Interview Birds of the Same Plumage: The Heart is What Gives Love - Painter H. Wantue Major on Art STEPHANIE HORTON: Wantue, you have a brilliant body of work. You've done something new with the classical Liberian line, painting a looser spatial form using softer brush strokes. In this way your work reflects the aesthetics of modernist African art. Your use of employing different styles and techniques strays across realism, surrealism, abstract expression, cubism, to illustrations and cartoons. Artists like you, Aaron Fallah Brown, Leslie Lumeh, others, leap across styles so easily you make it seem effortless, but a lot of hard work and discipline are a big part of that process. Can we start by talking about the cartoon series you did at home in the early 1990s? How did the "Kountry Kartoon" newspaper series come into being? And on the question of language, address your choice to use Liberian English for the series. H. WANTUE MAJOR: Thank you. You make me feel embarrassed with all the compliments. I've always wanted Liberians to not only look but identify themselves as the models in my work. I've tried to help rescue the word 'art'. Kountry Kartoon epitomized the height of my social commitment and the call to duty to speak to the conscience of power. Kountry Kartoon had a simple message: education, entertainment and therapy. I started the series at the Inquirer newspaper in 1991. Remember Doe was killed in 1990. The Inquirer was a unique patchwork of ethnic diversity, from the managing editor to the venders. I was the art editor and the cartoonist. The title of my column was Kountry Kartoon. The word 'country' spelt with a 'K' was a satirical way of berating the fools and failed politicians who were bent on destroying one another. I addressed the issue of language once before in a 1997 interview with the New York Times by Howard French. The particular advantage of Liberian English is the appeal to the largest possible audience. People relate more quickly to what you are saying. Liberian English is very efficient, too, in the sense that one or two words can carry lots of meaning. That worked very well for the form. At the Inquirer, we had a lot of autonomy; that latitude did not allow abuse but rather ingrained in us a sense of zeal embedded in responsibility for our country and humanity. That freedom only awakened in us a spirit of good judgment at every level in the preparation and presentation of the abysmal conditions in the country. Kountry Kartoon was born out of the aches, deaths, suffering and desperation of the Liberian people by the very people who promised liberation and freedom. It embodied and personified my distaste for the retribution by means of the destruction of human lives, properties, exploitation, and the black market. Sudden Inspiration Copyright © H. Wantue Major STEPHANIE HORTON: And you did this during the bloodiest of times in our history to date. Doe time. Taylor time. The hard bleeding years. That takes incredible courage. H. WANTUE MAJOR: Kountry Kartoon had a strength and impact of its own; it provoked strong reactions from the reading public. Running a newspaper in Liberia under normal conditions is not an eight to four o'clock business. Now, imagine working through the chaos of war with killers at every turn. Undaunted, we worked under these extreme and dangerous conditions, uncertain, yet we were willing. We took the risks and stayed the course. While the Kountry Kartoon did seek and appreciate virtue, it was always interesting to probe the minds of the greedy and corrupt politicians, the skimmers and frauds. In the final analysis, it was the truth of what was. Very few were the men who dared speak truth to power, and this the Kountry Kartoon did very well with that characteristic "in your face" approach. It made politicians squirm. It startled and angered warlords, and it kept them pondering the truth to come out from the war crimes tribunal. People have told me that no artist had more influence on the sociopolitical landscape in contemporary Liberia than I did at that time. Kountry Kartoon was institutionalized and became an ornament in the Liberian news media. It could not have happened had the Inquirer family not invested their trust in me. Hats off to the family. STEPHANIE HORTON: How were you personally affected through those bloody years? Did anything happen to you as a result of your exposure? H. WANTUE MAJOR: War as we know is a manmade thing. War exhibits its destructive nature on everything that lies within its path. Isn’t it amusing that those who make wars are politicians and they are the least likely to take a bullet or a machete’s cut? Besides the physical and emotional effects of war, it's the psychological aspect that takes its toll on citizens. Like all families affected by the Liberian civil war, mine too has had its ghastly share and suffered the murders of our father, our brother’s daughter, uncles, and cousins, as well as very close friends. As a citizen and a family member, I was emotionally touched but not psychologically shattered. As an artist I was motivated and undeterred and was professionally challenged to confront the destroyers of Liberia. History had cast its lot at that juncture in time, and it was upon our shoulders the mantle rested. Could I allow my country to go down in the dust of time at a time when its very survival was clutched in the hands of greedy and wicked men? Besides cartooning that cried out the bitter truth to “power”, I led a team of artists and health workers into the internally displaced persons camps scattered around the suburbs of Monrovia, teaching, giving children hope and reducing the list of child soldiers. Those who didn’t want the war to end and those who felt at home in the conditions did not take kindly to our venture. Moreover, I and three other brave heroes made the momentous decision to launch the GIVE PEACE A CHANCE information leaflet series as an instrument to effect disarmament. Let it be known that not all the newspapers and media houses were about to report the truth. Some took their thirty pieces of silver and became propagandists for those destroying the country. During the April 6 war that reduced Monrovia to rubble, three news media outlets were burnt and destroyed. Inquirer burnt to the ground. Radio Monrovia offices were destroyed and properties looted. Funny, yet true, Radio Monrovia’s theme song was aired on KISS 89.9 FM. Liberians didn’t need to ask further; the culprit had made itself known. New Breed, the artists office on UN Drive, was destroyed, all the properties looted, including artistic materials for the displaced children. Our will to succeed was unconquerable and unbreakable, so when calm returned to Monrovia, Inquirer was the first paper on the stands. After the elections, the rebel president had decided to do away with his enemies, both perceived and real. The first to fall victim was Samuel Dokie, his wife, and other family members who were unfortunate to have been in their company. It was so clear because the security acknowledged that they had indeed arrested Samuel Dokie; he turned up not only dead, but burnt as well. The fact that Charles Taylor wanted to kill me was an open secret a lot of Liberians at the time knew. My name was virtually written on a bullet or bayonet; only the time to kill me was on hold. I should’ve been killed on the eve of Christmas 1997, that’s how badly the psychopathic murderers loved this artist. My death was to have been a very gruesome and gory affair. Imagine, my would-be killers would have ripped my heart out of my body. Few are the men who have seen their would-be killers and have lived to tell it, and I’m also one of those few lucky ones. It wasn’t my own power that saved me, it was the love of my God and his mercy towards me and my family that I’m alive today. The Lord has carried me and my family through those turbulent times. Some of those who wanted us dead have long since met their fiery demise, while the chief architect of the carnage is in the Hague, facing the war crimes tribunal. Finally, the Liberian people are patiently awaiting the final verdict and assuredly, the final Kartoon of cold-blooded murderers and destroyers of children and countless innocent souls will be written. Women Fishing Copyright © H. Wantue Major STEPHANIE HORTON: How has exile affected you and your work? H. WANTUE MAJOR: Living in the Diaspora has not taken away the torch that burns in my veins. The connection between art and memory is very basic for memory is the impetus for artistic growth. It is memory that is the bedrock of all of our endeavors. On the one hand, being away from home has slowed and postponed my dream and vision for art in Liberia. So many of us being abroad has taken from the Liberian people the chance to move ahead on time. But as we look ahead to the future, we want the opportunity to make a difference. Besides my own personal vision which I'm currently trying to shape into place, I love to see myself giving back to children, empowering them with the knowledge to move them a pace further from the brink. I've donated a painting to the United Nations International Children’s Fund. This was a watercolor painting of a little girl carrying her smaller brother on her back, and the title is "So Young, So Motherly". This painting was made into a stamp. The proceeds go to help poor children around the world. My art mirrors our society; it challenges the senses, and most of all, it is a tribute to the human spirit. STEPHANIE HORTON: Do you have any thoughts on how Liberian society can be more supportive of the arts? I've heard you talk about the visions of our dreamers, the visions from artists. Almost every artist I speak with talks about how much we need to see more vision from artists the way only artists see visions. We want to see more respect for the arts. I'm not speaking about bringing out dancers and singers to perform for the rich and powerful—that's always been done—or gowning dignitaries in beautifully woven country cloth robes, or presenting a stunning carving wrought by a master carver to a foreign diplomat as a gift. Now, I'm not condemning that, but given the overall neglect, there's an exploitative quality in how we use the arts only for certain celebrations and dress-up occasions. Sankawulo recalls in his essay, "I Dressed in Green", how Bai T. Moore's dream for Kendejah was reduced to that. But despite neglect, marginalization, disdain, from the First Republic onward, artistic expression and oral literary forms are nonetheless an integral part of majority Liberian life; those ancient traditions and the cultural beauty that has been disrupted in transmission from one generation to the next, impacted by the war, mass murders, displacements, the looting and thefts of shrines, and also significantly, by the national colonial mentality that we all seem affected by in one way or another. And I am one of those who grew up seeing masterpieces sitting for sale on the side of the road next to artists whose faces spoke of hunger. So we honor the artist Aaron Fallah Brown who broke through some of these barriers, and you knew Aaron and you know something of his passion and vision. What are your thoughts about a new social dynamic, a change that brings the arts from the margins to the center of communal social consciousness, from mere entertainment, from the wayward child slash perennial protester slot, to a place of respect in every aspect of Liberian life? H. WANTUE MAJOR: Everyone is an artist and a politician by the very nature that they're alive. Once your thinking pattern is different, people think you're crazy. Once your heart is not open to the truth before you, you are blind, Once its open, you get converted. The heart is what gives love. Artists need to know that they are equally bonafide members of society as any other Tom or Joe in any other profession. And artists, too, are required to contribute to the overall upliftment of society. Artists, scientists, mathematicians, doctors, poets, musicians are all artisans; they are the dreamers and visionaries of any society. It is equally right that after God had commanded everything in nature into existence, the LORD HIMSELF performed the very first art project in the whole wide world. He took some clay and meticulously fashioned and made man. Then He breathed into his nostrils, and man became a living soul. I respected Aaron as an artist. I liked him because he spoke his mind. He cared about the man on the street. He cared about social justice, those who didn't want to be led by the noses. He thought about Liberia's interest; what was best for Liberia. I remember Aaron talking about art going into the curriculum in the schools a long time ago. His passion was in using his talent to paint memories of his homeland, both the way it once was, and the way he wished others to see it. House Skirt Copyright © H. Wantue Major It is my dream to see artists take their respectful place in the Liberian society and culture, moreover, a place in the global setting. It is also not an easy task to undertake. It is an uphill battle. Artists will have to fight for a place within the socio-cultural fabric of Liberia. By way of experience, an ‘in your face’ approach is the best, and not only that, the artists must show proof for acceptance. If we have to move forward, we can't hold back. Thus, the artists must not bring quantity but quality to the table as a bargaining chip. STEPHANIE HORTON: We have had many brilliant artists whose work was of the quality you speak of, but they remain invisible and forgotten except by those of their own generation. If at all they are recorded, we can only find them buried in the archives of foreign institutions. There was another artist called Aaron Brown, born years before the Aaron Fallah Brown we knew. People referred to him as strange because he worked in isolation and lived a private life, wrapped up in his art. He was a sculptor, probably a painter, too; he was the one who carved those busts of all of the presidents standing in a row at the Centennial Pavilion that we trooped by as schoolchildren for programs. I remember being marched past those busts but don't remember ever being taught who shaped them. I also remember being told by someone that Aaron Brown also sculpted those statues in the public square intersecting Ashmun, Center, Broad and Buchanan Streets. There's Vanjah Richards, another brilliant sculptor, painter, brutally murdered on a Saturday in May 1990 by Doe's death squads who were looking for Walter Richards, and mistook Vanjah for his brother. He's not being taught. There is no "generational transmission" of this work, to use Dr. Asa Hilliard's phrase. So we have this history. What then do you believe is the function of art, the role of the artist in this era of what is called modernity, this era of reconstruction? How can artists overcome the barriers? H. WANTUE MAJOR: There are many functions for artists. Artists give tangible form to the unknown, record that which can’t be seen or has not yet been seen. Artists give tangible form to feelings. Artists offer innovative ways of seeing, stretching our own horizons by confronting us with someone else’s. The artist must possess a sound mind and independent thought and spirit. Artists must be socially responsible and morally humble, and attuned to the overall cultural upliftment of society. Artists must also take up the mantle, because not only are artists responsible for the beautification of cultures and civilizations. We are also saddled with the task of emancipating society from acts of destruction. The politicians destroy societies and cultures, while on the other hand, it is the artists who rebuild and without whom there can be no culture. Art is the tribute of the human spirit, and it must also serve as a guardian of the human spirit. Searching for Direction Copyright © H. Wantue Major I believe in the development of the human person and also the development of the institutions. Not too long ago, anarchy ruled the political and social landscape. Wisdom and patience failed to lead and rule judiciously, inviting ignorance, whose end bluntly and brutally reduced Liberia to an abysmal state of almost self-annihilation. As the war raged on in Liberia—mayhem, massacres, the rapes of girls and women in unfathomable ways, the various warlords and their thug murderers—with cannibalism also a treat on the menu, the situation would have given voice to the very stones on the ground. Amidst this dehumanizing situation, artists couldn’t stand at the periphery of this ongoing beastly party and do nothing. I organized a group of artists called the New Breed Painters. I’ve worked with artists in every setting possible – in school buildings, in the streets, in the refugees camps. Peace Copyright © H. Wantue Major Through those years, I taught art to students. I also gathered artists from every nook and corner in Liberia, working with them, holding workshops, teaching them new techniques. I’m duty bound to give the rooster of those brave heroes and heroines who braved the odds, at the time, to rescue our children from further destruction: The artists Aaron F. Brown, Amos Boyce, Hallie Andrews, Frank Dwuoe, Emmanuel Bailey, Fato Weremongar, Leslie Lumeh, Lawson Sworth, Napla E. Naplah, R. Toe-pleh Nigba, Tony Reeves, and William Blamo. The health workers and nurses who monitored the childrens’ emotional and psychological dispositions were Esther Neyor, Rachel Morris, Ruth Kpannah, A. Fallah, and Lewis Karmon, drum and music director. A Good Swim Copyright © H. Wantue Major During this period of reconstruction, artists must first of all know and realize that they are an integral part of society and as a social group must be willing to engage and be engaged. Now as never before is the time for artists to fight for their rights and be recognized, as well as accepted, within the body politic of the society. Artists must form professional bodies and these various artistic bodies can then form the national body, because then this body will by now or then have encompassed every artistic group that is in the country. Then officers can be elected with every sub-body being represented. Artists must be original in the works and creations. Artists must create a culture of trust, speak with openness, discuss differences. Artists must present themselves as professionals, and in the cultural fabric of the nation, most notably, must speak the truth. The Liberian society at this juncture in time must patronize the arts. Patrons could be private individuals, political, religious, or business organizations, or government, or even the whole culture, meaning the country. Art grows alongside achievements in commerce, science and government. Besides, artists are not the only creative bunch; scientists, mathematicians, writers, teachers, business executives lawyers, doctors, librarians, just to name a few. Artists occupy a special place in society; they devote their lives to opening the channels of creativity. And yet there is not an ounce of respect for artists from the government level. In order to support art in Liberia, the role of government is to build art galleries, art museums to house historical as well as contemporary arts, artifacts and other national heritage symbols and items of significance. The government must build a national institute for the arts, a school that will cater to the arts; create a national curriculum for the arts in the Liberian educational system from pre-school to the university level; elevate the level of the arts programs at the University of Liberia to the degreed levels; invite artists and consult with them on the aesthetic nature for the building and the construction of all public squares as well as all national and local monuments; support local artists by commissioning them to paint and place art in all the necessary public buildings. There must be laws that protect our national treasures. These must exercise full weight to prosecute those who will desecrate, steal and abuse our national treasures. Government must grant scholarships to all deserving artists and artisans in the country and abroad. The Liberian artists and artisans have always been an ingenious bunch who pride themselves in the production of local paint and dyes from local roots, barks, grass, berries and other forest materials, and the use of these materials by elders in the trade has been phenomenal and is still relevant for today’s artists who are actively engaged in the field. There is the need to move the technology involving the paints and dyes to a new level of production, improving the methods of extracting and storing. The ancient knowledge is very important. This kind of knowledge should also be tabulated and become a part of the arts archives. STEPHANIE HORTON: Can you speak to how you came into being an artist? H. WANTUE MAJOR: I remember from an early age that I was very much unlike the other children and students around me. I discovered that I had this strange gift of drawing. I was the only guy around with this skill. I could draw objects by just looking at them, and this ability of mine to draw seemed to amaze people and my friends alike. I'm Ready to Vote Copyright © H. Wantue Major I was born in the city of Greenville in Sinoe. Greenville is where the settlers landed on July 9, 1838. My family lived on Mississippi Street. I attended the St. Joseph's Junior High School and later the Episcopal Parish High School. Throughout elementary and junior high, art was a hobby. Besides art, I was good at extracurricular activities too. I was the drill major for both St. Joseph's Junior High and drill major of Parish High at the high school level. I also at the time played soccer. I was a forward and I scored goals. After I left Sinoe, I went to Monrovia, and went to the University of Liberia. I had intended on studying engineering, but my desire for art was overwhelming and by this time, I was slowly becoming an artist on the block. And fate, too, may have played a role in my choosing art as I did. I surmise that history is happy with my decision and Liberians will see themselves etched on canvas to bear witness to history that they themselves so ably inscribed in crimson. Premonition Copyright © H. Wantue Major My formative years were marked by research and driven by regimental experimentation on top of experimentation. It was also a time encapsulated by the development of a good work ethic. It was, moreover, a time of developing my creative senses through the various usages, manipulation and re-manipulation of the basic elements and fundamentals of art. I have a no-nonsense attitude and people like to call me prolific. I am an all round user of ink, watercolor, gauche, pastel, acrylic and oil mediums. Over the years, I have come to allow my creative pallet and abilities to flourish and flow from style to style. I feel at home and restive in pointillism, realism, surrealism, impressionism, cubism and abstracts. Crossing de Bridge Copyright © H. Wantue Major STEPHANIE HORTON: Who, if any, were the artists—Liberian artists—that inspired, encouraged, or mentored you? H. WANTUE MAJOR: There has been one daughter of the soil who at the time of our emergence to the scene embraced us, and this is the person of Cietta Mensah. Her touch was one of artistic baptism, as if she heaved a sigh of relief and was silently bequeathing and delegating the charge or passing on of the torch, to the upcoming generation. Her contribution to the arts is immense. There were many art exhibitions that she organized, giving her time and negotiation skills on our behalf. Her endeavors over the years helped the Liberian art scene to gain recognition. She had a sense of duty of leading Liberian artists into the twenty-first century. We pay tribute to this quiet giantess of the arts. Her creativity is mind-boggling. STEPHANIE HORTON: Thank you Wantue, for your time with this interview, and most importantly, for your work. H. WANTUE MAJOR: I am happy that we could meet during this juncture in our country’s journey to reconstruction, and as birds of the same plumage. The task is arduous, but not impossible. Liberia needs dreamers and visionaries whose creative wisdom can channel through for both the short and long term. An arts renaissance has now been created in Liberia. I was one of those who worked over the years to bring artists to the level of the intelligentsia, and thereby helped to enhance their lot economically. People can now say I want Liberian art, and they are bound to get art that typifies Liberia. And in memory to the fallen artists . . . Jallah Kollie, R. Vanjah Richards, Tecumsey Roberts, Jacob Dweh, Abraham Dorbor, Robert Toe, Caesar Harris, and Aaron F. Brown. It behooves me at this time to close with a favorite quote from this fallen hero, Aaron F. Brown: “I say bah, ay na e'zay. Buh we insah.” H. Wantue Major