On the Evening of the Nasir Market Fire

Mandeng is a small Nuer community along the Sobat River in Upper Nile State, South Sudan.  It’s on an oval of land a couple meters higher, and drier, than the rest of the swampland surrounding it.  In 2006 I was part of a team flown in and dropped off to repair a number of structures that were being used as temporary classrooms.  The isolated location made the fairly straightforward work extremely challenging.  There is probably no better way to describe the remoteness and difficulty than to mention that at one point we had to charter a flight from Lokichoggio, three hours distant, just to bring us a new drill bit.  All those we brought were broken and having replacements flown in was literally our only option for completing the project. 

Every Wednesday and Saturday around sundown the young people of Mandeng would gather on the airstrip wearing their best.  The women and girls would sing and dance in circles, waving freshly cut branches, while the men would stand back to observe and discuss.  On the evening I took the photographs I used for this painting, the sunset was made more dramatic by what we assumed was a distant bushfire.  It was only a few days later when back in Malakal at a security briefing that I learned the fire was actually the market burning down in Nasir, the nearest town four hours walk away.

Angel Margaret

Margaret came to work for my parents in the mid 70’s shortly after we moved to Chikombedzi Mission in what was then Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe). I was about four years old at the time but my recollection is that she spent most of her time helping my mother clean the house, wash clothes, bake bread, and look after my brother and I. The clearest memory I have of Margaret is her responding to my terrified screams and snatching me from an emptying bathtub to save me from a large black insect that crawled out of the drain hole.

My father called Margaret his African daughter and even though our family moved many times, we kept in contact over the years till she passed in the early 2000’s. Dad took the picture I used for this painting in our garden at Chikombedzi and it captured her spirit beautifully.

Blue Duku

The Shangaan tribe, an offshoot of the Zulu nation, live in the South-eastern corner of Zimbabwe.  They were the first people my family lived among and worked with upon arriving in Africa in 1974.  My father learned to speak Shangaan well enough to preach in the language and took the photograph I used of a pastor’s wife wearing a traditional duku, or head scarf, in a church near the Runde (Lundi) River.

Maizefields

With this painting I simply wanted to render an image of beautiful abundant Africa.  I paint what I do for many reasons, and one is in hopes of altering perceptions in some small way.  Without doubt I’ve witnessed difficult and challenging things in Africa (as I have on other continents), but more often it’s simple everyday scenes like these four children walking through a field in Zimbabwe.

Two of Many

A few years back I joined a team of volunteers to help open a clinic in a poor part of Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.  Every day hundreds of people lined up outside the clinic’s gates to wait patiently for treatment.  Many of them graciously allowed me to take pictures or do quick sketches, including this grandmother and child who were sitting on the clinic’s steps.

Zanzibar Market

Darajani Market in Stone Town, Zanzibar, is a colourful, fragrant, and bustling place.  There’s too much going on to pay attention to a mzungu who is just sitting out of the way not doing much of anything.  I didn’t have to wait long before the vendors were no longer paying attention to me and went about their business.  That’s when I raised my camera.  I caught a powerful moment when this fishmonger emerged from the shadows and stood in the light, his hands wet from work.  

There’s something in me that loves to work out detail and texture in my artwork.  I don’t always care for this demanding tendency, but it’s there so I don’t try to fight it too much.  I recall really working at how to paint the chiseled blocks of coral on the right side so they would look and feel like they do on Zanzibar.

Nyamandhlovu

Nyamandhlovu translates as “meat of the elephant” and is the name of the main pan, or watering hole, in Zimbabwe’s Hwange National Park.  There is a large viewing platform overlooking the pan from which elephants, sometimes in their hundreds, can be seen emerging from the bush to drink, bathe, and play in the water.  I’ve spent many happy hours on that platform, barefoot, eating biltong and naartjies (tangerines), binoculars and camera within easy reach. 

Dugu Tiki

My cousin lived in a village in Mali while he was in the Peace Corps and Badra was his Dugu Tiki, or headman.  In the painting he sits in front of a hut where the elders would meet.  I love the shapes and textures in this image - the woven screen, mud walls, and the bit of corrugated iron over the entrance with grass growing on top.  

I’m told Badra would not touch anyone, even to shake their hand.  As a young man a witchdoctor had apparently put a curse on him so that every hundredth person he touched would change gender.  While painting this piece, I often wondered how his personality was shaped by living with that curse.

Four Boys

Four Boys was my first commission.  I was asked to paint a picture of children in Africa and beyond that I had complete artistic freedom.  I had this great picture a family friend had taken of four boys with very distinct personalities and built up the background around them.   

Take Me With You

In 1995 I went to Rwanda to work on projects around Kibogora, a mission and hospital on a hillside above Lake Kivu.  It was one of the most remarkable times and places I have ever experienced.  About a year after the beginning of the genocide, Rwanda was a strange and often frightening place.  I think of those days as serene beauty contrasted with chaos and an ever-present sense of darkness that threatened to overwhelm..

This image was a scene I witnessed a couple hundred meters down from the hill where I lived.  For me the painting holds something of the feeling I had of the situation in Rwanda then…the boy badly wanting to get in the boats and paddle away to another place.

Rift Valley Masai

This painting comes equally from a friend’s photograph and memories of tall dark Masai figures emerging from the light powdery dust of the Rift Valley.  I attended high school on the escarpment of the valley and my classmates and I would sometimes go down into it to camp on weekends.  We would often see the Masai herding their cattle among the acacia trees or walking in the wide-open spaces, a flash of red against the khaki landscape.  

Man From Maxixe

In the early 90’s, during a ceasefire in civil war, I travelled to Mozambique with my father.  While there we attended a church conference in the small coastal town of Maxixe.  This man was part of the gathering of several hundred people and I recall wanting his photograph as soon as I saw him.  Dad asked permission and I took a couple shots.  Months later back at college in the U.S., I decided oils would be the best medium to use for this painting.  At that time I had only painted one other portrait in oils and and wasn’t sure I had the experience to pull it off.  To this day I am still told it is one of my best…but I give the credit to the subject who you can tell at a glance is an extraordinary person. His personality and character absolutely shines through.

A couple years after completing the piece my Dad was again in the same part of Mozambique, saw this man, and gave him a photograph of the painting.  I was told he liked it.