Pecha Kucha Night debuted in Nairobi tonight at the new RaMoMa Gallery digs on 2nd Parklands Avenue and I do not exaggerate when I say it left me all warm and fuzzy inside.
But I get ahead of myself. First things where they belong:
Pecha Kucha Night demystified: a night for creative visual artists to showcase their work or tell the stories of who they are, or what they do, or share any part of themselves they choose, if they choose.
The highly structured format is what gives the night its unique flavour: twenty images shown for twenty seconds each for a grand total of 6 minutes 40 seconds of fame per artist. And, not more than 14 artists an evening.
Pecha Kucha is Japanese for chatter, onomatopoeically-speaking. As in, Yada Yada. In Kenyan, it’s a gesture. If you meet me and you talk and talk and talk, eventually, for kindness sake, I will be forced to demonstrate it to you. (The alternative would be commit a crime, and I’m a law abiding citizen, thank you much).
I like the artist types, I do. They’re my best friends, they take me as I am (me and Wyclef Jean are really big on that), they drag me along to all these neat, off-the-beaten path events, and they dress different. What’s not to like, really?
(In Nairobi, you know you’re in the company of the artists by examining the top of the head. There’ll be a much higher concentration of dreadlocks across the gender divide than in the general population, and a generous sprinkling of other unconventional hairdos into the bargain. If there isn’t, you’re in the wrong place. I. Kid. You. Not.)
(Big shout out to the number one visual artist in my life—you know who you are.(which is usually the safe thing to say when there’s more than one and you don’t want to offend anyone but really, in this case, YOU do KNOW who you are. BIG. AWKWARD. WINK.)
Back to that warm and fuzzy feeling. It’s not the wine, I’m a teetotaller. It’s not even that we were a little shy of 100 people crammed into an improvised space at RaMoMa. That was actually kinda neat in its own way.
And it's my fault really, that I refused to move to the front when Mumbi Kaigwa counselled it and so I ended up spending much of my time craning my neck behind this really tall somebody who came and sat right in front of me. Seriously, nobody's fault but my own.
The warm and the fuzz comes from all the creativity I drank in this evening from advertising professionals, and graffiti artists and architects and illustrators and sculptors and mixed media artists and designers. It went all the way to my toes and made them tingle.
This is a gig you don’t want to miss if, to borrow words right out of the programme “you enjoy a live situation, with atmosphere, energy and real human interaction.”
As it is, you’ve missed this particular opportunity to see what magic Point Blank has wrought with a simple ballpoint pen. And to hear how once upon a time Richard Kariuki was a little boy who wanted to be many things and how that little boy is all grown up and who that grown up is becoming. And even to sit silently under the direction of Naweed Awan as vibrant motion-themed photographs of Lamu by night whiz by, 20 seconds at a time. Or to see that stunning wood curving of a baby brought to life from coffee tree by Gakunju Kaigwa.
Everyone was brilliant, they really were, Timla Tieng, Joseph Barasa, Kamal Shah, Stephanie Gichau and Bank Slave too.
The work of each of these artists was outstanding, that was the primary reason why it was an honour to be there. But, there were also the questions that they asked and the stories that they told and the way they told the stories and the things they left unsaid and even their sometimes awkwardness combined with an intense connection with their subject and their work that gave you an insight into who the artist is and the way all that all came together to make for a truly memorable evening.
I am gushing. I do not do gush. End of gush, already.
I had a lovely evening. 'nuff said.
Next up, February, 2009. Seriously, you don't want to miss this and have to hear about it.
Kudos to Marta Anna Gloserova and the
Kenya Buzz team for making this happen. May next time be even better.
UPDATE: ohmygod, I go to the corner and hang my head in shame. How could I leave out the name of the only woman on the programme? Stephanie Gichau, thanks much for that charming guided tour through the world of advertising. Nobody corrected me, I remembered you to me all by my lonesome. Does that earn me redemption marks?It's my window, but I don't own the view.
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*Image by Warren Rohner
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