Ekow Nimako’s Lego Afrofuturism imagines the kingdoms and legends Europe tried to erase
Art | Gregory Beatty | Oct. 27, 2022
Ekow Nimako
Building Black Civilizations: Journey of 2,000 Ships
Dunlop Art Gallery
Until Jan. 10
While a sleek black ship with gossamer sails hangs in the window to entice people to enter the gallery, the journey in this exhibition actually starts at a tabletop installation at the back that’s framed by a wall-size black-and-white photo of a boat’s wake in a vast and empty ocean. The installation is made of the same material as the magical ship in the window which, because of the jaunty angle it’s hung at, seems more to be flying than sailing.
The artist is Ekow Nimako. Born in Montreal, he’s of Ghanian ancestry and currently lives in Toronto. Google him, and you’ll see he’s received international acclaim for his installations — all made entirely from black LEGO pieces.
Elaborately built LEGO constructions are nothing new. Usually they involve scale-model replicas of famous buildings and landmarks. Nimako’s installations have an iconic quality to them too, but they also have a conceptual integrity, stylish flare and convey a sense of mystery and wonder that elevates them well beyond “scale-model”.
Atlantic Ocean Odyssey
At an opening day talk, Nimako explained that the three installations in this show spin a tale of medieval adventure that’s grounded both in history and speculative fiction.
“This exhibit is a continuation of my series Building Black Civilizations which focuses on medieval Africa, particularly sub-Saharan west Africa,” he said.
“Growing up, when I heard ‘medieval’, I definitely didn’t associate it with African kingdoms of Black Muslim monarchs and entire civilizations that birthed so much trade and economic development around the world,” he said. “As I got older and did some research I found that words like ‘medieval’ and ‘Middle Ages’ shouldn’t be synonymous with Europe only. Things were happening all around the world.”
Nimako’s use of black LEGO only is an obvious visual nod to the African origins of the story. But the fact he and his assistants work at micro-scale with especially small LEGO pieces, coupled with the degree to which the monochromatic black palette makes it difficult to discern detail on the installations, serves as a subtle metaphor for the centuries of vibrant African history that were obscured and erased during the colonial era.
(That said, the way light dances on the sculptures’ innumerable angles and textures shows the limits of imposed homogeneity.)
During the Middle Ages, there were three kingdoms in west Africa, says Nimako.
“The first was the Kingdom of Ghana which didn’t actually exist where modern-day Ghana is,” he says. “It was closer to present-day Mali and Mauretania. After that kingdom fell, the Kingdom of Mali arose. Then there was the Kingdom of Songhai.”
Journey of 2000 Ships is inspired by the story of Mansa Abu Bakr II, who is said to have ruled Mali in the early 1300s.
“He abdicated his throne and took 2,000 ships with sailors, warriors, artists and families to see what lay beyond the west coast of Africa,” says Nimako. “Some of the ships, it’s speculated, crossed the Atlantic and reached Central and South America. But he was never heard from again. No one really knows what happened.”
“Bay of Banjul, the Abdication of Mansa Abu Bakr II”depicts the departure of the massive fleet.
“Banjul is the modern-day capital of Gambia,” Nimako says. “When I looked at a map, I saw there was this huge bay where the river Gambia flowed into the Atlantic. I thought if there was a ruler at this time, and this realm was part of their kingdom, perhaps it was this bay where the ships set out to sea.”
The scene features a multi-tiered city built into the cliffs of a giant bay with many dozens of ships “sailing” through a rock arch to the open sea — as represented by the black and white ocean photo on the back wall. Although if Nimako’s ships really were sailing through the arch they’d fall off the table’s edge — which recalls the medieval belief that Earth was flat, and if you sailed out too far you’d fall off it.
A close examination of the architecture reveals elements of African/Arabic design, but there’s a decidedly futuristic feel too. Particularly eye-catching are towers that resemble sleek rocket ships, with wing-like stabilizers at the base, multiple stages, and crew capsule-like minarets at the top.
“I’m a big fantasy and science fiction fan, so I remember seeing in movies, comics and other literature imagery where there’s this fantastical realm with all kinds of monuments that give symbolism and meaning to the city,” Nimako says. “I thought it would be important to open the show with the grand departure of these ships from Bay of Banjul.”
The second installation is titled “Isla Ewi”, which translates as Island of Thieves. It shifts the narrative to a second character: the Bandit Queen of Oualata.
Like Banjul, Oualata is a real city in the Sahara desert, says Nimako. “I didn’t do a lot of research into the city, I just liked the way it sounded when I was creating this idea of the Bandit Queen.”
In the backstory he’s crafted, Nimako speculates on links to the English legend of Robin Hood.
“Basic research told me the origin of Robin Hood as an English folk hero is pretty murky. That made it seem, to me, that the story was likely taken from elsewhere,” he says.
“I thought, ‘Okay, instead of an English guy in green tights and a hat, how about if it was a woman who grew up in the desert and was enslaved, but broke free of the caravan and was left for dead. Instead, she managed to conjure strength from the Moon Goddess and forge an indomitable will where she went back and freed the slaves and created a force of 100 free women to exact vengeance and justice on the enslavers.’”
From there, Nimako imagined the queen and her band setting sail on an ocean voyage of their own, eventually landing on a real-life island at the mouth of the Amazon River, where they set up the Island of Peace. Then who should show up? Mansa Abu Bakr II! And he and the queen become lovers.
“Isla Ewi” depicts the dramatic arrival of Mansa Abu Bakr II’s fleet as they sail through an arched gateway guarded by two giant female warriors armed with bows and arrows. Another exquisite detail is a series of rooftop labyrinths where the queen and her warriors train.
The third installation depicts the imagined end of Mansa Abu Bakr II’s journey, says Nimako. “The piece is called “Asamando”. That’s the name that’s given to the land of the dead or the land of the ancestors.”
The installation has two sections, each featuring a twisting tower and rampart-style structure with ships sailing from the nearest to the farthest section by crossing a bridge. Entrance and exit are both through the gaping fangs of a giant venomous snake.
“The reason I did that was to say that, at the end, all their souls ended up in the land of the dead,” says Nimako. “They became these spiritual entities, and since there’s this prevalence of serpent worship in the world, including Ghana, I decided to give the city a serpent. And when the ships cross the chasm on the bridge, it’s like ‘Now, you are dead-dead’.”
Which is fitting. Journey of 2000 Ships is a deadly show. ■
