By Melis Dumlu
@melisxdumlu
Leilah Babirye, Obumu (Unity), installation view at Yorkshire Sculpture Park, 2024. Courtesy the artist and Stephen Friedman Gallery. Photo © Jonty Wilde, courtesy YSP
A person is not a potted flower but a garden of consequences, chance, and choices that blossom into who they are. We are products of our conditions but, at the same time, entirely responsible for ourselves. This duality sometimes forces us to build our own prisons and serve as our own guardians within the societal norms we seek to escape. At the same time, life depends on continuous acts of renewal and beginning. Individual self-renewal, therefore, must face the ghosts of the past.
Leilah Babirye continues to deal with her ghosts in the most courageous manner possible. In this article, I review Leilah Babirye's current exhibition, 'Obumu (Unity)', at Yorkshire Sculpture Park.
Portrait of Leilah Babirye, Obumu (Unity), 2024. Courtesy the artist and Stephen Friedman Gallery. Photo © Jonty Wilde, courtesy Yorkshire Sculpture Park.
Her journey from Uganda to the United States is not just a geographical transition but a narrative of seeking refuge and redefining identity. Her roots are tied to Uganda, where she faced intense homophobia, epitomised by the Anti-Homosexuality Bill of 2009.
The Anti-Homosexuality Bill is an attack on the LGBTQIA+ community, which criminalises their consensual relationships or displays of affection with penalties of up to life imprisonment. Those in protest could also receive penalties of up to 20 years in prison for the "promotion of homosexuality." Babirye's art challenges these discriminative, oppressive narratives by reclaiming and redefining them. She works with clay, wood, metal, and found materials, often representing masks and identities influenced by her cultural background and sexuality. These sometimes larger-than-life sculptures represent a variety of identities, creating a community where Babirye found home and reconciliation. Her sculptures often include items found on the streets, such as tyres, cans, and scrap metals, which echoes the prejudiced slang for a gay person in the Luganda language – "abasiyazi" – which is a section of the sugarcane husk that is removed as rubbish and thrown out. This choice of materials is both symbolic and practical. Her sculptures are not just visual statements but acts of defiance and reclamation.
Leilah Babirye, Nakambugu from the Kuchu Njovu (Elephant) Clan, 2023. Installation view at Yorkshire Sculpture Park, 2024. Courtesy the artist and Stephen Friedman Gallery. Photo © Jonty Wilde.
For Babirye, the word 'rubbish' finds new meaning in making her work beautiful, transforming a product to be acquired into a process to be honoured. Each sculpture comes alive, radiating and telling its story to whoever is willing to listen. They are not merely sculptures but meditations, conflicts, experiences, passions, and compassions, standing in unity and welcoming whoever enters the gallery space. Every story carries a fragment of its teller, forging a connection between us. As we listen, we give a piece of ourselves that lingers for the next listener.
Babirye evokes the history of her culture and experiences through her works, capturing the intricate dance between longing and belonging, each defining the other. Her sculptures are born from experiences of discrimination, rejection, and conflict. They speak of a yearning for a home left behind while simultaneously finding a sense of belonging in a new place. Despite the distance from her homeland, she remains deeply connected, her art reflecting a poignant blend of her roots and journey.
Leilah Babirye, Obumu (Unity), installation view at Yorkshire Sculpture Park, 2024. Courtesy the artist and Stephen Friedman Gallery. Photo © Jonty Wilde, courtesy YSP.
Her totem-inspired sculptures delve into the essence of identity, illustrating how the Ugandan Queer community perseveres whilst imagining and creating clans despite societal rejection. Babirye was raised in Kampala, situated in Buganda, a powerful kingdom in Uganda. There are at least 50 recognised clans within the kingdom, and Babirye reimagines her culture and heritage by creating her own community of Queer Buganda clanspeople.
Babirye creates ceramic heads adorned with traditions like mask making and elaborate crowns, symbolising the enduring pride of her people.
When I step back and take in Babirye's works, they stand big and mighty. They exude a certain confidence and an aura that is hard to ignore. The more time you spend with them, the more they reveal their nuances—all the elements that define them. From the detailed braids of their hair to the carefully placed gold or silver accessories, their faces blend seamlessly with the hands of Babirye. It's as if you can feel her working and conversing with these sculptures, and you can sense the bond they share. This connection radiates from every corner of the space they occupy.
Leilah Babirye, Obumu (Unity), installation view at Yorkshire Sculpture Park, 2024. Courtesy the artist and Stephen Friedman Gallery. Photo © Jonty Wilde, courtesy YSP.
It's been a long time since I felt so strongly about sculpture. I wanted to really get to know them, to learn from them. I encourage you not to merely look but to take your time with these sculptures. Find Babirye within them and ask them what they have to say.
By exploring themes of identity, masks, and names, Babirye's work critiques societal and cultural norms that marginalise LGBTQIA+ people and celebrates the rich heritage and resilience of her community. Her art serves as a reminder of the cyclical nature of these struggles and the ongoing fight for acceptance and equality.
Masks throughout history and across cultures have afforded many meanings and symbolism. They represent both concealment and transformation, allowing the wearer to embody different characters. In Greek and Latin, the word for mask means persona. Although a persona is not regarded as a lie or falsehood, it suggests that it represents only a portion of the truth. This etymological insight reveals a significant aspect of the Western tradition, where masking is closely linked to sustaining performative behaviour within social frameworks and cultures. The mask becomes a surface between the outside and inside, a mediator of identity and perception.
Leilah Babirye, Obumu (Unity), installation view at Yorkshire Sculpture Park, 2024. Courtesy the artist and Stephen Friedman Gallery. Photo © Jonty Wilde, courtesy YSP.
Babirye's sculptures show that identity is a constant negotiation between the roles society imposes and the authentic self striving to emerge. Her work reveals the struggle of LGBTQIA+ individuals in Uganda and beyond, highlighting the resilience needed to maintain one's true self amidst societal pressures.
Even though the roots of her society reject Babirye, she still carries kinship and connection, creating her own community of identities intricately tied to their ancestors. Our ancestors hold significant power, not through the rigid determinism of fundamentalist views, but through the ongoing dialogue between past and present. As Kwame Anthony Appiah suggests in his book ‘The Lies That Bind’, our cultural inheritances are constantly being interpreted and reinterpreted, shaping our values and commitments in a dynamic interplay. This dialogue does not strictly adhere to tradition but is an evolving practice that embraces change and innovation. And we, too, shall become ancestors one day.
Leilah Babirye, Nakakeeto from the Kuchu Mutima (Heart) Clan, 2023. Installation view at Yorkshire Sculpture Park, 2024. Courtesy the artist and Stephen Friedman Gallery. Photo © Jonty Wilde, courtesy YSP.
Babirye's work exemplifies this philosophy. She doesn't merely follow traditions; she forges new ones, deeply rooted in her culture yet uniquely her own. Her art serves as a powerful medium, connecting the past and present, culture and philosophy, through the lens of personal and collective identity. Her sculptures invite us to reflect on our own masks and the cultural narratives that shape who we are. Complementing this is a particular fragment of Walt Whitman's timelessly terrific book 'Democratic Vistas', "There is, in sanest hours, a consciousness, a thought that rises, independent, lifted out from all else, calm, like the stars, shining eternal. That is the thought of identity", and adds, "The best culture will always be that of … courageous instincts, and loving perceptions, and of self-respect."
Make sure you take a trip to Yorkshire Sculpture Park this summer to visit Leilah Babirye's exhibition 'Obumu (Unity)', which is open until September 8, 2024.
Commentaires