Listening to the Echoes of the South Atlantic Listening to the Echoes of the South Atlantic | Page 30

between his visual art and performance art. Bundlehouse Borderlines number 3 (Isle
de Tribamartica) (2017), featured in Relational Undercurrents: Contemporary Art
of the Caribbean Archipelago, is actually a map of a fictitious island. This island is a
hybrid of Trinidad, Cuba, Martinique, Haiti, and Jamaica, referencing how people
have a tendency to think of the Caribbean in monolithic terms as one place with one
language, culture, and set of customs.
As described by Smith, Bundlehouse and the borders of the work address the fluidity
and movement, or lack thereof, between different Caribbean islands. The figures
seen throughout the work represent homes. Each of these figures is a bundlehouse,
understood as the act of bundling materials together to create a makeshift home. As
such, the work addresses how people are forced to pull the pieces back together in
order to rebuild their lives after being uprooted due to a traumatic event. Naturally,
this brings to mind the vulnerability of the Caribbean islands as a result of global
warming and hurricanes. Smith reflects on the fact that the Caribbean islands have
been colonized by the same European colonizers, and therefore share that in common.
By implementing the tools that colonizers used to record these spaces (cartography
for instance) he is also commenting on how the colonizers were drawing these spaces
and getting it all wrong. As such, the work evokes the complexity of trying to map
and document a space and to define what it is. As he points out, time always proves
us wrong. Incorporating elements from old maps combined with references to
Trinidadian and Haitian culture and folklore results in captivating works that both
challenge and reverse the narrative.
The rich symbolism of his visual language, such as a sequined snake seen in Bundlehouse:
Where do we begin? (2019), which evokes the spectacle of carnival processions, or
cowrie shells that were used as currency during the slave trade, constantly questions
and challenges Western-centric narratives of the past (and present). Smith reverses
colonialism through narratives that need to be told and retold until everyone
understands that the continued effects of colonialism cannot be dismissed, because
as Stuart Hall pointed out, “A past which is rendered inconsequential will take its
13
historical revenge on the present”.
In the three new sculptures featured in Listening to the Echoes of the South Atlantic
additional layers of meaning come into play. In the transition from painted image
to three-dimensional form, the sculptures occupy the space with their presence.
Comprised of a wide range of discarded and repurposed materials including
clothing, scraps of wood, feathers, and even small safety-rings, they come across as
both vulnerable and forceful in demeanor. They seem to whisper about spirituality
while also shouting at us about decoloniality, injustice, and strategies of survival. In a
riveting live performance at the opening Smith engaged directly with the sculptures,
bringing them to life in the sonic sphere.
Musical migrations are evident throughout the exhibition, but perhaps nowhere more
apparent than in Dawit L. Petros’ work The Sea in its Thirst is Trembling (2019). The
video coincides with a collaborative sound intervention that Petros conceived for his
participation in Ríos Intermitentes (Intermittent Rivers), a special exhibition project
initiated by Maria Magdalena Campos-Pons that took place in Matanzas, Cuba as an
official part of the 13 th Havana Biennial. Petros explains:
Matanzas, Cuba and Asmara, Eritrea, where my family is from, are two cities
whose geographical distance belies their numerous affinities. Both cities
are located in nations long isolated within dynamics of globalization. Their
rich and complex histories impact daily events in powerful ways. Also, the
identities of Asmara and Matanzas are rooted in their proximity to water.
Each are defined in relationship to rivers and seas. This project engages with
local vocabularies in Matanzas that also operate in Asmara. With this work I
was interested in linking these locations and histories through specific forms
14
of expression.
The historical factors that connect the musical histories of Ethiopia and Cuba might
not be entirely obvious to everyone. A brief synopsis is helpful to understand how
the work relates directly to musical migrations and sonic politics.
The hybrid jazz sounds produced in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia from 1973-1979
reflects a strong interaction of Ethiopian and Cuban music traditions. Music
and sound, therefore, is a site in which complex entanglements that brought
together Marxist struggles for independence in Eritrea (1961-1991), anti-
monarchist imperialist struggle in Ethiopia, and Cold War histories. The
contingencies of autobiography shaped by these geopolitics that unfolded in
the Horn of Africa, resulting in my family’s exile from Eritrea to Kenya and
15
later North America, is another important aspect of the work.