Vulnerability in Dance
Failure Project
Letting myself fail is something I have always been very uncomfortable with, but having a project that allowed me to do that in a way that was free of judgment, gave me the room to try something I'd always wanted to try... Dance.
Rather than simply videoing myself dancing, I decided to explore flash photography, to create a flip-book of me dancing as my final piece. Although the initial flip-book idea did not work, it birth a new way of experiencing my dance, one that was more interesting, with the distortion of my form and an experimentation with color as I messed with the white balance of the camera.
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Self-judgement
Dance... My mind filled with tension, my body unsure of how to flow. What steps should I take? What moves should I do? In my mind, I imagined myself dancing free, all crazy and wild, but in reality I was shy and scared and insecure and asking myself, "why the hell did I even think of doing the?"
I can remember my first attempts at the dance photography, after taking my first series of photos, I had gone back to school to get my keys which I had forgotten and in moment I realized something. Staring back at the make shift stage I had created I realized that throughout my entire time of dancing, I had thought of so many opinions. I had imaged how so many people would be wondering why the hell I came up with the idea, or how stupid it was or pointing out how I can't even dance. I expected so many people to condemn and criticize me, thus in a space where it was just my very close friend and I , I shot myself with a million arrows way before anyone even got the chance to. In that moment, I realized that I was my greatest critic. I was the only one judging myself. I was the one hurting myself and that was a very powerful revelation for me.
'Dance With Me'
Installation
The ‘Dance with me’ Installation piece, was one of my favorite part of the failure project. In it, I explored my passion for creating interactive pieces, in which the audience could actually contribute to the art and maybe even create their own. The audience was invited to pick their favorite song and make the dancing images, dance to it however they wished. The idea was birthed while I was trying to sort out the thousands of photos I had of me dancing, while I was listening to music. I realized that by scrolling through the photos in sync with the different songs I was listening to, they could dance to whatever song I played and that really intrigued me.
Final Performance
After the entire growth process of the project, I really wasn’t still certain on how to end it. Would I make a flip-book of me dancing like I originally planned? Would I do the ‘Dance with me Installation’ again, where the audience is invited to interact with the project, by making my photos dance to a song of their choice? Or would I face my fears and just do a live dance performance?
I remember my teacher had asked me if through the process of dancing, I had gained enough confidence to do it live, but I had told her I hadn’t. However, after thinking about it, I realised that the bravest and most vulnerable thing to do, that really would serve as a homage to the idea of the ‘failure’ project, would be to face my fears and just do the dance live. So, I did it and I’m glad I did. I think facing that my fear, on y first project, really gave me more confidence continuing into the rest of the year and with the benefit of hindsight, I think it slowly revealed my love for performance.
Journal
Text and Image Project
Confusion, fear, anxiety, scenarios, thoughts... Living 10 different realities before actual reality takes place, my mind has taking me on walks past anything I have ever experienced. A word has once spiraled me into days of unending thinking. What someone else says. What I think. All those things that scare me an get me overthinking like the world is ending when it's really not. Before coming to uni, anxiety had been the foundation of months of my life. Uncertain, doubting, scared and unending cycle. trying to look months or even years ahead. One word, one complaint, one sentence and years and months of thinking sometimes, go into that one fleeting moment. Just like hours of thinking, carrying and dropping the laptop, procrastinating and erasing went into these words that finally exist on these page. In these moments of unending loops, the only things that kept me going were my journals. Moments of release, when all those fears, hurts, guilt and uncertainties were poured onto the page. Books in which, intense emotions were transmuted into loving and encouraging words and clarity. Books in which I could hear my own voice and think my own thought, I could feel my own feelings unrestricted. Hence, when the project of 'Text and Image' was introduced, I knew the only thing that could do my words justice was my journal.
A tale of self love, as the character frees herself from a cage that she realized only needed self-love to be broken.
Although I knew my journal would be the main subject of my project, I wasn't sure exactly how that would be.
I could highlight the stories I deemed important, I could show the parts I felt were inspiring and could help others, but none of that felt natural. I felt like if I did that, I would be picking parts of my story and I didn't want to do that. I wanted a piece that would incorporate my entire journal. Thus began my experimentation. Dismantling my journal was the most interesting and important part of the entire project. Once I did that, I began exploring the different ways I could play with and assemble the pages. I could tell a story with the pages, assembling them into 'a journal's tale'. I could, stand them and create a scavenger hunt maze. Or I could even create a sculpture with the pages, as I discovered they had a nice structural integrity. The possibilities were endless.
'Image'
Photo credit: Nicole Ellemberger
Emotions can be expressed in more than words. A physical expression. A change in lighting. A mood can be felt, expressed and captured just as it's happening, just like a photograph. It began as an attempt to play around with lighting and colored backgrounds, but then it turned into an attempt to capture how I felt in the moment and at different points when I wrote in my journal. Pain, sadness, anger, confusion, lost, uncertain, love, support... A story told through images.
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Final Piece
'A tale of a girl trying to live life'
After fulfilling the image part of the project, the next question became how to merge the images and the journal pages into one cohesive piece and the answer was the photocopy machine.
Using the photocopier, I merged the images I took with the stories from my journal. Matching emotions and expressions and inking the two pieces. With A3 copies of the cohesive pieces (each unique), I began exploring what I could do with the copies and finally cape of with the idea of a sculptural wall piece.
For me, this final piece was the perfect end to the project. A wall of memories, stories, feelings and different parts of me all morphing into each other. My highs and my lows, my exhibitions, fashion show and my fear, uncertainty and my quest for self-love, all merging into one another in this one piece. It was a piece that I felt truly reflected me and all my dynamism, because I wasn't just sad Adanma or anxious Adanma or confident Adanma or follow my heart Adanma, I was all of me. All my curves and my edges.
In the end, the piece was a tale of self-love. A tale of a girl breaking out of a cage she kept herself in for so long. A tale of a girl living live. A tale of a girl braving through all her fears, insecurities, uncertainties and emotions to go for and search for what she truly wants. The tale of a girl trying to live life.
The In-between
Make-up
Make-up had always been something I wasn't too keen on. Not really having much confidence in my own beauty I didn't want to feel inferior to my own self, however this project showed me another way of perceiving make-up. I began questioning why make-up wasn't just outrageous and expressive... and why I couldn't just be colorful everyday - restrictions I had about make-up. So, I did a whole week of face and hand paint, my own form of make-up.
Staring of inspired by a bored curiosity I began experimenting with my own form of 'make-up' and what was inspired by a day of bored laziness, became an enjoyable part of my mornings for the rest of the week. I was excited to see what I could come up with each morning, intrigued to see how the whole look would turn out. I felt more confident, more power in my step. I just felt good. I did't care how i looked, if it was goofy or wired, I just really enjoyed how I felt throughout the week. I loved how expressive and free it was. It didn't have to be prefect or look a certain way, it could just be lose and fun.
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Africa Deserves To Shine Too!
A trickle down of the projects before, and an inspiration from my week of make-up, the second final piece was created - my action of Dissent for the 2019 Laboratory of Dissent, and vandalism of my own work, turned into a new piece of art in itself...
"Africa Deserves to Shine Too!"
Since my friend Hans Lam's piece for Hong Kong, the thought had been swimming in my mind. What of Nigeria? What of Africa? What of me? This inner pain, a subconscious guilt, turned to anger and turned to expression. The pain of Africa, the way it has been belittled, stepped on, hurt, ignored by the world and even by me too.
Africa deserves to shine too!!!! I realized that. Just as much as I 'needed' to read the stories of world war two and Hitler, Africa deserves for its stories to be read too! Just as much as I needed to learn english, Africa deserves for it's language to be learnt too! Just as much as I was listening to British music, Africa deserves for it's music to be listen to too!!! Africa deserves, to be seen! Africa deserves to be heard! Africa deserves to speak! Africa deserves to be represented! Africa deserves to be celebrated! Africa deserves to shine too!!! And not just Africa as a continent, but Africa as the different cultures and histories it is made up off. Africa as the diverse tales that live within it. Africa as me. Africa as my work. Africa as my history. Africa deserves to shine too!!!
( I apologize because I don't have an image of the finished art piece. )
Inside My Mind
Self-directed 1
My mind works in weird way, or at least I thought so. Up until this piece, there were so many feelings and emotions that lived with in me that I was unable to understand or process. Thus, they stayed hidden in the shadows of my mind, until I could understand, process, express and release them.
Researching into this concept, I learnt that this was psychologically normal. The idea of 'unprocessed emotions' and processing them. Feelings that our brain are yet to fully understand or comprehend what they mean, so you feel them but don't understand what they are or how exactly you feel and thus they can manifest in different ways all in attempt for them to be expressed and released and for me it was through anger and frustration.
It began with my first piece, 'A wall of feelings' an out-pour of everything I was feeling inside after a week of confusion and unwarranted frustration. Through the piece I was able to turn the feelings into a physical reality on the pages I'd pasted on the wall. I didn't understand what the feelings were at first, but as I transferred them to the page, I could see them, and understand them.
Realizing my art was a tool I could use to help me process my unprocessed emotions, I did two more pieces, one tittle 'Family' addressing how I REALLY felt about what was happening in my family at that time and another one titled 'My first love' that allowed me to finally process my experience of childhood love.
 A wall of feelings'A wall of feelings' was what set the pace for the rest of the school. After spending a day off school, hoping it would help me understand what was going on with me internally, I was left frustrated as I made no progress in understanding why I felt the way I did. I needed to do something, to get everything inside out somehow, so I covered the wall in my room with pages from my sketchbook and began my process of trying to let it all out. From the eye, to the shadow, to the doubts and self-judgement about what I was doing (because it was during a live), to my rising insecurity and going beyond that to how I really felt. Through the work I discovered how I really felt about my self, my family and my insecurities. I got a clearer picture of what was really going on with me and what I was really concerned and hurting about. |  FamilyMy family was not a topic I usually discuss in my artworks, but with a recent event that came up re-kindling old feelings and creating new ones, it was one of the unprocessed emotions that art through this piece helped me process. I finally understood how I felt about my family, my hurt, my guilt, my wanting us to try again. Realizing that a family is made up of individuals who all need love and who all want to be seen and heard and who should all have the space to speak their mind and contribute their opinion of and say in the family. This piece helped me grow and inspired me to finally talk to my family about how I felt, something I had always been too scared to do. |  My first loveMy first love had always been something I had associated with guilt. This piece changes that. With this piece, I got to experience the love I felt, but kept hidden, even from myself. I realized hat it had never always been one sided and I too had feelings for the person. My mind went back, to cute moments and memories and to be honest I'm really grateful to the person and I'm glad we happened in our own little way. Thank you for loving me and thank you for allowing me to love you too, even if it was 8 years too late. |
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Final Piece
Inside My Mind
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Inside my mind... Walking into a bombardments of emotions and thoughts enacted by the hanging sheets of works from ‘a wall of feelings’, you are faced with disorganizes thoughts. Feelings you can’t comprehend or process, because the pieces as scattered all around. Though some pieces match and some give a clue or highlight a part of the story, you will have to first find your way through the world of disorganized emotions and thoughts before you can get to some form of clarity. As the audience, you can carefully navigate through them (a calm more gentle approach) , or you can shove your way through (a more angry and more frustrated approach), but you will find a way through.
Upon emerging from the bombardment of confused emotions, you face a painting, which serves as a mirror. It says ‘I see her, but how does she feel?’ A mirror held up to your face, asking you to reflect on how you REALLY feel inside. To look deeper into the unprocessed or bottled up feelings that lay within. Walking passed that mirror, you see a blank canvas with a tap attached to it, as the feelings you are slowly recognizing, flowing from your heart, slowly lead you into a state of deeper reflection and understanding of how you feel. Like the strings that flow from the tap, unravel into the large wall of feelings before you.
With a seat of nylons before you as you walked past the tap, you are asked, to take a sit and further reflect on your feelings in a space of more clarity and calm. To give into the calming call of the mellow music that plays in the space and listen to the deeper voices that play also in the space. To listen to the deeper voices that play in your mind and the stories they have to tell you. Finally you enter a space where you can listen to your unprocessed emotions and understand, process and hopefully release them.
In the space, at this point the viewer is met with the wall of processed emotion. A huge wall of the works on emotions that I had processed during the project and swirls of confusion that are plastered across parts of them and unto the walls. The interesting part of it, is that even within the swirls and the confusion, the answers lay. The piece portrays the whole journey of processing and understanding unprocessed emotions. The viewer is taken on an experiential walk thorough my way of processing my emotions, one that I hoped would lead to a deeper self-reflection. However upon further reflection , I realized that I should have dimmed the lights in the room, going with more of a low lighting vibe, in order to make the piece more experiential, as the piece seemed to visually stimulating for the audience to fully surrender to its experiential process.
The beauty of the piece for me was that so many tiny details laid within the parts, sheets of ‘a wall of feelings’ that were purposely hung together, or hung in certain positions to tell a story or give an advice. For me, the entire process of creating and assembling the piece was almost like a journey of rewriting my old narratives, understanding my old unprocessed emotions and learning from them. It was a very healing process.
'I Remember'
Self-Directed 2
'I Remember'
I remember her, I remember them. I remember I have a history. I remember they have a story.
What is it to be Nigerian? What is it to be African? What is it to be me?
I never thought my history mattered to me that much. I never thought African history really had anything to do with me. As an individual paving my own path and living my own life, I never thought it meant anything to me, but the truth was that it did. Inside, I subconsciously felt less and inferior. Subconsciously I felt this shame, pain and weirdness with being African. I felt like my 'Africanity' as Plangnan Shadrach put it, was a stain. Subconsciously, I didn't believe in myself. I realized that all the opinions I had about Africa were opinions I was subconsciously placing on myself. Feeling like I came from a history not worth being told and being publicized, made me feel like some part of me wasn't worthy. Like I wasn't deserving. This feeling that being whitewashed was somehow better.
I realized these hurtful opinions I had about my culture and my history. Feeling like English is a sign of literacy. Forgetting that my culture has a history of its own, a language of its own, a life of its own, a world view of it its own. It has it's own philosophies of life, it's own soul one that I remembered I had forgotten.
'I Remember' didn't relate to remembering my culture an my history, it meant remembering that I have forgotten about it. Remembering that I do not know anything about my history and my culture and my Africanity and I want to know. I want to remember.
Colonizing the Space
Chimamanda Ngozie Adichie - 'The danger of a single story.'
"The danger of a single story" The danger of hearing, seeing and living through stories and histories and information that have nothing to do with you. Stories that do not reflect or represent you.
Chimamanda's the danger of a single story, made me feel heard and understood. I explained why I felt so pained, so hurt and upset. Living a life that has so far reflected other people's lives, cultures, histories and cultures back to me, people that did not reflect or represent me. The stories did not match. I couldn't get the jokes and the plots and for the first time I realized why and it was because they were not my story. For the first time, I realized that my story wasn't being told and it deserved to be told.
My history, my culture - the Nigerian story, the African story deserves to be told. I deserve to know my own story.
Colonizing the space was my revolution - putting my story on every screen at the exhibition. My way of telling my own side of story.
She is Me and I am Her.
Spoken Word
She is me… And I am her. Me, my history, my culture, my people… Their culture, their arts, their ideas, their philosophies…
What did they think life was? What was their own idea of the origin story? What were their own beliefs and why did they believe them? What was life to them, what gave it its value? How did they see, experience and interpret the world? There’s so much I don’t know, so much I want to know. For so long I had been hearing a single story. Grown in a single tale, of what the world is, what gives it meaning, what its history is and I never heard their own story. Their own side to life. I thought there was only one way to see life, through all the books of scholars and the theories and sciences and what I had learnt as ‘history’, but I never realized that most of that was only based on ONE STORY and now all I want to do is hear her story too. I want to hear their story! I want to know my story, because she is me and I am her.
Every story deserves to be seen, every story deserves to be shared, not just one placed above the others. I realized how deep colonization had affected me (generational trauma). How deeply it has affected Africa and further perpetuated the idea of ‘white supremacy’. You take away people’s culture, you take away people’s history, you take away the links they have to their past – a past they can see themselves in, and then you tell them they are nothing. That is painful. For years I lived with that pain, thinking my history was too ‘local’, too ‘traditional’, too ‘barbaric’, too ‘uncivilized’ to be deserving of being shared. To be deserving of being told and being understood by me. I felt I came from ‘these people’ who didn’t know anything about life. What value did they have? Yet in this project I saw them. For the first time, I saw the magnificence of my own history. Its power, its glory… It’s a story deserving to be told.
Just like any history I’ve ever read, (European history) it has it’s great sides and it’s questionable side, but that’s the power of history. You see all the parts, take the ones you can grow and learn from and leave the ones that you have outgrown or come to realise aren’t right. You actively with history, not just condemn it and move on, mostly when ‘moving on’ is in the glorification of another’s also mistake ridden history, at the detriment of your own and at the detriment of your feeling of self-work. My history is worth knowing. My history is worth leaning from. My history is worth my active scrutinization of what beautiful and inspiring things need to stay and what old ways and ideas need to be left behind. I’m tired of my half story. I’m tired of the single story. I want to know my own story.
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Final Performance
'I Remember'