Interview with Kiluanji Kia Henda about Plantation, project for the Memorial to Homage Enslaved People

“The economic factor is the main encourager of this tragedy. It is mirrored to this day in Western societies, because the accumulation of wealth, which allowed the birth of the modern world, was done on the shoulders of enslaved women and men.” Plantation, by Angolan artist Kiluanji Kia Henda, was the proposal chosen in 2020 in the voting process for the Memorial of Homage Enslaved People. Four hundred aluminum sugar canes (an allusion to the 4 centuries of slavery) and a circular bench as a meeting place in the middle of a burnt plantation, in mourning, this will be the Memorial to be inaugurated in Campo das Cebolas in Lisbon. One of the most international African artists refers to the evocative and meditative meaning of the memorial, questions Portugal’s relationship with its past and explains the motivations and ideas behind the conception of his proposal around the plantation regime, and its implications. A memorial that summons the dialectic between the nightmare, the dehumanization of Africans and Indigenous people for the prosperity of Europe.

 

What places would you choose to memorialize in relation to coloniality or the African presence in the city of Lisbon?

Somewhere between the Vasco da Gama Bridge and the 25 de Abril Bridge. The symbolism that exists in the creation of bridges, the connection between the two banks, is important. On the 25 de Abril Bridge, it would be for the lives of African men and women who were lost during the war against the colonial yoke, which was also extremely important for the fall of the dictatorship in Portugal. On the Vasco da Gama Bridge, there is a record of several emigrants of African origin who lost their lives during its construction in the 90s. The poor living conditions of many Africans who emigrated to Portugal, after the turbulent independence process in their countries, was at the origin of the motivations for accepting the riskiest jobs, which were almost never fairly rewarded. Perhaps this way it will connect more than the banks of a river and the bridge will become a means of uniting thoughts and stories that are on the margins of our collective memory.

You conceived the project based on the history of sugar cane, which goes back to the beginning of the slavery process and the economic side. Why?

It is exceedingly difficult to find an image that represents such a tragic and violent period in our history. For me it would be very limiting if the Memorial had a figurative dimension, the representation of the body, although we are talking about people, of course. Considering the space allocated to the Memorial, it was important to design a piece that could be extended across the entire perimeter provided by the CML (Lisbon City Counsil) in Praça das Cebolas.

A regime of oppression is implicit in the idea of ​​plantation. How did the idea of ​​installing a “plantation” in the city come about?

The plantation is at the center of the slave trade. Hands were needed to work on the sugar cane plantations, mainly, of course there were other activities, such as mineral extraction. But in the beginning, slavery was related to the production of sugar cane. There was a sugar cycle – it was considered white gold – a business in which not only the Portuguese were involved, but the Dutch are also even well known for their sugar production. Since Indigenous people in South America were “labor hands” that were not suitable for this purpose, in part due to the resistance and opposition of the Jesuits regarding the use of Indian labor, the work fell largely on the Africans. This is one of the reasons for the intensification of transatlantic trafficking to the Americas. It is true that there is a common denominator which is the journey, the ship, crossing these seas, in this process of enslavement. But if we have to read about slavery, from the ‘Casa Grande e Senzala,’ in all mechanisms we find the plantation as the main factor in the perpetuation of this suffering.

It is curious that they went to get sugar, a European whim, at the expense of slave labor. Consuming sugar as a luxury, for example in the salons of England, was not a basic necessity.

The economic factor is the main encourager of this tragedy. It is mirrored to this day in Western societies, because the accumulation of wealth, which allowed the birth of the modern world, was done on the shoulders of enslaved women and men. So, I wanted the Memorial to reflect this, not only about suffering, pain and mourning but also as the presence of people who develop a well-being that Western societies enjoy, to this day. It is a way of legitimizing these minorities, the African diaspora in the various places where they live around the world, as an essential part of the wealth of these places.

Plantation, by Kiluanji Kia Henda 2019Plantation, by Kiluanji Kia Henda 2019

 

There is still the reading of a plantation in mourning, isn’t there?

It is important that a public work (especially a memorial) does not show just one face, but that it opens up to different readings. It is a plantation in mourning, burned, which reflects the lugubrious and funerary side of the plantation. And it also pays tribute to the resistance of the enslaved by the gesture of burning the plantation and boycotting the regime of oppression. The plantation is where the process of dehumanization occurs.

 

This openness and ambivalence appeared right in the initial title Plantação, Prosperidade e Pesadelo…

Yes, prosperity and nightmare can live within the same space. I wanted to convey the suffering, humiliation, violence with which people were treated, the entire process of dehumanization. For many centuries, and generations, there were people who were born into captivity, without any freedom. It is not just the issue of trafficking, of moving these bodies from their place of origin to Europe or the Americas but referencing the places where many people were born. It evokes the culture of violence and abuse perpetrated over the centuries, which is deeply rooted in the Plantation regime. It is important to mention the economic pillar on which Western societies are based, that is, on top of this animalistic and dehumanizing history.

 

How do you see the Memorial being experienced and the process of memorializing? What relationship can it create with the public?

This project was a commission, that is, I was invited to think about this work. Although it is my creation, I do not see it as an authorial work. It is a work for the city, designed by a collective, for a group of people. That’s why there are things that surpass me. I have the power to design a piece that aesthetically focuses on certain feelings and also a side of meditation, which is what you expect from a memorial. It does not only intend to reinforce the idea of ​​violence and indignation, but it is also important to reflect on history. There is no idea of ​​perpetuating and inciting hatred, but a space where there can be redemption regarding this historical period and crime for humanity. That’s what I hope people can feel being in a space like this. A place of contemplation, meditation and that allows debate and other cultural expressions.

 

What is the relevance of the Memorial being in Lisbon, relating it to Portugal’s role in the history of slavery?

 Lisbon is a fundamental city for reflecting on these topics. History looks at the Portuguese as masters of the transatlantic slave trade — the first to start it and the last to end it. Without any irony. More than any other European country, Portugal is a central place in what was slavery. Without forgetting the particularity that, in the 17th century, 10 percent of the population in Lisbon was Black, which is something incredibly unique in the European context, the strong presence of a community coming from Africa. Therefore, I think it was very pertinent for Djass – Association of Afro-descendants, to have this initiative.

 

 How do you think Portugal has dealt with its memory of slavery and colonialism so far? Do you think there is premeditated amnesia or is there a desire to reflect on the past?

 If, from the Portuguese perspective, we speak of the “glorious discoveries” as a crucial period in the formation of identity, the aim is to maintain this identity as immaculate. It takes courage to face, within this identity process, symbolism and heroes, aspects that are extremely questionable and repugnant. If today Portugal persists in looking at the past as the great days of glory, how can we face the most inhumane side of this heritage and think that the opposite, tragic and harmful, are also part of the country’s formation? This difficulty in confronting the most tragic chapters in history is a universal issue, I also feel it in the history of Angola. With our lack of courage and willingness to think about periods of extreme violence, we cling to what makes us proud. Rejecting the less happy, monstrous past seems to be mutilating what “being Portuguese” is, erasing part of the formation of the country itself. However, history, without this part of the facts, is a version full of omissions and lies. And so, it will be impossible for us to bury prejudices and hatreds, which do nothing to achieve the peace and harmony that is intended in the relationship between different peoples. 

Campo das Cebolas, photo by Rui Sérgio Afonso Campo das Cebolas, photo by Rui Sérgio Afonso

 

One way of documenting and transmitting memory is the academic knowledge that can be produced about this period, school manuals and media culture, or even the cinema industry, art…

As much as my work has the impetus for social and political intervention, I have many doubts that art can save the world, I am aware that it is necessary to take measures and decisions that can be much more effective. Yes, the manuals are extremely important. As is the inclusion, still difficult, of minorities in institutional and workspaces. But of course, I believe in art, as a means of dialogue, with the power to spark debates, with the aim of saving us from collective amnesia. There are many concrete actions, namely fairer trade laws between Europe and Africa, which can be reviewed.

 

As a kind of historical reparation?

Yes, when we talk about compensation, I think that not everything involves paying astronomical sums of money. For example, just having a fairer trade relationship and laws between the two continents could be a big step towards starting this repair.

 

In relation to memory policies in cities, what will be the role of public art as an intervention?

 Public art, the space where we live, the statuary that we celebrate and that the city offers us, ultimately, ends up influencing its inhabitants over generations. We have to think about who should be celebrated, why they should be celebrated and what we want to leave as a legacy, as a value that we believe in for those to come. Public space becomes a place of discourse, which speaks for itself. It is a place that everyone has access to, which is both good and dangerous. We need to rethink what we want in this space, without forgetting that we are in a multicultural city, and that we want to be socially inclusive. The memorial is also intricately linked to representation. 

 

How do you see the importance of the existence of this Memorial?

It is important to have an intervention that reflects on the history of slavery, which is directly or indirectly linked to a large minority that inhabits Lisbon, which will certainly feel part of its history represented in that place. A story that cannot just be kept in books or in simple actions, celebrations on specific dates. This representation in public space is extremely important. The place where the memorial will be located, in a noble area of ​​the city, I hope will be the beginning of a desire for change and open minds, to create more inclusive urban policies.

Translation:  Mariana Borges

by Marta Lança
Cara a cara | 19 June 2024 | Kiluanji Kia Henda, Lisbon, Memorial to Homage Enslaved People, plantation