Dana Whabira: Experimental show

British-Zimbabwean architect-cum-artist Dana Whabira is standing in front of "Suspended in Animation" her latest masterpiece at the National Gallery of Zimbabwe. Her eyes scan the cold metallic figures representing man as a soulless mechanized slave to global systems of undemocratic employment.

She isn't a woman to be pigeonholed; her portfolio has ventured down many artistic pathways including painting, photography, sculpture and is in the process of using Super 8mm film to document snapshots of modern Harare life. The National Gallery has recently gone against the grain by giving space to Whabira's evocative works starting with Kiss Kiss and now her solo show Suspended in Animation is creating loud discourse amongst local art connoisseurs.

Whabira is self-effacing, unpretentious and does not seem to take herself seriously but her art is ostentatiously arty. I found it humorous, when a young future art critic motioned to his art appreciating mother "But mum…its junk", Whabira who was within earshot of the conversation laughed loudly and seemed to wallow in the misunderstood genius label. Her installations, the latest of which is a brave foray into an alien art world by African standards, are creating more questions than answers – such as "Is this art?'



African art is normally tangible paintings, figurines that are bought and displayed on walls or mantels. To the casual observer an installation such as "Suspended in Animation" does not seem like art but pieces of metal without commercial value. In a world where art is now market driven, the nature of Whabira's work is such that it is impermanent and cannot be purchased or preserved by collectors. The non-commercial value of installation art makes it difficult for this type of art to prosper in the African art market. Whabira's installations are blazing a supernova trail in an art world that is yet to understand its relevance.

This artwork reminds me of my immigrant narrative doing dead-end jobs to pay never-ending bills until my dreams died and were buried in the cemetery of discontinued dreams. It captures the dead dreams of thousands of African students who take up part-time work to survive in Europe's expensive cities and then become trapped in the circle of the hamster's cage.