"An African Master Who Ignores the Market" @wsj

[image]Joe Levack/Brooklyn Museum

EL ANATSUI'S 2007 'Earth's Skin' is at the Brooklyn Museum.

Ghanaian-born artist El Anatsui has had five record sales at auction in the last year and a nearly sold-out show at the Jack Shainman Gallery in New York. He's winning rave reviews for his solo exhibition at the Brooklyn Museum. And one of his huge pieces hangs next to New York's High Line park, a prime tourist attraction. But none of this solves what gallery owner Jack Shainman calls his "luxury problem": Mr. Anatsui's pieces are too big for some collectors, and the artist is disinclined to make smaller works to feed his hungry market.

"I have a waiting list that is probably over 500 names for smaller works," says Mr. Shainman. "It's really good, but it's also really bad."

Mr. Anatsui's rise in the last decade has been, in the words of one dealer, "meteoric," thanks in large part to the success of his monumental tapestry-like metal works, made from twisted bottle caps, milk-tin lids and other recycled material gathered near his home in Nsukka, Nigeria. Ten years ago, his works sold for 1/30th their current prices, says Elisabeth Lalouschek, artistic director of London's October Gallery. She has been working with Mr. Anatsui since 1995.

Though Mr. Anatsui has worked on smaller-scale wood pieces in the past, he has lately focused on his metal works, which don't often come in a size small. Ranging from around 10 by 10 feet to much larger, the sheer size of his metal works makes them desirable but unattainable for many collectors.

Mr. Anatsui says that he made a few smaller metal works (around 5 feet by 4 feet) about two years ago, and that he "may make them depending on how the spirit moves [him]." "I would let work determine its own dimension," he added.

To be sure, some buyers will find room for the large pieces. At Mr. Anatsui's gallery show "Pot of Wisdom," which ended Jan. 19, Mr. Shainman sold nine of the 11 works, up from a normal year in which he might sell three or four. Mr. Anatsui's dealers say that his big pieces sell for between $700,000 and $2.5 million.

His prices are high at auction, too. Bonhams London set the record last May with "New World Map," which sold for $849,152. In November, Christie's and Sotheby's BID -0.15%in New York both sold pieces for $722,500, and in February Sotheby's sold "Zebra Crossing 2" for $772,150.

"There's this momentum that's developing," says Christie's Saara Pritchard, head of New York's First Open contemporary-art sale. Though relatively few of Mr. Anatsui's works have come to auction, she noted, five of those sales in the last year brought in record prices for him.

Mr. Anatsui's international success is a rarity for an artist living and working in Africa. Other African artists—like William Kentridge from South Africa or Yinka Shonibare, who grew up in London and Lagos, Nigeria—have achieved some prominence as well. But unlike them, Mr. Anatsui has always been based on the continent, in Ghana and Nigeria.

Ms. Pritchard said that the size of the pieces does play into their collectability. "It's made them difficult," she says. "It becomes prohibitively large in some cases," though she said she didn't think the monumental works will lose their appeal. "It's something that contemporary collectors understand and are willing to work around," she said.

Whether collectors are willing or not, Mr. Anatsui's dealers say that demand has never been a driving force for him. "He doesn't want to just produce work that can fit in people's homes," said Mr. Shainman. "He wants to produce great art."

As his solo exhibition continued at New York's Brooklyn Museum, and in the wake of a nearly sold-out show and record-setting auctions for his works, the Nigeria-based artist El Anatsui on Friday answered some questions about success, studio work and time off. Below, a lightly edited transcript.

—Anna Russell

 

What kinds of projects and materials are you most excited about right now?

I'm invited to do more projects outdoors now, and it comes with the challenges of reckoning with a far wider environment beyond the enclosed space of a museum/gallery. [Plus, there are] opportunities to work with other media and professionals like architects and engineers.

How has your life changed since you retired from your teaching position at the University of Nigeria, Nsukka? What do you most want to do with your time now?

I find there is a simplicity in managing one's time, and so one concentrates or focuses on studio practice more.

Your work has been selling extraordinarily well over the last few years. Your recent show at New York's Jack Shainman Gallery nearly sold out. What has the impact of this financial success been on your day-to-day life? Has it changed it in any significant way?

Beyond more-frequent invitations to projects abroad, and therefore more travels, I do not see a significant change in my daily life. It is still basic, and, given the circumstances of the countryside where I live, simple.

Do you find any differences in how your work is understood and appreciated in Africa, versus how it is viewed in America, or in the wider international art world?

Probably the works are understood and appreciated in the wider world. To me the issue is not who and where one is appreciated or understood, because art is a universal phenomenon. I believe connections are made when people who have seen my works come to tell me (this is common at openings) how the experience has touched them, or several artists claim it has inspired or challenged their own practices.

Your dealers have mentioned how prolific you are as an artist. How many hours a week do you spend on your art? What does a typical day of work look like for you? And how do you stay disciplined?

I'm in the studio every day, occasionally on Sundays too. A regular day is: 6 a.m., get up and go walking and play some squash; 9 a.m., arrive at the studio, work with assistants and the studio manager, reviewing what's been done or introducing a new project till 3-4 p.m. Then home to work out new ideas or take on secretarial aspects of my practice, the two of which at times can lead to late nights or early mornings.

What do you do when you're not making art?

[On] free evenings I go to the faculty club to interact with colleagues at the university, playing games like draughts [a variety of checkers], or occasionally chess, or catching up on the latest news around.