife, sculptor Ronna Neuenschwander) the North Precinct Community Policing Center in Portland. His largest commission, not yet completed, is to be installed at Disney World in Orlando; it consists of a mural eighty-four feet long and five bronze medallions twelve to fifteen feet in diameter, which will be set into a floor. The artist has published two award-winning children's books based on African folktales and illustrated with his ceramic tiles. His current projects include the establishment of a cultural center outside Bamako, where he hopes to offer American visitors an opportunity to become immersed in Malian culture, facilitating the same understanding across cultures that he himself has experienced after immersion in American culture. By moving beyond the divisions that often segregate both people and art forms, Diakite eloquently demonstrates the interconnectedness that animates the universe.

All quotations from conversations and interviews, October 2000.

Left:

Ce Djan (The Tall One), 2000. Handbuilt vessel with lid, underglazes, crackle glaze; 102cm (40"). The University of Iowa Museum of Art. Iowa City.

Diakite describes this piece as a little granary or storage pot, based on the large pots that stand at the corner of family compounds in Malian villages and, less frequently, in urban neighborhoods. The shape of these storage vessels evokes, for Diakite as for others raised in rural households, the power and mystery of unseen riches, for the food and other goods held in these containers are the focus of much longing among small children. Diakite equates himself with such a vessel, for his own young children view him as the powerful repository of goods and knowledge. This piece is richly adorned with linear patterns and fanciful creatures, including a ci wara figure, the distinctive wooden antelope headdress worn at agricultural celebrations among the Bamana.

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Right:

Kote (Spinner), 2000. Handbuilt earthenware, underglazes, glaze; 68cm (27"). Courtesy of Pulliam-Deffenbaugh Gallery, Portland, Oregon. This brilliantly glazed piece is multilayered in its signification. The Bamana word kote refers to a child's top made of a snail shell. Kote is also a dance characterized by spinning steps. For Diakite, the act of spinning has particular significance, for he views it as a metaphor for human interaction: "Spinning means a person is open; you can see every dimension around a person who is spinning. Just turn around and you will realize that the things around you stay in place, so the person standing still can see you from all sides." Spinning, he notes, is clearly the natural state of things, for the earth itself is always turning. The adornment of this piece reflects Diakite's interest in animal characters, which play key roles in the stories and lessons he heard as a child at his grandmother's house.

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Top:

Koro Kara, 2000. Handbuilt earthenware, underglazes, glaze; length 51cm (20"). Courtesy of Pulliam-Deffenbaugh Gallery.

As they are in much of Diakite's work, animals are key iconographical elements of this piece, their symbolic roles based as much in the artist's own imagination as in indigenous Malian thought. For him the snail represents courage and morality. The animal's hard shell conceals its interior, just as a morally correct person will conceal a secret despite pressures to reveal it. Diakite sees the frog that adorns the side of this long-legged snail as another symbol of courage, and of perseverance as well. He explains, "In the snow of Alaska, you can find frogs. In the deserts of Timbuktu, you can find frogs. People underestimate the power of frogs." This fantastic creature, then, offers a model for ideal behavior.

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Bottom:

MishiKun Masks, 2000. Handbuilt earthenware, underglaze, glazes, porcupine quills; right, 61cm (24"); left, 71cm (28"). Courtesy of Pulliam-Deffenbaugh Gallery.

These elaborately painted masks represent a pair of horned animals, each with a porcupine quill sprouting from its head. As with paired ci wara antelope headdresses, one is male (the larger of the two) and the other female. Diakite has used clay rather than wood to portray the masks and marionettes used by young people in Malian villages and small towns. There, groups of masks are danced to entertain audiences at public festivities, such as harvest celebrations. They refer to the importance of the relationship between humans and animals. Animals are sources of food and transportation, and at a metaphorical level, in stories and myths, they serve as models for human behavior.

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The Tales I Tell, 1996. Earthenware, acrylics; 102cm (40"). Courtesy of Pulliam-Deffenbaugh Gallery.

Because he travels between two homes, Mali and the United States, Diakite finds himself serving as an interpreter for his family and friends in both places, relating stories about life elsewhere. The fantastic head atop this cylindrical body stands for Diakite himself, his hand on the front of the body, gesturing as he describes faraway places. The interlocking people, animals, cars, and houses that encircle the piece illustrate the interlaced lives and stories that draw distant people closer together.

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Djeliba, 1999. Earthenware, underglazes, glaze. Diameter 51cm (20"). Courtesy of Pulliam-Deffenbaugh Gallery.

Along with elaborate vessels and sculpted creatures, Diakite creates platters, plates, bowls, and a variety of other forms that are sold as both functional objects and works of art. This platter celebrates djeliw (sing. djell), the Mande historian-singers who play powerful social roles as repositories of detailed historical knowledge and supporters of important families. At the center of the composition, a singing djeli plays his kora, the harp-like instrument closely associated with djeliw throughout the region. The densely painted border that surrounds the powerful musician-historian represents all of history, evoked by the djeli's epic songs.

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Clockwise from top left:

Fleuve Niger (Niger River), 1998. Earthenware, underglazes, glaze; diameter 51cm (20").

Koroduga, 2000. Earthenware, underglazes, glaze; diameter 51cm (20").

The Family, 1999. Earthenware, underglazes, glaze; diameter 51cm (20").

The King and the Butter Lady, 2000. Earthenware, underglazes, glaze; diameter 51cm (20").

All platters courtesy of Pulliam-Deffenbaugh Gallery.

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Opposite page, clockwise from top left:

Tile for The Hatseller and the Monkeys (Scholastic Publishing, New York, 1999), 1998. Earthenware, glazes; 30.5cm x 30.5cm (12" x 12"). Courtesy of Pulliam-Deffenbaugh Gallery.

Diakite illustrates children's stories that have deep roots in African cultures, bringing them to a contemporary audience far from those who listened to his grandmother tell stories around the fire when he was a child in Mall.

Camel teapot, 1990. Earthenware, glazes; height 25.4cm (10"). Courtesy of Pulliam-Deffenbaugh Gallery.

Lizard teapot, 1990. Earthenware, glazes; length 40.6cm (16"). Courtesy of Pulliam-Deffenbaugh Gallery.

Diakite's teapots, based on animals he associates with Mall's savanna landscapes, are fanciful and functional.

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This page:

Untitled (Granary), 1999. Earthenware, underglazes, glaze; 66cm (26"). Courtesy of Pulliam-Deffenbaugh Gallery.

The granary form recurs in Wague's work. It stands for traditional village life and, just as important, for prosperity and plenty, concepts reiterated by the swelling ears of corn that embellish the vessel. The piece is also adorned with a Dogon kanaga symbol, from the superstructure of a mask type that has become an icon of Malian culture.

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VICTORIA ROVINE is Curator of the Arts of Africa, Oceania, and the Americas at the University of Iowa Museum of Art. Her book on contemporary mudcloth, Bogolan: Shaping Culture Through Cloth in Contemporary Mali, is published by Smithsonian Institution Press (2001).