There is something very powerful about the ability to express oneself through aesthetic means. Everywhere I’ve been in Congo, there have been statues, paintings, sculptures; stone, metal, wood, oil, acrylic, colored sand, cloth, any medium you could imagine.
mask, Goma, Congo
It doesn’t matter how poor or rich a place is, there will always be art, music, culture. The cultural outputs of a place or a people that is most often seen as destitute are some of the most vibrant and beautiful that I’ve come across.
One of the biggest banks in Congo, TMB, has more art on the walls of its Kinshasa office than any other bank I’ve seen. Beautiful murals and paintings from several different Congolese artists. One of them (whose name I’ve regrettably forgotten) has sworn to sign his name upside-down on any ‘oeuvre’ he produces, until the situation in the Congo rights itself up. Apparently there was a period of about a year when he was signing his name right-side-up in the mid-2000s. This is no longer the case.
The bank also has an art gallery that hosts some of the most beautiful Congolese art I’ve ever seen. And c’est pas donné non plus. Paintings go for thousands of US dollars; the artists are known for their particular style and genre, having really made a name for themselves. One of my favorite artists has this amazingly vibrant style using some of the brightest colors in a sort of abstract way, and then also incorporating metal or wooden statues into his works. I’m trying to find a picture of one of his paintings that I can post. The originals go for about $10K, so when the kitchen counter change jar is full, I’ll be right on my way to buying one of those…
Across the street from this branch of the bank is one of the biggest houses of haute-couture in Kinshasa: Vlisco. Incidentally, a Dutch brand, but the super-wax they sell and their clothing design is unmatched by any other.
I said I wouldn’t roll down the streets of Kinshasa in Jean-Paul Gaulthier, but if someone were to offer me a Vlisco gown, you’d have a hard time getting me out of it.
The défilées must be positively blinding; a super-saturation of color and shapes the likes of which Bryant Park has probably never seen.
Mind you, the super wax in this store goes for about $100 for a bolt of fabric (six yards) and the dresses they have on display are not priced. That’s probably for good reason. The wealth in Kinshasa can be just as blinding as the colors of the fashion, so I am sure there is no lack of clientele. But the difference in price between a Vlisco gown and a tailored dress made by a street tailor has got to be about as striking as the contrast between apartments lining the Grand Boulevard and those in the outlying communes.
I leave you with a sunset. Just because.