Maheder Haileselassie - Jabulani Dhlamini

Moderated by Julie Bonzon, 21 July 2020

JB: Starting with Maheder and ‘Between yesterday and tomorrow,’ could you tell us how this project came to life?

MH: ‘Between yesterday and tomorrow’ is part of a larger project titled ‘Shoa: A Geographical Passion,’ which originally involved two curators, three visual artists from Ethiopia, and three researchers specializing in history, anthropology, and archaeology. We investigated archives created by European travelers who visited Ethiopia in the 19th century and traveled to historical sites like Ankober and Aliyu Amba, which was once a marketplace in Shoa. In October 2018, we visited these sites and created work that was later exhibited in Addis Ababa.

JB: How did you juxtapose contemporary photographs with the archive, and how did you select the archival material you used?

MH: I didn’t use the archive as evidence nor did I seek specific information to rephotograph in the present. Instead, I treated the archive as an object of the past to merge with the present. For example, one photo features a portrait of one of the researchers who traveled with me, while the landscape is a photograph of the palace area in Ankober, a historical site. During our trip, I took these photographs and then searched the archive for images that resembled the ones I had taken. The archive contained a vast amount of material, including photographs, maps, and books by European travelers, so selecting relevant material was challenging. I used the images I took as a foundation and then chose archival photos that complemented them.

JB: What I find very interesting in both of your works, Maheder and Jabulani, is the relationship between history, memory, and photography, and how photography can filter our access to history or fill ‘gaps’ in history. Jabulani, could you tell us more about your series ‘Recaptured’?

JD: ‘Recaptured’ is a long-term project that I started before I became a photographer, through conversations with family members when I was still young. My aunt lost her legs in the Sharpeville shooting (1960). I initially thought she was born that way, but she later narrated the story, and I was too young to fully understand it at the time. In 2008, while studying photography, I began taking photographs in Sharpeville, which was not far from my school. I met other survivors there who shared their stories with me. I wanted to celebrate them and their bravery. After completing my studies, I returned in 2010. I aimed to give them more attention, listen to them, and collaborate with them. I would spend about two days with each person, each survivor. I was interested in trauma inheritance. Some people of my age, for example, young people, spoke about the shooting as if they had been there. I explored how trauma could be inherited by the next generation, how a place can generate memories, and how trauma can be kept alive. Most people brought me objects, such as old archives and photographs of themselves taken before the shooting, or took me to specific places that ‘trapped’ their memories. That’s how the project evolved.

JB: The project is a mix of photographs of portraits, objects, and places, is that correct?

JD: Yes, I also had informal recorded conversations with them, which I then tried to interpret visually and photographically.

JB: Looking at both of your works, I started to question what an archive can show but also omit, and how photography can potentially create a different archive, cast light on, or subvert an existing one. How do you consider the archive you are working with?

MH: History is a very contested matter in Ethiopia at the moment. We debate not just what happened but also how to remember it. I wanted to comment on that by speaking directly to Ethiopians through the work, instead of using the archive solely as a historical fact, which would have forced me to address its colonial agenda. That would have been another direction.

JD: There is a quote by Professor Keorapetse Kgositsile that motivates me and influences my work: ‘History gives us context and we draw important lessons from it. It affects what we do with the present as we lay down the foundations for the future.’ I looked at archives to start a conversation. The archive takes you back in time and can help us understand where we are coming from, where we are going, and where we are now.

JB: Thinking about photography in South Africa and how integral it is to its historical heritage, in museums, for instance, it is interesting to consider the apparent ‘lack’ of photographic archives in Ethiopian institutions.

MH: We have many archives in Ethiopia, but they are not organized. There are numerous photos, not only taken by European travellers or foreign photographers but also by Ethiopian photographers living in Ethiopia. Whenever I travelled outside the city, I came across small photo studios that have been operating for more than forty years. They have a lot of material, but this is not made available in public libraries or museums in Ethiopia. I was surprised when I came to Johannesburg, South Africa, to discover so many archives, accessible and organized into different categories.

JD: I like what you are saying, Maheder. I have been very interested in these ‘controlled’ archives in South Africa. I am more interested in these ‘informal’ photo studios where people are photographed the way they want to be, because I come from that background. I used to be a cameraman and photograph weddings and parties. My collaborative method came from there. I am more interested in that archive too because, as we know, often people were told how to pose or what to do in front of the camera. I want to give people a chance to tell their stories in their own way.

MH: I am sure that there are many photo studios across Africa similar to those of Malick Sidibé and Seydou Keïta in Mali. Their images inspired me to look for photo studios in Ethiopia. What concerns me is that we don’t have these photo archives in an organized form, and many negatives have been lost.

JD: Yes, we should care about and value this material and find ways to preserve it for the future.

JB: Hearing you both speak, I am struck by the collaborative aspect of your work. Could you tell us more about that?

JD: Photography for me is the final part of a collaboration. I like getting to know someone; collaboration requires patience. You need to understand the person you are working with. Even when taking a portrait, I like to return and show them the image, asking what they think. To me, this is important. I like when both of our interests converge. Sometimes photographers want to take too much control.

MH: I completely agree with Jabulani. In my case, although I was not photographing people, I was still collaborating with the researchers and artists I was traveling with. When I traveled to Ankober and other historical places, I did not have a preconceived idea of the images I was going to make. Working with people who had various knowledge of the places was very helpful. It also alleviated some of the pressure of working with such heavy material. We traveled together for about five days, and all of the conversations we had about landscape, geography, history, and slave trading in Ethiopia really informed my knowledge and photographic practice. I gained a different perspective on the places through these discussions.

JD: Yes, I completely agree with what Maheder says. Also, by working collaboratively, especially in Africa or in South Africa specifically, I think we can decolonize the use of photography and rethink how photography was used previously.

The transcription of this interview was made possible thanks to Le projet IMPACT by Xavier Gradoux & Jérôme Jacquin.