But the experiment would have soon ended if the artist had not discovered, first with fascination, then astonishment and emotion, a regeneration and a real metamorphosis in his work. As we know, in the end replicants always escape from their creator
For his first three bronzes, Ousmane Sow immediately turned to his earliest works: Dancer with Short Hair and the Standing Wrestler from the Nuba series, and "Mother and Child" from the Masai series. Perhaps the most brutal, in any case the most nude and undeniably the most alive, even though they remain imbued with a sense of moderation, restraint and self control that we associate with the Yoruba and the Fulani.
In the remote Kordofan region, in the south of Sudan, where the Nuba survive
and still live, young virgins dance the myertum, the "dance of love".
They move closer and closer to the victorious wrestlers, who sit in a circle
their eyes lowered, after the annual ceremonial combat. They smear their bodies
with black or red earth to make them more athletic and desirable. Only bronze,
with its dark, shimmering patina, could recreate the initial erotic gleam of
the Dancer with Short Hair, her oblique, hollowed highlights, her supple, animal
power. With the Standing Wrestler the bronze makes him stronger, stockier, more
concentrated, more violent. He's certainly less human, standing there, one solid
block, like a god, a force in motion. The mask he has skillfully painted on
his face to frighten his opponents - here etched in green acid in the very flesh
of the bronze - acquires a virulence that is closer to actual Nuba war paint,
made from charcoal dust and crushed shell.
Contrary to the original human creations, they demand a resurrection of the
flesh, a touch of eternity as opposed to a rotting straw
And the mother breastfeeding her child with her dress and clothing melting into
the flesh is here transformed into Maternity. Emerging like a lotus flower from
the folds of clothing, colored warm ochre by nitrates, the young woman's head,
shaven, smooth and burnt dark by the sun, takes on a Buddha-like grace. Her
feet, however, deformed as in Picasso's cubist manner, coarsely hacked as Baselitz
might have done, remind us in an immediate, clear and perceptible fashion of
the wounds and shocks that African feet suffer from their endless walking.
Ousmane Sow is certainly not the first to color his bronzes. Giacometti and
Germaine Richter experimented with it before him, but as a game, a fad, a whim,
rarely out of necessity. For the Senegalese, Sow, bronze is inconceivable without
color, which is its mask, its interior adornment.
With Ousmane Sow, it's the Africa of bronze and gold, proud and heroic, that
comes to life under a beating sun.
Emmanuel Daydé