OtGO: Triptych The Galleys of
Souls Translated by: Alicia Sayell --
The original
text in German -- The Triptych The Galleys of
Souls
(2013-2021, acrylic on canvas, 215 x 300 cm, 215 x 400 cm, 215 x 300
cm) takes on difficult subject matter that has occupied the artist OtGO in his Berlin studio for several years, namely that of slavery and human trafficking.
Despite a continuing lack of visibility and the sense of the ‘taboo’
that such topics garner in mainstream society, these once historically
significant issues have become relevant again today, in times when the
Black Lives Matter movement in the United States, mass waves of refugee
migration in Europe, and the Corona pandemic intensify as political
points of contention. In light of this, one must ask again and with
much sensitivity: What do slavery and human trafficking truly mean? How
is the galley penalty related to it? And in particular, how does OtGO explore these issues through his works and open them up to contemporary
discourse?
First
of all, a few general words about these terms,
which appear to be so closely linked: Since the beginning of mankind,
we have been enslaving other humans. Already in antiquity, slaves were
thought of economically and by law as ‘unfree‘ and were considered the
‘possessions‘ of other people. Slavery describes
this relationship of
dependence and is synonymous with laborious, physically draining work.
Through the millennia and into today, human trafficking involves the
robbery and deportation of people – often to other countries – to be
exploited for labour or sexually abused.
Slavery and human trafficking have acquired sad notoriety in world
history. This is especially true of the major European maritime powers
during the Age of Discovery, which spanned approximately four hundred
years following the Middle Ages. First, it was the Portuguese who
deported Africans as early as the first half of the 15th century. They
exchanged goods for human lives on their shipping voyages and sold
these people as slaves. Soon thereafter, the Spanish also engaged in
the slave trade. Upon arrival in the New World, they likewise enslaved
the indigenous populations of the Americas and the Caribbean. In a
third stage, ships brought the raw materials obtained with such
'labour', notably cotton, tea, coffee, tobacco, sugar, and precious
metals, from the colonies to Europe. Soon other colonial powers entered
the 'flourishing' trade – among others: England, France, Holland, and
Denmark. The result was a second wave of millions of West Africans
being taken away to colonise the Americas. Only one in four survived
the brutal capture and deportation – mostly by their own upper class –
and the shipping across the Atlantic. Inhumane conditions prevailed on
such vessels: Slaves were squeezed onto the ships, body to body, like
pieces of cargo, on and below deck. They were put in chains,
mistreated, and left to their uncertain fate without food or medical
treatment. The seriously ill were disposed of, without delay, by being
mercilessly thrown overboard. The artist OTGO has intertwined the theme
of the slave-trading ships with that of the galleys, which were
originally known in the ancient world as oar-driven, two-masted
warships from the Mediterranean. The galley punishment as atonement
meant that convicted criminals were sent to row on such ships, which
subsequently often meant death under cruel conditions.
Compositionally, all three
large-format paintings of the triptych The Galleys of Souls exhibit a
homogeneous structure. Three hulls – and in the larger, central
picture, six – are vertically positioned and of differing sizes,
dominating the picture field.
Although the viewer can easily identify these
images as the forms of ships based on the title (galleys), an unbiased
perspective, from both a distance and under the lens of abstraction,
certainly allows for other ideas: Is the microcosm of organic beings on
display here, such as cells and paramecia? Can the leaf structures of
tropical plants be discerned on a macro level? Or more artificially
thought – are we dealing with Central American fan shapes in the style
of Mayan ornamentation? Or the brightly lit windows of a sacred space?
However, when approaching the pictures,
details abruptly tear the viewer out of these harmless chains of
associations, and one is confronted with the pictorial theme of slave
ships! Upon closer inspection, these ships reveal their interior:
silhouettes of bodies lined up in a doomed chain of strict order become
recognisable. They are human figures but, like planks, they are forced
horizontally and vertically into the shape of the ship. They represent
all the human bodies that were crowded together, drastically said,
like 'sardines' in the hulls of the ship. Those of them who have
already left this terrible ‘order’ on the ships or have been thrown
overboard, seem to fly in a wide arc over the ships or to swirl in
groups through the sea. Already at this point, the idea of souls –
which concerns the second part of the title – becomes understandable.
This oppressive effect is reaffirmed on a more formal level by OTGO’s
countless blood-red handprints smothering the canvas, and by his
distinctive signature –
consisting of a thumbprint and vertical lettering, this time in the
same blood-red – found at the sterns of each of the ships.
Detailed view: The
Galleys of Souls In
all three pictures the primary colours blue and red struggle with each
other in a luminous colour
palette. The background
is enriched with accents of violet and azure which, through textured
layering, begin to emulate a vast sea. The impressions of
two-dimensionality coupled with contrasting depths of colour and
tonality alternate in these pictures. Black marks the bulk of the figuration
who, in endlessly long rows, form the internal structures of the ships.
Others seem to 'swirl' freely in groups outside of the ship forms.
Everything belonging to these figures is black: the manacles, indicated
by curved lines shackling the figures together at the torso and neck,
as well as the codes of letters and numbers. These lists are subtly
found in the pictorial ground, in the contours of the ships, and
framing
individual human figures.
The third primary colour, yellow – the complementary colour of violet –
is a strongly lightened nuance assigned to the inner surfaces of the
galley ships. This yellow is further used for the brushstrokes that
partially outline the bow or the stern of ships and then merely run out
into flowing traces of colour. Are these ships that have long since
sunk into the sea? Wrecks that remain visible at the water’s surface?
Ghost ships? In any case, this fragmentary representation is
reminiscent of them. On each canvas, an individual dab of orange marks
a single patch of numerical codes and lettering creating a signalling
effect, like drawing pins used to display advertisements on a notice
board. At this point, it becomes clear: alongside the exploration of
the motif, the act of painting as such exhibits itself as medium in
this piece.
This can be experienced once again in the application of dripping paint
in the same colour palette. In addition to a thin glaze, it also
stretches in flowing tracks of colour like fine prison bars across the
canvas. Or does the viewer see traces of blood and tears? Together with
splashes of paint (especially in the third hull of the central
picture), they blend over the opaque black figures, who are essential
elements of the pictures. Defiguration
can thus not only be read in the aforementioned 'shipwrecks', but is
often caused by flow marks and splashes of paint that visually
dismember the figures. Figurative
superimpositions
can be found in the detached groups between the ship hulls or the
lined-up 'swimmers' at the stern of the last ship in the central
picture. The latter are seemingly positioned to appear as if their
souls have just begun to take flight diagonally across the ship.
The interpretation of a concrete
pictorial event
is left to the viewer because OTGO's works do not follow any scheme of
narrative, pictorial storytelling. This means that the viewer has to
discover the respective work, piece by piece. If they allow themselves
to do so, they 'stumble' over the ambivalence in the themes of the
slave ships and of the galleys in the triptych The Galleys of Souls.
This is because the depiction contradicts the title when trying to make
out oars on the ships, or when trying to understand the arrangement of
the slave bodies displayed inside as that of oarsmen in chains. The
hands of those chained together remain invisible – the limbs that
symbolise freedom, as the artist suggests. Despite the omission, one
is tempted to interpret some of the adjacent numbers and letters as
coded oar shapes in the broadest sense. But even these codes do not
reveal their secret, as they jump back and forth between anonymity and
identifying labelling. The artist often uses the common Mongolian word ‘bool’ (боол)
for ‘slave’. This can be seen, for example, in the middle picture
between the second and third hull. Shorter lists of names then provide
some variety, as in the third piece on the right edge of the canvas.
These names are taken from historical figures around the world who were
victims of slavery.
To determine a metamorphosis in OtGO's paintings, such as a 'change of
status' to a liberated slave or a transition from life to death, the
viewer searches the exhibited movement patterns and sometimes
spasmodically splayed extremities of the figures outside the ships.
Whether these figures actually stand for still-living swimmers, flying
souls, or dancing dead cannot be determined from the depiction per se.
Even without shackles, those outside the ships remain faceless
silhouettes in the same colouring as their brothers and sisters on
board. All together they recall the fate of slaves on such crossings,
whose lives often ended unnoticed and swiftly.
Triptych: The Galleys of Souls
–1/3 byOtGO 2013–2021,
acryl
on
canvas 215 x 300 cm, 215 x 400
cm, 215 x 300 cm
So
far these topics are 'splinters' of a large complex of themes that
OtGO's triptych The Galleys of Souls touches. The aim is to raise
awareness of a topic that has left deep scars in the collective memory
of today's Black People of Colour – a topic that frustratingly often
remains invisible or is deliberately made invisible. In order to
process this artistically, there are controversial attitudes. OTGO
comments on this as follows:
"A radical
position is taken by Kara Walker,
for example, whose oeuvre I have followed over several years. She is
one of the few who have managed to draw enough attention to the
subject. This may be intensified since Black Lives Matter has come into
existence. Walker's large-scale drawings move the viewer emotionally.
In her grotesque silhouettes, the fairytale-like depiction works
against the aggressive and obscene content. Walker provokes with her
installations. To denounce the British transatlantic slave trade she
exhibited the installation Fons Americanus (2019-2021) at the Tate
Modern Turbine Hall. The allegorical fountain is directed as an
'anti-monument' against London's Victoria Memorial."
In contrast, the painter OtGO himself wants to explore a reconciliatory
dimension. According to his own statement, he sees himself as an "ambassador"who has fulfilled the task
of setting up a "monument’" to
these people in the medium of
painting. More than that, OtGO wants to face the souls of the deceased
slaves "with respect and in devotion" to finally "liberate"
and "redeem"
them, as he calls it. This spiritual content is underlined by the
artist's formal decision in favour of the triptych – the format of
time-honoured altarpieces. Conversely, it is also the artist himself
who, through painting, frees himself from a motif that has weighed him
down for so long.
And through this 'liberating' circumstances, OtGO feels connected to
the
related method of an artist who approaches the difficult chapter of
slavery in an equally positive way. She is forging a new path that
unites seemingly insurmountable opposites: choreographer Bintou Dembélé
stages Jean-Phillipe Rameau's opéra-ballet Les Indes galantes (1735)
with hip-hop dancers as a "decolonised
version" in Paris in 2019. This
makes her the first Black woman since in the piece was composed in the
Baroque era to master this task at the prestigious Opéra Bastille in
Paris! Watching her dance, it becomes clear what is meant: she updates
the history of slavery through her "movements",
as she also explains in
an interview. She performs this to "commemorate"
the "marrons", escaped
plantation slaves, and to "turn the
language of the oppressors". "Standing
tall" is the maxim to free these people and to
preserve their memory she believes. Her body creates a physical
response through fluid inversions. For example, the dancer symbolically
'releases' the downtrodden utilising soft hand gestures in spiral forms
upwards, over her own head 'towards heaven'. Bintou Dembélé's movements
thus trace in the medium of dance for the "marronage" what OtGO's
painted figures suggest in expressive gestures outside the slave ships.
In
conclusion, neither the choreographer Bintou Dembélé nor the
painter OtGO can rewrite the history of slavery. They can however
convey it to people through their art and, as role models, promote more
sensitivity and hope in today's society with their positive approach.
America wrote the abolition of slavery in 1865. But to this day, Black
People of Colour there and in other countries experience the
consequences of slavery in the form of racism, torture, and police
violence. Child slavery in Africa, the Caribbean, and India, the flight
and drowning of refugees in the Mediterranean, and human trafficking in
Eastern Europe and Southeast Asia are still common phenomena in this
world. This should give us food for thought, especially in the current
crisis and its correlating ‘entanglements’, which necessitate us to act
with courage and humanity every day.