Traditional Art
Sandy Grant | Wednesday February 1, 2017 18:15
But how could anyone be bored by traditional art – it’s surely an impossibility? But because the internet has been so slow it took me ages to learn what she had meant by traditional art and therefore why she was so dismissive of it.
Of course, this turned out to be no more than confusion over words and the different meanings attached to them. It was quickly apparent that the lady was referring to art as it is currently taught in schools, or, if you prefer, to orthodox art.
Traditional art for me would mean the decoration of homes and music - but it would be good to get other people’s ideas about this.
Some will share my view that the former was a stunningly creative art form which has never been fully recognised. I no longer get around the country but it is my impression that places where the decorated home were common may now have absolutely none.
Cement has killed off the lelapa and with it the canvas for a varied form of mural folk art which embraced design, colour, texture and shape. It varied from the extraordinarily bold to the diminutive, from the eccentric to something more formalized. Some places had easy access to ochers; others had to go further afield.
With some, the yellows and browns were rich in colour whilst the whites varied from a pinky white to one which was almost startlingly pure. This was a people’s art form.
It was something that could be enjoyed by both rich and poor. It was possible that a woman who lived in a shack was as likely to produce something eye catching as one who lived in a palace. This was an art form which bespoke individual and community self pride. What is so now remarkable is not only the rapidity of its demise but its total obliteration.
The suburban house and a changed way of life have put paid to the artistry of so many women up and down the country. But how has it been possible for something so deeply embedded in people’s psyche, in their values and culture, to simply disappear leaving not a trace behind?
The most skilled practitioners are now older and in many instances will have had no one to whom they could pass on their knowledge about the sources of their ochers, the specifications about the other materials that were required, and the techniques involved.
Once gone this knowledge can never be recovered. For younger women, the work involved has had little appeal. But freed from the need to maintain their lelapa, to fetch water and, with many people, to farm has meant that women are now free to take up other occupations and different forms of creativity.
It seems, however, that this has not happened. Seemingly – and hopefully someone will put me right about this – the new routine is to watch television!