Angolan artist Kiluanji Kia Henda reveals The Fortress, 2019’s 1-54 Courtyard Sculpture Commission

Tell us a about your childhood in Luanda and what drew you to the arts?
My first relationship with art was through photography. Angola after independence had communist tendencies and photography was my first view of how it can be used as a weapon of resistance. My true passion was music, I was always involved in musical projects and theatre. From this moment I started interacting with many art forms. It is not as if I always dreamt of being a visual artist. I wanted to be a rock star! But today music is still a tool that I use. The visual arts became the best platform for me to apply all my knowledge into one space. It is a space I am very comfortable in.

Your parents were political in a new country, with new ideas and new identities to create. How do you think this has influenced your work?
I had a lot of influence from my parents, sometimes I don’t know if I am an artist or if I am a politician. I grew up in the middle of a civil war with my father who was an influential politician. Every decision they made could bring about fatalities, so there was always emotion, debate and argument in my home. It was a privilege for me to be in the presence of this precious information because at that time, our education system and the country did not give you access to your own history. People were afraid of having critical thought. This sparked my ability to express these concerns through art.

Do you imagine that your parents fight to break ties with colonialism and the identities thrust upon Angola have been successful?
It is still an ongoing struggle. They had a dream of being independent but at the end when they finally achieved this goal, there were many other things happening at the same time, so we still have to work on it. You cannot limit yourself to thinking that independence is just raising flags and singing anthems, there is still a lot to do to make the minds of the people free.

What is it about Luanda that made you focus on the social constructions of cities and the ephemeral nature of human constructions?
The Fortress is a frustrated attempt to move away from the political and social topics I have been exploring in my work. At the epicenter of this idea was the Namib Desert in the south of Angola, which is one of the oldest deserts on the planet. I am obsessed with the emptiness, with this place that has no history. I thought this could be a starting point for me, but it didn’t happen because I just brought all my problems to the desert.

I found a way to translate this emptiness into the urban space today. In Luanda there was all this construction after the war, people were very optimistic, but this model was empty. It was a copy and paste of Dubai. People just wanted to be ‘developed’. There was an illusion that this is what the people wanted, it was a mirage. That is why the title of the project is called A City Called Mirage.

Is it important to have the imagery of the Angolan desert – or city - in mind in The Fortess? The structure that we are reliant on, that of a consumer capital driven city, which is depicted in this bare boned outline, and the desert, which can be seen through this structure, is the ebb and flow of erosion and transience that is left behind?
The structure is based on the Sona drawings, which are sand drawings from the east of Angola. They are a series of five in different deserts. They are ephemeral drawings which storytellers use to illustrate a story, that are then erased. This was a perfect metaphor to talk about how cities are organic and that they have a birth, a life and a death. The idea was to create the sculptures at a point that is indistinguishable between birth and death, from construction or ruin.

The piece has meaning in an urban space such as this as well. The Fortress, by title speaks of a guarded, walled place that people cannot penetrate. This relates to Europe and borders that are becoming more and more closed. Europe is a Fortress.

Looking at it could makes you feel like our cities are hollow spaces with no shelter. How do you think we activate these spaces better?
The city has to be able to embrace the people, to protect them, to allow them to migrate. What does it mean to be illegal? The tendency to turn people into criminals without you being one has to stop.

What does the ideal city look like, feel or encompass to you?
In one word – inclusion.

What are you working on now?
Who told you that I am working? I am on holiday!