Artists

Nghidishange, Elisia

Ancestor Caller, 2022
Courtesy: Elisia Nghidishange

Elisia Nghidishange closely observes the workings of her traditional practices in a contemporary context, paying specific attention to gender and power. Most often she creates figurative sculptures that describe and reflect the circumstances of women. The works produced for this Triennial are no different, in this case focusing specifically on people and objects of power that relate to traditional healing ceremonies. Encapsulated within these works is a sense of loss for that which has been forgotten, as well as hope for healing and regeneration. Nghidishange has incorporated ready-made objects into each artwork, describing them as “Things that are louder than we could possibly imagine, even when there is no sound involved.” In the process of being used for healing, the importance of these objects is intensified and the relationship with humans is intimately forged. In this way, she weaves a narrative that is rich with symbolic and historical meaning.
Nghidishange combines plaster-of-paris and a steel armature with deconstructed clothing, sourced from second-hand street vendors. These strips of fabric are strung together in black, pink, red, and white, recalling Ondelela, the traditional Aawambo fabric worn predominantly by women, with origins in the colonial era. We see a calabash and cow horns, both of which were used to make sound, and through that sound to call upon ancestors. Clay pots were used to hold herbs that were inhaled by a sick person seeking healing. These pots were always pre-used and importantly were partially broken and partially intact. Nghidishange’s artworks also contain herbs that were used to calm ancestors when they were angry.
With these artworks Nghidishange remembers the beauty, hope and resonance of traditional healing ceremonies and the potential they held for re-birth. She asks, “Who will reclaim and bring back healing in this contemporary moment, and will they remember the objects that their ancestors used?”

Text: Helen Harris; deutsche Übersetzung: Johanna Schindler

Elisia Nghidishange closely observes the workings of her traditional practices in a contemporary context, paying specific attention to gender and power. Most often she creates figurative sculptures that describe and reflect the circumstances of women. The works produced for this Triennial are no different, in this case focusing specifically on people and objects of power that relate to traditional healing ceremonies. Encapsulated within these works is a sense of loss for that which has been forgotten, as well as hope for healing and regeneration. Nghidishange has incorporated ready-made objects into each artwork, describing them as “Things that are louder than we could possibly imagine, even when there is no sound involved.” In the process of being used for healing, the importance of these objects is intensified and the relationship with humans is intimately forged. In this way, she weaves a narrative that is rich with symbolic and historical meaning.
Nghidishange combines plaster-of-paris and a steel armature with deconstructed clothing, sourced from second-hand street vendors. These strips of fabric are strung together in black, pink, red, and white, recalling Ondelela, the traditional Aawambo fabric worn predominantly by women, with origins in the colonial era. We see a calabash and cow horns, both of which were used to make sound, and through that sound to call upon ancestors. Clay pots were used to hold herbs that were inhaled by a sick person seeking healing. These pots were always pre-used and importantly were partially broken and partially intact. Nghidishange’s artworks also contain herbs that were used to calm ancestors when they were angry.
With these artworks Nghidishange remembers the beauty, hope and resonance of traditional healing ceremonies and the potential they held for re-birth. She asks, “Who will reclaim and bring back healing in this contemporary moment, and will they remember the objects that their ancestors used?”

Text: Helen Harris; deutsche Übersetzung: Johanna Schindler

Ancestor Caller, 2022
Courtesy: Elisia Nghidishange