Thandiwe Muriu’s photographs stop you in your tracks. She is well known for her “Camo” series, depicting women draped in bright, bold, dizzying textiles against backdrops of the same textile. Her work is portraiture, meets Op Art, meets high fashion editorial, meets social justice. She gives voice to her sitters, both in strong visuals and the text and proverbs she posts alongside them.
This year, the Nairobi-based artist published her first book, “Camo” showcasing the years-long series that began as an act of self-expression and evolved into a community using one’s voice to stand for something. Her work is also currently on view in Venice, part of the collateral exhibition program of the Venice Biennale. And a radiant collaboration she has done with Infiniment COTY Paris has also just recently been on view at the 1-54 Contemporary African Art Fair, where it’s been on tour for the past year.
Muriu, along with 13 other artists, were invited to make a new work in response to their debut collection of 14 scents. Muriu chose Noir Encense, a rich, smoky scent inspired by the vision of a phoenix rising from the ashes. Inspired by this vision of renewing oneself, she Muriu created a unique piece, framed with the fragrance house’s original, stackable bottles.
Recently, Whitewall spoke with the artist about the collaboration and her recent research into the history of the Kenyan kanga textile.
Thandiwe Muriu Collaborates with Infiniment COTY Paris
WHITEWALL: What was the starting point for your collaboration with Infiniment COTY Paris?
THANDIWE MURIU: It was such an exciting thing! My first interaction was with words in the description of the scent. And then I got to experience it, Noir Encense. I was drawn to the description of the scent, and that’s where I drew all my inspiration for the piece. It was very spicy, very rich, and felt almost ancient. And that appealed to me because sometimes I think about textiles the same way. They can be old, they can be rich, they can be layered.
There’s a lot of symbolism in my work. It was described as “an incense reborn from ashes, erase everything and start anew, reinvent yourself. Become what you want to be. Like a phoenix, like incense, it is reborn from ashes. It rises and nothing can stop it. Take its strength, add black pepper, and channel it into a potent, intense fragrance, a talisman, to move out of the shadows into the light.” I drew all my inspiration from that writing. I really latched onto the idea of a phoenix. So in the art piece that I created, here eyewear is made from feathers to point to the Phoenix. The textile that I chose is orange and yellow, which reminded me of flames. The shape of the print on the textile reminded me of feathers. My subject’s hair is actually inspired by the COTY’s infinity symbol logo.
“There’s a lot of symbolism in my work,” —Thandiwe Muriu
WW: When someone comes to you with like this kind of collaboration, like when does it make sense for you?
TM: I think it has to be something that I will enjoy as an artist. And so here the challenge was, how do you smell visual representation? That’s a very interesting challenge. And using the bottles to frame the work was another creative challenge. I’m a creative at the end of the day, I want to push and test and see what’s possible. I say yes to things that resonate when I ask, does it have to do with women? Does it have to do with hair? Does it have to do with exploring identity and who we are? Does it have to do with culture? Does it have some element of cultural preservation?
I’m very big on cultural preservation. This year, I’ve spent a lot of time developing my work, “Woven Voices,” with a new project around the Kanga textile.
WW: Can you tell us about the Kanga textile?
TM: It’s a poorly archived textile. It’s difficult to find a lot of good documentation on its history. During the residency, I was speaking to experts and museum curators who know the cloth very well, trying to chase down its history, trying to understand the language of the cloth because the Kanga has a language embedded in it and you need to how to read it to understand what the cloth is saying. It’s known as a cloth that speaks. It has words on it, but the symbols mean things as well. Hopefully, I’ll leverage it in the new work that I’m creating.
WW: Is it something that’s still being made today?
TM: Yes. I have kangas. We all have kangas. Everyone in Nairobi has kangas. But through my research, I realized a lot of the history has been lost just partly because of how the cloth is produced. It’s made so fast and it’s machine-printed. I’ve been discovering all these things about the cloth. I’ve been sharing them with my community back at home. And we’ve all been learning about this piece of culture that we’ve been including in our daily lives that we didn’t truly understand. And it’s been an incredible journey of discovery.
I think I’m always struck by how much we can participate in a culture without really understanding it. My lifelong goal as an artist is to understand culture so that I can preserve it accurately, speak to it accurately, challenge it accurately. That has to come from a place of understanding. Sometimes, we assume if you live in a culture, you understand it, but that’s not always the case.
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WW: Textile plays a huge role in your, in your practice. Clearly! Has that always been part of your practice, looking into the history of the material you use to create your images?
TM: Absolutely. Anytime I see a textile, I want to see who made it. Can I see the history of it? I absolutely love any art that’s made from textile. So I particularly enjoyed this year’s Biennale in Venice because there were so many textiles. And yes, I’m known to pick up a book or two about textiles just out of curiosity.
Thandiwe Muriu’s Work on View in Venice
WW: I wanted to ask you about because you have work in Venice. Tell me about the pieces that are on view in Venice right now and what that’s like to be part of a collateral exhibition at the at the biennale?
TM: It’s a work involving the Kanga, the cloth that I was researching. It’s very exciting to create new work and push new boundaries. The work speaks about communal identity. With my “Camo” series, I’ve always spoken about or explored the idea of identity as a woman. But I began to ask the question, if I have an identity crisis as a woman, can a whole community have an identity crisis? And I realized the answer was a resounding, “Yes.” And that began my journey with the Kanga cloth and this new work called “Woven Voices.”
I’m still surprised every day about where art can go and take you. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I would be in the Venice Biennale. It is such an honor. It’s so exciting. It’s a little nerve-wracking because you have the opportunity to speak to so many people through your work in ways you never imagined. But I’m loving every minute of it.
WW: You said you loved seeing so much textile in Venice, and here in New York recently, I’ve been seeing so much work in fiber.
TM: I think we’re rediscovering the beauty of the language, the power of textiles. We forget the lessons of history. And I think even textiles fall in that kind of journey. I’m excited to be alive in a time where we are rediscovering lost textiles and leveraging the wisdom of textile-making to drive social change.
Kanga is worn by women and they use it as a way to speak truth to power. It was used in contexts where you couldn’t speak up, but by selecting this cloth with the words on it, you could say something without opening your mouth. It’s how women participated in driving social change, in politics, in addressing taboo topics affecting their communities. So as a collective using this cloth, the women could contribute to the development of their society and their culture.
“I think we’re rediscovering the beauty of the language, the power of textiles,” —Thandiwe Muriu
WW: Language is such a key part of your practice. Every time you share a work, you also share a proverb and explanation. Why is that important for you?
TM: I come from an oral culture. Traditionally we would capture wisdom through songs, through folklore, and proverbs. It is a beautiful way to capture history. The problem is, it’s a very poor way of recording history. There is an African proverb that says, “The death of an elderly man is like the burning of a library.” For example, in my family, my grandfather had traced our family back 13 generations. but he never wrote it down. He passed away about 10 years ago and we can only trace our family back five generations now. All that history is lost because we didn’t write it down.
A big part of my calling as an artist is taking this beautiful oral culture that we have and making sure it’s preserved for posterity, which means writing it down. Words are often a source of inspiration, but there’s also an archival aspect to my work because of that.
“A big part of my calling as an artist is taking this beautiful oral culture that we have and making sure it’s preserved for posterity,” —Thandiwe Muriu
Thandiwe Muriu Published First Book “Camo”
WW: Speaking of writing things down, you recently published your first book. What was that like to put together?
TM: It made me see my work in a different way. You have to really look at your work in a chronological order and almost study yourself. It was interesting to do that and see how the work has changed over time as I’ve changed, as my perspective that my journey of womanhood have changed. It made the work come even more alive for me because I realized, “Camo” is about women, yes, but “Camo” began as my recording, my struggles and my journey as a woman. I realized the struggles change, the journey changes, and evolves as I age. That’s in the work.
And beyond that, it was very, very special for me to be able to preserve the beautiful words that I’ve come to love in our proverbs. I thought, okay, I have done something towards preserving my culture in a permanent way. And lastly, it’s been really exciting to have the book because it means it’s available around the world, even in places where my art can’t go, the book can go and it allows more people to join me on this journey. It’s been so wonderful to have my community expand, my community of womanhood and self-discovery expand.
I’m African, I love community. The more the merrier. Part of that choice is reflected even in the price point. This book needed to be affordable because I want it in people’s homes. I come from a community where so many times, art is not accessible. If you can get into museum, the writing’s so complex, you can’t understand what it’s saying. On so many levels, it’s inaccessible. I just really wanted the book to be accessible.