Day 130 - Wooden ladle
March 2, 2019
Gallery 352 is an absolutely enormous space filled with objects from all over sub-Saharan Africa. For the first time in my gallery explorations, I feel daunted by the prospect of looking at its contents in even a cursory, much less careful, way. These contents include innumerable wooden masks and headdresses, some adorned with grasses, human hair, animal fur, and other materials; elaborately carved ivories, including a couple of elephant tusks; ceremonial stools borne on the heads of kneeling female caryatids (how strange it is to apply that term to figures that I've exclusively associated with Greek sculpture up until now); and spectacular brass figures and plaques from Benin.
A stylistic element that cuts across many, although not all, of these objects is the radical abstraction of the human face and form, reduced as these are to cylinders and ovals and ridges. This abstraction extends to animals as well: two brass leopards' heads are notable for the way the animals' spots are indicated by small circles that were presumably pressed into the molten metal. But there are marked exceptions:Two heads of obas from Benin seem to me realistic portraits that capture the rulers' distinctive features.
Many, perhaps most, of the objects on display had spiritual significance and were used in various rituals; I hear a tour leader say that religious leaders often "deconsecrated" them before turning them over to collectors. I chose today's object, a wooden ladle made in Liberia or the Cote d'Ivoire in the 19th or 20th century, because I didn't have to guess at its purpose -- and because of its wit. The handle of the ladle takes the form of the bottom half of a nude human female, her legs bent at the knees (where presumably the ladle was held). Perhaps 14 inches long, the ladle would be several inches longer if the knees were extended rather than bent. The cleft of the figure's vulva is clearly indicated; her calves are notably thicker than her thighs (elephantiasis? or ease of gripping the handle?); and all ten toes are clearly delineated.
A stylistic element that cuts across many, although not all, of these objects is the radical abstraction of the human face and form, reduced as these are to cylinders and ovals and ridges. This abstraction extends to animals as well: two brass leopards' heads are notable for the way the animals' spots are indicated by small circles that were presumably pressed into the molten metal. But there are marked exceptions:Two heads of obas from Benin seem to me realistic portraits that capture the rulers' distinctive features.
Many, perhaps most, of the objects on display had spiritual significance and were used in various rituals; I hear a tour leader say that religious leaders often "deconsecrated" them before turning them over to collectors. I chose today's object, a wooden ladle made in Liberia or the Cote d'Ivoire in the 19th or 20th century, because I didn't have to guess at its purpose -- and because of its wit. The handle of the ladle takes the form of the bottom half of a nude human female, her legs bent at the knees (where presumably the ladle was held). Perhaps 14 inches long, the ladle would be several inches longer if the knees were extended rather than bent. The cleft of the figure's vulva is clearly indicated; her calves are notably thicker than her thighs (elephantiasis? or ease of gripping the handle?); and all ten toes are clearly delineated.
Yes, I can say that I see the broad purpose of the object. But was it used in rituals for scooping up ceremonial foods or for dishing out food for an ordinary meal? Was it used only by people of a certain social class?Was it used by men or women or both? Was the ladle invested with spiritual power? How did people feel when they used it? Did women feel proud of their sexuality? Did men feel possessive of women, and of objects representing them? So many questions....
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