by Alfredo Tjiurimo Hengari,
The Namibian
ABOUT three weeks ago, I attended a video projec- tion and
discussion around the disturbing oeuvre of the extremely talented
Congolese artist, Freddy Tsimba.
While Tsimba is brilliant, passionate about his sculptures, the
Congo and his city Kinshasa, he remains a marginal artist, not only
because he uses spent bullet casings in his sculptures to express
despair and hope, but because he refuses to surrender his artistic
independence to the state. About his beloved Kinshasa, he says:
‘Kinshasa est une très belle femme, mais elle est sans chaussures’
(Kinshasa is a very beautiful woman, but without shoes). Having grown up
in dusty Katutura and spending long vacations in Otjimati, Epukiro
(Omaheke), I understand what it means to feel grown-up, but still be
deprived of shoes. It could imply both the physical and symbolic
dehumanisation in front of peers and others with shoes.
