In the dynamic world of contemporary art,Àdéjọ́ke Àdéronke Túgbíyélé stands out as a remarkable force, blending the timeless tradition of lost-wax bronze production with modern artistic expressions. Her work reflects a deep connection to ancient practices, where every piece holds the power of storytelling, spirituality, and cultural heritage. Tugbiyele’s creations, particularly her intricate bronze jewelry, are more than just objects; they are vessels of history and messages, shaped by Yoruba principles such as Àṣe and sùúrú, embodying the balance of action and patience. Her vision speaks to a broader artistic renaissance, rooted in Nigeria’s rich cultural legacy.
In this Exclusive Interview, Àdéjọ́ke Àdéronke Túgbíyélé bears it all out.
How did your journey with the ancient lost-wax technique begin, and what keeps you connected to this timeless craft?
As with the design of ancient pyramids, the production of lost-wax bronze represents one of the earliest forms of ‘institution-building’ in Africa. whereby the invisible manifests into the visible realm through a series of sacred rituals. This is aside from institution-building found within ‘family structures’ which among the Yoruba also mirrors and reflects many aspects of the lost-wax bronze technique – a person is elevated in “stages” along the course of one’s life. Being raised as a child in Nigeria prior to moving to the US offered the privilege of gaining perspective on the drastic differences between African and Western views of family-structure, very early on.
My journey putting this line of thought into practice actually began within the discipline of architecture, as early as the tender age of 14 through my design of a pyramid structure called the Imhotep School of Harlem for the NAACP ACT-SO Architecture Awards in New York. It was inspired by the great poet, philosopher and architect Imhotep. I recognized very early in life that both psychic and physical infrastructures had been ‘demolished’ (to borrow a word from architecture) through mis-education – undermined and replaced by new institutions via European colonialism and the enslavement of Africans. A few decades later I would borrow from aesthetics within traditional Yoruba Àdìrẹ /indigo-dye textiles in the design of a residence in Igbajo, Osun State in honor of my paternal grandmother – Princess Ruth Adetutu Tugbiyele. Everyone in the town recognized the 2-storey structure as ‘the blue one.”
However, the problem is much deeper. We know that with the loss of structure; infrastructure; traditional steps and sacred rituals, also resulted in loss of The Self and the displacement of the centered-soul within the body itself. And so reclaiming civic/family/physical infrastructures – either within African art or architecture – ultimately begins with The Body. And while I knew I was very talented at age 14, it’s something which I myself did not accomplish until much later in life upon coming-out as a queer Yoruba woman – and then doing the reverse, traveling inwards towards an alignment of mind, body and spirit in order to gain deeper insight into multiple-dualities that exist in life.
Perhaps because of its smaller scale than a building, producing lost-wax bronze jewelry and sculpture simply brought me closer and more deeply in-touch with an awareness that I had already developed in my youth. At the start of bronze production I felt a passionate drive which I had not experienced with other art materials, including palm spines from traditional brooms. Somehow, I found that I was able to revisit my childhood/youth very innocently and purely, through a different lens. However, revisiting early African institutions and exploring indigenous knowledge systems while simultaneously challenging frameworks as they relate to gender and sexuality is what keeps me connected to this timeless craft.
In what ways do you use bronze as a silent messenger to tell stories beyond the physical object itself?
From the texture of its surface to how it reflects light, a range of stories can be told from bronze sculpture – if that is what the viewer is seeking. However, the magical aspects of lost-wax bronze is not so much found in its final physical form, but rather in the process of production. So, I wouldn’t say that I use bronze as a ‘silent messenger’ but rather that the material itself beckons questioning and deep-listening. As I worked on lost-wax bronze jewelry and sculpture, I was certainly not interested in “telling stories.” I was interested in deep-listening to the material and how it desired to transform the maker- myself – as I moved through different stages from wax to metal. Why? Because I trusted that the transformation taking place, would manifest in ways that would lead to me “seeing” in a very different way. Therefore, I make use of silence for deep-listening, not for sending messages.
How do the Yoruba principles of Àṣe (creation) and sùúrú (patience) shape your artistic process from start to finish? Can you share how the Taoist balance of ‘action and inaction’ finds harmony in your work with bronze?
An aesthetic process honed while producing lost-wax bronze sculptures is working with dual presence of vessel and void. I engaged in this ancient practice of ‘action/inaction.’ Whereby it is called such within Taoism, an equivalent is the Yoruba principle of Àṣe / sùúrú.
Àṣe is the ‘power to make things happen’ and is defined as energy/force and sùúrú is its dual opposite – patience. However, this idea of being patient is not merely an idle form of just standing-by. Rather, it is a purposeful and intentional form of ‘waiting.’ In other words, Sùúrú is patiently waiting…for a great change. I explore the Taoist principle of ‘action/inaction’ (Àṣe / sùúrú) in considering the essential nature – truth that is naturally inherent part of the Beauty and Character of human beings (Íwà L’ewà in Yoruba).
There is this concept or idea in Taoist philosophy of not being able to tell the difference between the dance and the dance, when one is on the journey of enlightenment and Knowing the Self. That the two become so intricately fused together. And this is what we see when we gaze upon Nigerian textile-master Chief Nike Davies Okundàyé who remains a sort of “Buddha’ figure in the Yoruba imagination, in different parts of Nigeria, across Africa and indeed the world at-large, when it comes to the ”dance of Yoruba Àdìre”. This is the inevitable journey of any artist, and it became my journey as well.
I’ve said many times in the past that my decision to become an artist paralleled my ‘coming out’ phase, but I’ve also mentioned often that my practice has involved something of the opposite – ‘going in’ or, traveling inwards. This journey solidified and reached greater heights during my production of lost-wax bronze.
What am I suggesting?
Very simply that this duality of ‘coming out/going in’ can be a framework through which we understand the sacred path of ‘queer Yoruba aesthetics. But even if you are not queer and whether you are fully conscious of it or not, all human beings regardless of identity are simultaneously ‘coming out/going in’ as we are “making marks” and “carving wax”. As an artist, the material became my teacher towards Knowing the Self. A material is not something to be dominated, but rather – listened to. And through the questioning and deep listening one can become fully transformed, as you work on transforming the material itself. A sort of energy-transfer occurs, whereby – once again – the dance and the dancer become one.
How does Ben Enwonwu’s ‘Anyanwu’ inspire your vision of a new ‘Nigerian Renaissance’ in contemporary bronze art?
October 1st marked Nigeria Independence Day. I could not help but to think of Ben Enwonwu’s iconic bronze sculpture ‘Anyanwu’ and how at the time of its creation it signified a suggestion of the collective consciousness around ‘Womanhood’ and femininity with respect to the newly emerging nation.
Drawing from indigenous Igbo aesthetics as the name literally translates to “Rising Sun” I also see the figure in a new light – that being how Nigerian women regardless of identity have chosen to turn the lens unto themselves. To gaze fiercely, rebelliously and unapologetically upon themselves in new ways whereby historically, the male-gaze on the female body has been the focus. What does the new Nigerian woman have to say and how is she saying it to try reinforcing her own independence within a highly patriarchal society?
And furthermore if she is queer-identifying, how does Anyanwu speak to her own realities? What does Independence look like today, when homophobic laws that are remnants from colonial structures still remain intact? As the Igbo have embraced the work that signifies the pure and the enlightened, Yoruba people often view the pinnacle of womanhood via the aesthetic of ‘Mother and Child’ as seen in numerous sculptures and objects, carved of wood and other materials, such as the Palace Posts that frame the entrance to the Oba’s (King’s palace).
What about the childless (barren) Mother? How about the Motherless child? What about the divorced woman? The trader/entrepreneur? I write these responses from Boston Massachusetts, where Nigerian women in the Diaspora such as Gloria Omoregbee and Cecelia Lizotte have anchored their place with Obosa Restaurant and Suya Joint, respectively. What about the little girl who might dream of becoming president without feeling like its an impossibility or an idea that may be far-fetched? This interview comes at a time when Vice-President Kamala Harris is seeking the U.S. Presidency, to the inspiration of women and girls all over the world. In Nigeria, progress in the embrace of femininity can be found within all spheres, from WHER-Initiative and Pride in Lagos to Alara Lagos and kò Art Space. All of the above were part of the line of critical thought my mind/ori/head engaged in producing lost-wax bronzes such as Cadeau Pour Reine jewelry series, Couronné, Coeur #1 and #2 and Son de la Musique, and within my overall practice in general.
What, to you, defines this ‘Nigerian Renaissance,’ and how does your work reflect a shift from what’s been termed Nigerian Modernism?
We are witnessing a new kind of Feminist Movement within a new Nigerian Renaissance. One that does not quite resemble that of the era of Funmilayo Ransome Kuti, for example. It appears to be a shift from the view of Nigerian Modernism, the latter of which assumes the existence of social and physical infrastructures which attempt to hold together the whole of society.
What am I saying?
Have formerly demolished psychic and physical structures after the colonial intervention been rebuilt with wholeness and balance in mind? I am inspired by the promise of legendary works of artist/architect Demas Nwoko, by the elegance and grace of structures by Spanish architect Santiago Calatrava and, I find hope in the contemporary aesthetics of Lagos-based international design firms such as Studio Contra, to name a few.
Why do some so-called “modern” Nigerians praise terrazzo and marble as fine materials, and completely dismiss wood as a material that is “backwards.” Have all the incredible properties of wood been fully explored? How can a higher level of innovation with all materials – including wood – mirror and reflect the dynamic forms of innovation which we find present within indigenous Yoruba aesthetics? I would further argue that by fully exploring all dimensions of a building material such as “wood” – masculine (solid) and feminine (soft) properties, Nigerians could learn a lot about other aspects of life – including queerness and fluid sexualities within gender. All it takes is deep-listening to the material. But I digress, I know we are meant to be focusing here on bronze…however my “seeing” comes from the knowledge and process of lost-wax bronze, solidified from my earlier training in architecture. In other words, developing a broader poetics/aesthetics around the Nigerian Renaissance that is already evident in several woman-led initiatives, as well as within the queer-community.
How does the materiality of bronze, with its strength and permanence, align with the energy and patience you explore in your creations?
Much discourse around lost-wax bronze sculpture have centered around ‘restitution’ of stolen African objects such as Benin bronzes – their return to original owners, and the development of new processes for their re-presentation on the African continent. I further ask, how were these works made? Lost wax bronze involves multiple steps each developed patiently, but also multiple people – each bringing their own energies towards the manifestation of a final work. One must be patient to ask – who exactly belongs within the circle of production? And this initial step is critical – patiently determining which energies contribute to successful completion and towards an erect and permanent form. Very much like how an architect’s studio functions and operates. A practice of envisioning All Paths – gbogbo ona – develops.
In the Eastern Philosophy of Buddhism it is said:
The Dao gave birth to the One
The One gave birth to the Two
The Two gave birth to the Three
And the Three gave birth to the Ten thousand things
(Source: The Cosmos in Stone: Sacred Geometry of a Master Mason by Tom Bree)
The Yoruba philosophical equivalent to The Ten Thousand Things would be the idea of ‘gbogbo ona’– ‘all paths’ or ‘all ways’ – and, where the Spirit dwells. Ona metà – three paths – is explored in the bronze jewelry Cadeau Pour Reine 1, 2 and 5.
In the vast world of sacred geometric forms, there are of course many paths/directions toward the Center- the Self. Cadeau Pour Reine series places a focus on ‘3’ – metà in Yoruba, as an additional framework for which to develop critical discourse around queer Yoruba aesthetics. Traveling three paths – ona metà – we can engage more deeply in the sacred and creative dual-journey of the process aforementioned: coming-out/going in.
And yet it is simply one possibility out of many others. Gbogbo ona embodies a sense of the infinite, endless and limitless possibilities through which one may encounter the Divine – the 10,000 things. At his sermon at Harvard Memorial Church, Reverend Duncan likens it to ‘looking at a wooden pencil.’ He asks: do you just see the pencil, or do you see all the things that produced it? – the trees, the rainwater that fed the trees, the team that cut down the tree, the factory that processed the wood, and so on? It all depends on your level of insight and ability “to see” beyond what could be your own limited vision of ‘a wooden pencil.’
Do you see your bronze jewelry as static art, or do they gain new meaning when worn and experienced by others?
Adornment can signify many things ranging from beautification to power-dressing to the representation of cultural/social bonds, or simply making a bold individual statement symbolically. I learned while producing lost-wax bronze jewelry that ‘the maker’ must not wear much of it, for it can be falsely read by others as ‘totem’ that works against the intentions of the sacred art form.
That a fine line should be drawn between ‘the maker’ and ‘the wearer.’
In respect of this deeply-held belief, lost wax Bronze jewelry – Cadeau Pour Reine #1,2,5 – are ‘commissioned.’ I wear them as a reminder of my ‘rebirth’ and to affirm a newly-reached threshold on the Path of Enlightenment. I design jewelry for others with the intention and trust that will signify similar observations into The Self.
Looking ahead, how do you envision your art evolving, and what future themes or materials might you explore next?
Rather than searching for future themes, I would like to believe that I am simply on a continuous journey towards the true Self. And in doing so, I sense there may be another material forthcoming in addition to bronze – Gold.
Why?
Because gold jewelry – in abundance – is very true to my earliest knowledge of adornment, since infancy. With gold jewelry and sculpture, I would truly be coming full circle.
I am exploring how the ink drawing in sacred geometry – Soft Stone #19: Meditation on Metà – can be presented in various mediums including a bronze relief-work, and also through the discipline of architecture.
Sometimes, architectonic elements in other disciplines outside the realm of architecture also inform design. Traveling between art, architecture, fashion and biology, my design courageously pulls from multiple aesthetic streams and sources across the arts and sciences. Critical ideas I am exploring around gender and sexuality, Yoruba cosmology, numerology and the ‘Trinity’ have larger implications that lie far outside the realm of art and architecture – resonating with developing research within nature and the environment, in biology and DNA Genome projects, as well as it does in the sacred/spiritual realm of Christianity and Islam and other religious teachings including Buddhist, Taoist and Hindu thought. Futhermore, a bold step into the ‘queering’ of space in the wider discourse of contemporary African art and architecture.
Copyright: All images used belongs to Àdéjọ́ke Àdéronke Túgbíyélé
