Archive: Issue No. 77, January 2004

Packed with a critical mass of images and essays there can be no mistaking that this is an ambitious book. It spans the visual and performing arts, film and photography, music, literature, architecture, culture, politics and history of modern Africa. Published to accompany 'The Short Century', a touring exhibition involving five museums in Germany and the USA; this is not a typical catalogue by any stretch, and needs to be evaluated on its own terms as a potentially useful resource. (1)

Readers intrigued by the enigmatic title may have to do some work - the subtitle does more to suggest a loose frame than to spell out its meaning. A 'map' of contents reveals that The Short Century has been organised into a main body consisting of eight chapters, preceded by an untitled 'introductory' section and concluded by an appendix. The first section includes essays from Okwui Enwezor, Valentin Mudimbe, and Mahmood Mamdani. (2)

Bar one exception, the main chapters, or what Enwezor calls "subject areas", correspond with "distinct" areas of cultural production (e.g. Art, Film, Music, etc). For the most part these chapters mirror the exhibition categories, although some amendments are made, apparently not warranting comment. These include the substitution of "cloth/posters" in place of "graphics", and the conflation of theatre and literature. (3) Enwezor adds to the main body a generous chapter that he names Anthology, made up of pre-published seminal texts from the political and cultural spheres. (4) Appendix consists of a chronology of events; brief biographies; technical data concerning the artworks and photographs; and an index. Plates account for a little over half of the book.

Enwezor's opening essay, which takes on the full title of his project, begins with Kwame Nkrumah's declaration in 1958 that: "�this mid-twentieth century is Africa's". (5) According to Enwezor this was when President Nkrumah "announced� Africa's decade of independence."(my emphasis). The slide between 'century' and 'decade' captures some of the tensions in The Short Century's foci, as both the core concept and historical focus beg definition.

The use of dates in the title suggests that the project is framed by particular historical events that define a specific era; and in the opening to the Preface, Museum Villa Stuck Director Jo-Anne Danzker affirms that the project's emphasis is on the years in the title. (6) However in her conclusion Danzker suggests that the central concern is with the century as a whole. (7) Manthia Diawara seems to support the latter interpretation when he reminds us that: "�the twentieth century can be characterized as a short one".

Film Co-Curator Mark Nash appears to continue this theme when he refers to "this delayed 'short' twentieth century that much of Africa inhabits", but goes on to define "Africa's short century" as being inextricably linked with "modernism" and "decolonization", thereby emphasising the latter part of the last century.

Enwezor rewinds his frame to the colonial partition of Africa when he answers his own question "Where to begin?" with the conference of imperial powers in "Berlin, 1885" (p.10). Chronology takes this seminal event as its starting point, but dates it to 1884; the first of thirty-two years that receive entries before 1945. The plates in Art commence with Ernest Mancoba in 1936. Documentary photographs start with several images from 1944 of African recruits in the Second World War. The earliest document in Anthology comes from Abdel Nasser in 1956. (8)

At the other end, 1994 is a clear reference to South Africa's first democratic elections; although no less than twelve of the featured artists contribute works produced after 1994, right up until 2000, which is also the final date in the chronology. Given a flexible frame that stretches 1945-1994 to 1884-2000, it is evident that the historical focus is a blurred one.

Despite this lack of clarity, overall The Short Century privileges the 1950s and 1960s, when most African countries gained independence. Appreciation of this era is expressed by Enwezor who asserts that: "Looking back today at the period between 1945 and 1965, it is clear that there was already in formation an emergent category of discourse that would furnish us with the tools with which to analyse African modernity" (p.14).

In his essay Enwezor writes that: "The exhibition and book are an attempt to construct a contemporary 'critical biography' of Africa." (my emphasis), suggesting that the curator and editor have the same goals (p.10). Yet it is noticeable that he makes several statements to clarify the purpose of the exhibition, thereby indirectly affirming the secondary status of the book. (9)

Only in one instance does Enwezor articulate a vision of the book's role, independent of the exhibition. He writes that: "This book, then, offers a means of accounting for the urgent issues that were placed before the post-war publics of Europe on the one hand and Africa on the other, as part of a strong critical discourse on colonialism, independence, liberation, autonomy, self-determination, and freedom" (p.16).

Unfortunately, identifying "the urgent issues" is clouded by a clutter of statements scattered across The Short Century, statements that purportedly identify the objectives at the root of the project. A preoccupation with "modernism" and "modernity" is apparent, although neither term features in Enwezor's statement above. (10) Okeke writes about "modern" African art; and Danzker even uses "counter-modernism" although this term does not reoccur elsewhere. (11)

Despite the fact that these terms are loosely related, they can be used to denote quite different emphases; and the absence of working definitions of such fundamental concepts weakens the book. Similarly, what "strong critical discourse on colonialism" that emphasises post-independence can ignore critically interrogating the interfaces between 'decolonisation', 'neo-colonialism' and 'post-colonialism'?

Shifting the emphasis to African identity, a critical issue, not least for those in the diaspora, Enwezor writes that: "�the more salient question arising from this exhibition is: 'What is African and what is Africa to us?' (p.15). In 'Beyond Settler and Native as Political Identities: Overcoming the Political Legacy of Colonialism', Mamdani issues a bold challenge to shift dominant paradigms of political identity. He writes that "�in privileging the indigenous over the non-indigenous we turned the colonial world upside down but we did not change it. � the native sat on top of the political world designed by the settler. Indigeneity remained the test for rights". (12)

John Conteh-Morgan also dares to challenge fundamental assumptions of African nationalism, as articulated through theatre. He writes that "Anticolonial nationalism� finds itself in the paradoxical situation of seeking recognition from the imperial Other, or defining itself on that Other's own terms". (13) Mamdani and Morgan provide examples of The Short Century at its best: eloquent interrogations of 'post-colonial' assumptions.

With such strong material, and with so many stated aims, it is unfortunate that Enwezor did not organise his material to explore interdisciplinary themes. Creating chapters that (mostly) mimic the exhibition's "subject areas" is a less challenging option. Enwezor writes that: "The subjects presented here are distinguished not as categories or paradigms, but as general discursive frames, allowing us to trace developments within each area� In no way should a clear line be drawn between each subject; instead, each section operates in mutual determination and entanglement, constantly maintaining a 'soft' boundary that could allow critical interpretations." (p.14 - my emphasis).

However, a consequence of using (apparently neutral) art forms or areas of cultural production as "general discursive frames" is to privilege these "subjects" as tools of analysis. This is at the expense of exploring any themes or issues that may possess more resonance for an examination of the interface between art and politics, for example (but not limited to) those prioritised in the title.

Having drawn attention to artistic forms as "discursive frames", Enwezor inevitably leads the reader to reflect on how he has used his "subject areas". One observation is that he simultaneously applies both inclusive and exclusive definitions of 'art'. On one hand Enwezor's eclectic brew is radical and inclusive as it encompasses much more than is usually included in an art project. However, a closer look calls into question the inclusivity of his vision. He uses Art to include paintings, sculpture, installations (including video), and (some) photographs, but apparently does not know what to do with graphics, despite the fact that they apparently constituted a "distinct subject area" in the exhibition.

Prints that are signed and on paper go to Art, whilst textile art, posters, book, record and magazine covers feature in most of the other chapters, presumably attesting to the "soft boundaries" alluded to by Enwezor. However, by looking at which graphics are (and are not) in Art, as well as by identifying the exclusion of other visual media such as murals and cartoons, one may conclude that Enwezor sees art as essentially a gallery oriented practice. (14) His definition then, is perhaps more conservative than it may initially appear.

For Art, the first and by far the longest chapter in The Short Century, Enwezor showcases fifty-three artists from nineteen African countries over one hundred and seven sumptuous pages of colour plates. Over half the artists come from Anglophone countries with twenty-five coming from South Africa and Nigeria alone (16 and nine respectively). Other former members of the British Empire include Zimbabwe and Uganda, each represented by one artist. North Africa, The Horn and Francophone Africa are modestly represented. There are only two Lusophone entries including the standard choice of Malangatana Ngwenya for Mozambique. There is an equally predictable inclusion of John Muafangejo as the sole Namibian.

Most artists receive two pages, with Uche Okeke, Yonika Shonibare, Gavin Jantjes, William Kentridge, and Ibrahim El-Salaahi each receiving a double share. Artists in the diaspora are well represented and Enwezor includes both autodidacts (self taught sign-painters and 'na�ve' artists) as well as a strong dose of cosmopolitan installation artists. Only seven women feature (Georgina Beier, Jane Alexander, Sue Williamson, Zarina Bhimji, Gazbia Sirry, Ghada Amer, and Kamala Ishaq); and sculpture gets a raw deal (apart from mediocre sculpture from Vincent Kofi, there are two well exposed examples from Jane Alexander and Amir Noir).

Most surprisingly the lands of Nkrumah and Leopold Senghor, by far the most dominant ideologues in Enwezor's Short Century, are only represented by one artist each, hinting at a chasm between theory and practice (Kofi (Ghana) and Iba Ndiaye (Senegal)).

The plates in Art are preceded by a brief pan-African overview by Associate Curator Chika Okeke. Okeke makes reference to many of the featured artists, setting them into a broader context that includes surveying the state of art education in Africa. In this sense Okeke provides a significant part of the 'catalogue agenda' for The Short Century, although little relevant information is provided about individual works. This suggests that the curator as editor is inclined to let individual works speak for themselves, after having established a 'broad framework'. But what, for example, can the reader make of Kendell Geer's Blind Man's Bluff, spread over two pages, if they are not familiar with this particular work?

Okeke's survey is complemented by two national case studies. The first is a vivid re-telling of the post-independence period in Nigeria by Ulli Beier that takes in a wide range of art forms. The second is Marilyn Martin's essay on South African art that is misleadingly titled 'Independence and Liberation Movements in Africa, 1945-1994'. The clumsily named chapter that follows, Cloth/Posters, is built around John Picton's informative essay on commemorative textiles in West Africa; padded with graphics, mostly Mozambican and South African agit-prop posters, with no commentary provided.

Like graphics, photography also occupies an ambivalent place in Enwezor's lexicon. Seven photographers have works reproduced in the main chapter (Art), with four of these being the subject of an essay by Associate Curator Lauri Firstenberg. (15) This essay appears logically in Photography, whereas a second essay on South African photographers, by Associate Curator Rory Bester, appears in Architecture, the following chapter. (16) The images in Photography have little do with the essays on the subject, consisting mostly of press images that construct a visual narrative of decolonisation over five themed sub-sections.

As noted earlier, these start with Africa Goes to War in 1944. This is followed by two pan-African surveys that focus on the ceremonies and personalities associated with the transfer of power from the colonial authorities to the newly independent nations. The next sub-section is mostly about the Algerian Revolution and subsequent independence; and this is followed by pan African Experiments with Democracy, with an emphasis on electoral processes. The plates in Photography conclude with a South African case study. Long Walk to Freedom keeps with the mid-century emphasis of The Short Century, with most images pre-dating the Rivonia Trial. The photo-essay unexpectedly makes very lightly of 1994, with a solitary, dull photo of an electoral billboard featuring Nelson Mandela taken from a passing car. (17) In sum Enwezor's visual narrative of decolonisation incorporates seventeen countries with Ghana, and in particular Nkrumah, featuring prominently.

The ambivalent position of graphics, photography, and to some extent film in Enwezor's application of 'art' is affirmed with Biographies. Generally everyone featured in Art (including photographers and graphic artists) gets an entry. Three photographers whose work featured in Photography also receive biographies (18), as does David Goldblatt who has four images in Architecture. However others who feature prominently in Photography do not get included. (19)

Filmmakers generally don't get entries, bar four, including Isaac Julien who produces most of his work for an art (gallery going) public. (20) Sandra Kriel, who produced some of the most important visual artwork in South Africa in the 1990s, is excluded, presumably because her work features in Cloth/Posters. It can also be observed that while the entries in Biographies emphasise the importance of the visual arts for the core identity of this project, they simultaneously highlight the peripheral place of other art forms in this project. Generally there are no biographies for musicians, performers, architects and writers, unless they are billed as "contributors". (21)

Despite the secondary status of non-gallery centred art forms in The Short Century, it is worth noting that some of the books strengths can be found in its 'marginal chapters'. Many of these chapters also have the advantage that the images generally complement the essays more directly than they do in Art or Photography. Film is well represented with pan-African surveys from Diawara and Nash, and these two essays help assert a presence for Lusophone Africa. Two architectural surveys by Gwendolyn Wright and Nnamdi Elleh, although Francophone in emphasis, raise issues pertinent to the continent as a whole.

Morgan's 'Theatre and the Performance of the Nation' uses two plays as a microcosm to reflect on bigger issues pertaining to nationalism and representation. Maishe Maponya provides a Black Consciousness perspective on South African resistance theatre. (22) Chinweizu makes an argument for the use of Negritude as an inclusive category for Afro-centred consciousness and discourse. (23)

Wolfgang Bender's 'Independence, Highlife, Liberation Wars: Lagos 1950s and 1960s' starts out promisingly, a welcome companion to Beier's account of the arts in post-independence Nigeria. Unfortunately it loses its focus, inexplicably mutating mid-way into an arbitrary and apparently hurried survey of sub-Saharan African musical forms, as if the brief was changed at a late stage. (24) Bender's essay is complemented by a lively visual archive of photographs of musicians, audiences and record covers, evoking some of the strengths of the curator as editor. (25)

Acting as a reminder that there are important distinctions between book and exhibition, the second largest chapter is not one of the exhibition's subject areas. Sited as the final chapter, the ninety-five page Anthology brings political and cultural theory into the same framework. Here you will find writings by political leaders (26) alongside cultural theorists (27), as well as resolutions from political and cultural gatherings.

Almost two thirds of the thirty-four contributions are from the 1950s; a third from the 1960s; four from the 1940s; and one each from the 1970s, 1980s, and 1990s. It is disconcerting that no woman appears to have penned any polemic worth including, and neither is this worthy of comment. (28) In the subsequent Appendix a useful Chronology of landmark cultural and political events supports the preceding archive of source documents and documentary photographs by helping to fill in Enwezor's decolonisation narrative. (29) Despite the overall vagueness about the main aims of The Short Century one central proposition emerges fairly forcefully. Its emergence is due largely to the juxtaposition of artistic, cultural and political history and theory. This 'thesis' is that African art produced in the latter half of the 20th Century should be explored within the context of its relationship to decolonisation; as part and parcel of a greater quest for liberation and independence in the political, cultural, and artistic realms. A fine proposition, but in order to see how far it is developed, the book's value should be assessed against its contribution towards developing a valid 'discursive frame' for the interpretation (and appreciation) of contemporary (or 'modern') African art/s.

Regrettably the promise outlined above is compromised by a facile delivery. This shortfall is partially due to the unimaginative way that Enwezor organises his material into "subject areas". (30) While there may be some merit in separating different art forms for display (i.e. exhibition), grouping material for a book under headings such as 'art' and 'music' does very little to encourage fresh perspectives. The result is that rather than providing a framework for the development of a "critical biography" of Africa, The Short Century's achievement as a book is a more modest, albeit still worthwhile one. Its primary value is as an archive, a rich resource to be used for one's own critical journeys.

One reason for The Short Century being a better archive than 'an argument' is due to Enwezor's style as an editor. He compiles, more than he edits. Compiling need not be a problem, particularly if the information is coherently organised so as to advance particular arguments or lines of inquiry. But organisation is not a strong feature here: numerous inconsistencies between headings (or titles) and content, and between stated intentions and actual delivery, suggest a cavalier attitude towards editing. At worst The Short Century begins to resemble a glorified scrapbook, stuffed with personal favourites (31), saved only from being dismissed as a 'coffee-table' book by the sheer scale of text, and quality of individual contributions.

The tensions that are implicit in reconciling a mass of pre-published texts with a series of commissioned essays surface in the book's design. A critical part of the book that is located in its margins, Anthology occupies a twilight zone between the "subject areas" (chapters) and Appendix. Consisting entirely of archival texts reprinted at length, despite that several are freely available on the internet or are still in print (p.460); this chapter suggests a reluctance to edit in a more proactive sense.

As a result Enwezor has had to reduce the font size for the very discourses that he wishes to foreground, de-emphasising them by making it look like they are part of an appendix. Its ambivalent status as a chapter is indirectly affirmed, when on one hand Nkrumah, Senghor, Sartre, Mandela, et al all receive "contributors biographies" alongside Enwezor, Beier, Diawara, et al, at the back of the book. However the former are excluded from the 'main list' of contributors on the title page, unlike the 'real' ones. (32) This can either be interpreted as an error, or as another expression of a lack of common purpose on the part of Enwezor and his editorial team.

In terms of content one of the book's weaknesses is that, apart from the featured artworks which include a healthy helping of more recent examples, the overwhelming emphasis on the 1950s and 1960s, especially on ceremonies and icons, creates a nostalgic, romanticised picture of an independent Africa. Consequently the book sends mixed messages about "liberation and independence". Although Enwezor refers to decolonisation as an "unfinished project"(p.15) and reflects on Ngugi Wa Thiongo's contribution to this debate (33), the overall representation of decolonisation in The Short Century is a narrow one.

It is treated as a historical period that ended with the changing of flags. Enwezor describes decolonisation as an "event", "period" or "historical moment"(p.15). Similarly Mark Nash writes that: "Africa's�encounter with �decolonization� has already passed." (p.339) and Diawara, by seeing it as a "chapter" seems to reinforce this view. Similarly Chinweizu defines "Africa's decolonization era" as "1945-94", although he also makes the point that: "Decolonization� has not ended in the promised land of African regeneration and renaissance, but rather in the famished sea of Debt Trap Imperialism" (p.325).

While Chinweizu reference to the 'new world order' takes us into the present, and Maponya and Martin alert us to some current challenges faced by Africa, on the whole Enwezor deals very superficially with the latter part of the last century, and makes little effort to answer his own question: "what indeed is the reality of independence and liberation?" (my emphasis). (34) The reader is likely to find more romantic imagination or nostalgia than hard-nosed 'reality', despite Enwezor's assurance that: "�suffice it to say that The Short Century: Independence�1945-1994 represents an Africa of the imagination, as much as it addresses Africa in the context of her lived experiences and realities"(p.15).

Certainly providing this dimension ('reality') would assist in order to develop a relevant framework for interpreting the kind of arts that have (or have not) come from Africa in the latter half of the twentieth century. This is surely as important, perhaps even more so, for the development of a relevant 'discursive frame', than revisiting manifestos and documentation from the mid-twentieth century.

Another weakness is that in privileging South Africa in The Short Century, Enwezor fails to do justice in providing an account of the cultural boycott. Perhaps more than any other example at his disposal, the boycott presented Enwezor with a successful synthesis of art and politics that harnessed unprecedented solidarity internationally from the broad artistic community (35). Internally it was perhaps the most powerful expression of the rallying slogan for cultural workers in the 1980s: "culture as a weapon of struggle" (36), and its impact on the arts in South Africa was a profound one.

Even Martin, who opposed the boycott, recognises that "it forced artists, academics, and art administrators and dealers to reassess their roles and functions." although she is clearly speaking from a minority perspective when she goes on to say that." Creative people sat up and took note of what 'others' around them were doing�" (my emphasis). (37)

In contrast Maponya's perspective reflects some of the divisions within the broad liberation movement, as he presents the cultural boycott as weapon of the Black Consciousness Movement. In reclaiming some of the credit for the boycott for organisations such as the Pan-Africanist Congress, he completely overlooks the role of the African National Congress, who undeniably played the leading role in implementing (and lifting) the boycott. Martin attempts to project an 'independent' voice, and her essay is critical of both apartheid and post-apartheid government, although she saves her most outspoken statements for the current dispensation. (38)

Recounting a history of opposition from artists and academics to the previous government she commences with the 'State of the Art Conference' at the University of Cape Town in 1979 that called on artists not to accept state commissions. She writes that: "What is pertinent here is the way in which art and popular culture were harnessed in the struggle" (p.37). Reading her account the reader may well conclude that a significant number, perhaps most, of South Africa's artists, academics and administrators were actively engaged in resistance.

The truth is that many, including Martin, particularly in her capacity as President of the (state funded) South African Association of Arts (SAAA), actively opposed or undermined the boycott. It is, for example, noticeable that she omits reference to 'cultural exchange' with Pinochet's Chile or to the boycott of the Republic Day Festival in 1981, controversial episodes in which the SAAA was centrally involved. Had she, like Maponya, positioned herself within the narrative and provided an account from that perspective she may have made a more valuable contribution to documenting an important era in South African cultural politics.

Instead Martin re-hashes the kind of facile criticism that (mostly white) opponents of the boycott frequently advocated. She tells us that because of the boycott "� artists were denied exposure to other cultures and other creative people, as well as opportunities to work outside the country. Many went into exile, developing careers abroad" (p.37). Okeke provides a neat contrast, looking from the perspective of the oppressed. He notes that, because of the conditions that black people were subjected to: "Some of South Africa's pioneering black artists� were forced to emigrate�" (p.37). Martin's own data corroborates Okeke's analysis: it is instructive that of the more than forty artists that she singles out for merit, only six left South Africa, and only one of these left after the boycott was introduced. (39) The rest left in the years between the late 1930s and the 1970s (i.e. before the boycott). (40)

Martin's 'outsider' perspective on the liberation movement becomes more apparent when, writing of the period from 1989 she claims that: "As these measures became more restrictive and authoritarian, the independent critical voice of culture was endangered, and words such as 'cultural desk', 'cultural commissars', and 'cultural Stalinism' entered the vocabulary". (my emphasis) (p..38). Entered her vocabulary, possibly - the Cultural Desk was a formal, and active structure of the United Democratic Front since 1986, and the latter terms would, generally, be used by people who were 'on the wrong side' of the Desk. (41) Equating the Cultural Desk, for all its weaknesses, with authoritarianism is a bad joke, when you consider that in 1989 the country was in a State of Emergency with no hint of the political changes that were to come.

The absence of perspectives from ANC aligned cultural workers deprives The Short Century of a fuller account of how culture was used as a weapon of struggle in the South African context. To her credit Martin does recognise the importance of events such as the banned 'Towards A Peoples Culture Festival', which did play a significant role in 'harnessing' cultural resistance within the country, and unlike the earlier conference was 'non-racial' in character. (42)

However, she overlooks events in which the ANC played a more central role in organising, such as those held in Gaberone in 1982 and in Amsterdam in 1987. (43)(44) Bringing such events into the frame would tell a very different story of artists as cultural workers, and it is perhaps not surprising that Martin overlooks these events, given her political position at the time.

One ANC intervention that Martin does acknowledge is Albie Sach's provocative paper, 'Preparing for Freedom'. Originally prepared for in-house seminar for the ANC, this challenge to cultural workers to go beyond slogans was seized upon by the liberal establishment as vindication of their perspective that politics should stay out of art. Noting that Sachs 'banned' the expression 'culture as a weapon of struggle', and that his paper entered the public domain "early in 1990", a few months before the Cultural Desk was dissolved; it is perhaps fortunate that the country did not have to suffer under the jackboots of the 'cultural Stalinists' for very long�

During the course of this review I have criticised Enwezor's editorial style, arguing that the central concept lacks definition and focus. I have argued that compiling material loosely is inadequate when more clarity of purpose and structure is needed to advance an important argument, and that his use of unimaginative "subject areas" does nothing to develop relevant "discursive frames". I have questioned some of his choices, and noted some key exclusions.

I have also taken issue with his representation of contemporary Africa, arguing that by emphasising the debates and images of decolonisation from the "mid-twentieth century", he conjures a romanticised image of 'independent', 'liberated' Africa. As a result he fails to provide an accurate picture of the present, nor a relevant framework with which to interpret much of it.

The Short Century promises much, but perhaps it starts more conversations than it can manage. Once the fan-fare has died down we are left to sift through a wide range of material, much of it excellent in itself, but ultimately disconnected from a coherent whole. Enwezor may be a visionary who can see 'the big picture' (45), but unless he pays more attention to detail, things may fall apart.

Notes:

(1) The Short Century was published by Prestel (ISBN 3-7913-2502-7 HB, 3-7913-2390-3 PB, 496pp, 2001). The exhibition was a collaborative event involving The Museum Villa Stuck, Munich; House of World Cultures, Berlin; Museum of Contemporary Art, Chicago; P.S.1 Contemporary Art Center, New York City; and the Museum of Modern Art, New York. The Museum Villa Stuck took much of the responsibility for the exhibition and book (Preface). Although the term "Catalogue" does appear in small print prior to the Preface, the same page refers to it as "This book" and "publication"; and the Preface elevates it to "this fine publication". These semantic inconsistencies hint at the ambivalent goals of The Short Century that underlines much of my critique.
(2) Mudimbe's Surreptitious Speech was originally published in 1992, and arguably would have sat as comfortably with other pre-published texts in Anthology. No source is given for Mamdani's essay, although there is little to suggest that it was specially commissioned.
(3) These "subjects" are defined by the heads of participating museums in the Foreword, as "art, film, photography, architecture, music, literature, theatre, and graphics". Enwezor confirms this list, except that he drops 'graphics' when he claims that: "the exhibition�looks at the totality of all spheres of production in Africa (Music, photography, [etc])" (p.14). He then asserts that: "the exhibition is divided into seven distinct subject areas", (my emphasis) and reintroduces 'graphics' but excludes 'music' (p.15). Adding to the confusion, Danzker (Museum Villa Stuck) omits theatre from her list. (op cit).
(4) Elsewhere Enwezor refers to it as "The Reader" (p.15). Danzker tells us that a "team of researchers� travelled the world for more than two years locating documents and gathering information�" (op cit)
(5) p.10. From Nkrumah's speech at the opening session of the All-African People's Conference.
(6) According to Danzker "[The Short Century] describes the impact of independence and liberation movements on the African continent between 1945 and 1994 on the visual arts, literature, [etc]" (my emphasis)
(7) Danzker recalls that: "During our first meeting Okwui Enwezor noted that the crucial question which The Short Century poses and which needs careful consideration today is: what indeed is the place of Africa in the writing of new narratives and conclusions particular to the proper understanding of the twentieth century? (my emphases)
(8) This is a solitary example of "Pan-Arabism" that follows discourses of "Pan-Africanism" that start with Nkrumah, Lumumba, and Toure.
(9) In one example Enwezor offers a clutch of conflated objectives : "The exhibition's principal aim is to explore and elaborate on the critical paradigms and ideas related to concepts of modernity, the political and ideological formations of independence and liberation struggles, their impact in the production of self-awareness, new models of cultural expression, dialogues with processes of modernization, and what lies at the heart of modernity itself out of the ruins of colonialism." (my emphasis, p.10) See also pp 12, 14, 15. Stressing 'modernity' as a central theme Nash asserts that "Africa's simultaneous connection to and isolation from modernity [is] an issue at the heart of the Short Century project." (p.339)
(10) These concepts feature in contributions from Enwezor, Danzker, Nash, Diawara, Okeke, and Wright
(11) Danzker claims that "[The Short Century] documents for the first time a fascinating, multi-faceted Modernism and Counter-Modernism that emerged in Africa out of the ruins of colonialism." (op cit)
(12) Mamdani argues that identities legally inscribed under colonialism have heightened the politicisation of ethnicity. He urges us to "�rethink the institutional legacy of colonialism, and thus to challenge the idea that we must define political identity, political rights, and political justice first and foremost in relation to indigeneity. Let us reconsider the colonial legacy that each of us is either a native or a settler�" (p.27)
(13) Morgan notes the tendency of African nationalists to create mythical figures and cites the example of Chaka Zulu. He writes "The very choice of the Zulu monarch as hero is determined by the fact that he conforms to the criteria of greatness recognized by 19th century Europe� Chaka built an empire, was a great military ruler, promoted centralized government and had a unitary conception of the nation. The corollary of this type of thinking is that those African polities that knew no emperor or centralized authority- and they are in the majority- are simply devalued (this time by African nationalists themselves) as belonging to a lesser culture�.Consequently the nationalist replicates some of the flaws of imperial nationalism" (p.305)
(14) Supporting this conclusion, one can also note the absence of anything resembling 'traditional' African art, i.e. works commissioned and produced for social purposes other than 'art'.
(15) Seydou Keita, Samuel Fosso, Santu Mofokeng, Zwelethu Mthethwa, Malick Sidibe, Touhami Ennadre, and Zarina Bhimji, are all 'art', and the first four all feature in Firstenberg's essay.
(16) While it could be argued that the theme of Bester's essay ('space') explains its location in Architecture this would be the only essay to be placed thematically rather than by art form. 'Soft boundary' or error resulting from unclear 'subject areas'?
(17) Affirming this historical bias there are 23 photos from the 50s, two from the 1961; one from the 70s; and two from the 90s (1990 and 1994). The lack of attention to the latter half of the last century can also be read into a picture of Steve Biko that is dated "1970s", whereas the other South African photos are more accurately dated. (p.216). One photo is printed back to front (p.212)
(18) Marion Kaplan, Marc Riboud and Ricardo Rangel. That these three are all incidentally lenders may (or may not) explain why they receive entries.
(19) Peter Magubane, Jurgen Schadeburg, Bob Gosani and Ranjith Kally feature prominently in Photography, but do not get biographical entries.
(20) The others are John Akomfrah, Gillo Pontecorvo; and Ousmane Sembene
(21) There are in fact two sub-categories: "Biographies", which includes all examples referred to above, followed by "Contributor's biographies". Different entries on Sembene feature in both.
(22) Maponya criticises "multi-racial" and "mixed-race theatre� under apartheid conditions" (p.313) He also accuses Gibson Kente (widely known as the 'father of township theatre') of lacking political integrity (p.310)
(23) Chinweizu characterises Negritude as "a generic term for the various impulses of black consciousness� [including] Senghor� the archetype�, Nkrumah's African Personality..,Cabral's "Re-Africanization"�, Biko's Black Consciousness Movement etc�" . This inclusive vision of Negritude contains "African Socialism.. Afro-Communism�, Afro-Humanism�" and includes Patrice Lumumba, Agostinho Neto, Jomo Kenyatta, Chinua Achebe, Amos Tutuola and Christopher Okigbo. Chinweizu writes that "What they all had in common was their insistence on resisting European cultural domination, on reviving respect for a subjugated African race, and on rediscovering, revalidating and regenerating black African cultures. Therin lay their Negritude, their black Africanism." In contrast Chinweizu has little tolerance for Wole Soyinka whom he describes as "a black Conrad who specialises in purveying to Europeans their own comforting myths about a barbarous Africa�his stock-in-trade- racial self-contempt." One of Soyinka's 'betrayals' is the fact that he dared to criticise Nkrumah and Shaka Zulu. (pp. 321-325).
(24) Bender's essay does not only take in Ghanaian highlife, and Nigerian Juju and Afrobeat, which even if out of the geographic and time scope would have still been loosely relevant, but also covers music from the (then) Zaire, Angola, Cape Verde and South Africa. Notable exclusions for a continental survey include Zimbabwean Chimurenga, as well as parts of the continent that have a strong Islamic influence, such as Mali and Senegal; the East Coast; and the Maghreb.
(25) It can also be noted that amidst the porous subject areas there is little recognition of poetry (apart from being ancillary to Negritude), as well as song and dance as acts of cultural resistance, as in much of lusophone and Southern Africa.
(26) Including Nkrumah, Senghor, Patrice Lumumba, Sekou Toure, Amilcar Cabral, Nasser, Julius Nyerere, Jomo Kenyatta, and Mandela.
(27) Including Frantz Fanon, Alioune Diop, Jean Paul Sartre, Aime Cesaire, Ousmane Sembene, Soyinka, Ben Enwonwu, Uche Okeke, Njabulo Ndebele and Kwame Appiah.
(28) An obvious error in Anthology is that resolutions from the fifth Pan-African Congress in 1958 appear under the heading of the Freedom Charter (pp.444-447). No source or date is given for Ndebele's essay, again affirming how the years after the 60s get less attention. (p.460).
(29) Chronology is also not immune from error, the most embarrassing of which is the erroneous attribution of the start of the Angolan anti-colonial war to UNITA (p.465). The formation of FUBA is put at 1980, whereas it is usually given as 1976 (see Pissarra Cross-Currents in Third Text, No. 52, 2000 p.99) (30) By way of contrast one can look at Sidney Littlefield-Kasfir's unpretentious Contemporary African Art (Thames & Hudson, UK, 1999, 224pp). Kasfir structures chapters around the exploration of key themes pertinent to the production and consumption of the visual arts, and arguably does more to develop a discursive frame with much more limited means.
(31) The personal nature of The Short Century is affirmed by Danzker who notes that: "It has been a privilege to be able to accompany Okwui Enwezor in his very personal search�" (op cit.). Certainly any objective representation of 'modern' Africa should not render controversial leaders such as Mohamed al-Gaddafi and Robert Mugabe almost invisible.
(32) The list of 'real' contributors, i.e. those commissioned for The Short Century, includes Mudimbe and Mamdani, although why these are separated from archival texts in Anthology is unclear. Certainly their privileged sitting at the start of the book lends academic weight to the 'proceedings', and adds a critical and contemporaneous flavour to the project.
(33) Apart from a brief quote that appears in Enwezor's essay, it is ironic that by being arguably the most high-profile exclusion from Anthology, Ngugi does not get the chance to speak for himself. Chinweizu mentions him almost in passing (p. 323); and one of the central challenges to 'decolonisation' presented by Ngugi resurfaces towards the end of the book. This is in the form of an indirect reference - "If somebody says I want to write in Kikuyu�"- and comes from an interview with Achebe, which is billed on the sleeve as an essay. (p 319)
(34) p.11. It is largely to the fine print of the Chronology that one has to go to unearth the briefest references to some of the less celebratory realities of post-colonial Africa.
(35) Enwezor overlooks seminal international resolutions on the cultural boycott that would have sat comfortably amongst other resolutions in Anthology.
(36) Chinweizu takes 'The Weapon of Culture' as the title of his essay but his focus is on Negritude and barely extends beyond the 1970s.
(37) p.37. I have argued elsewhere that a more objective evaluation of the boycott is still needed in order to identify its (massive) impact on the arts. See M. Pissarra (op cit, p.98)
(38) At one point Martin appears to confuse her governments when she writes that in 1989 the "selective cultural boycott, for which the government developed structures to monitor" (my emphasis). She presumably means the ANC, then still banned and in exile. Adopting a critique usually associated with the 'far left' she questions the ANC government's economic policies, commitment and ability to "address the inherited inequalities of the apartheid system" (pp. 42-43).
(39) Paul Stopforth, coincidentally the only 'white' artist in the group. This is not to imply that Stopforth left because of the boycott.
(40) Ernest Mancoba, Gerard Sekoto, Azaria Mbatha, Dumile Feni and Gavin Jantjes
(41) This is not to imply that there was no criticism of the Cultural Desk from within the liberation movement itself. On the whole, the redefinition of the boycott sewed confusion. Although the principles of the selective cultural boycott were essentially coherent, it was not always clear why particular exceptions were made and by whom. Its demise was unchallenged, even celebrated, due also to the timing of it as a response to the negotiated settlement.
(42) As noted by Martin, 'The State of Art Conference' "lamented" the absence of black delegates (p.37). The 'Towards A Peoples Culture Festival' was organised by a younger generation of cultural activists.
(43) The Culture & Resistance Symposium, organised by the African National Congress in exile and artists in Cape Town centred on the Community Arts Project. The 'symposium' recognised that art had a role to play in the political struggle, and popularised the notion of artists as "cultural workers".
(44) 'Culture in Another South Africa' was organised by the ANC's Department of Arts & Culture and the Dutch Anti-Apartheid Movement in December 1987. For a summary of relevant outcomes, see Pissarra op cit. pp. 95-96.
(45) The opening sentence to the Preface declares that this is "a visionary project, conceived by Okwui Enwezor".

Mario Pissarra contributes regularly on visual art and music to the Contemporary Africa Database, an internet project of the Africa Centre. He is the former Director of the Community Arts Project, Cape Town.