Victime Covid-19: Romario Rolook Lukau

Romario Rolook Lukau
Victime Covid-19
2020

Overview: Kinshasa-based artist Romario Rolook Lukau has posted this painting on Instagram.  An African man, perhaps a double of the artist himself, is bare chested and facing us directly, wearing a protective face mask, in front of a bright yellow background. His right torso (our left), arms and forehead are partially tattooed or painted with abstract shapes. Over his right shoulder (the viewer’s left) he totes an automatic weapons; over his left shoulder is an elaborate nkisi nkondi, with a ritual mirror embedded in its center. The  face of the nkisi seems to be that of a monkey; the figurine holds aloft in its right arm a open circular form, in which a spear or blade might be inserted, its  right thumb pointed upwards.

Mark Auslander: Wyatt MacGaffey, leading authority on minkisi and their diverse affordances, suggests in correspondence that the nkisi nkondi is perhaps here used, like the AK-47, as a signifier of African militancy and resistance in the face of the challenge of Covid-19.  It is possible that the artist may be in sympathy with assertions, circulated on line,  that the virus, or the projected vaccine, are specifically targeting Africans and they they must be actively resisted.

Minkisi nkondi (known in coastal regions as minkisi mbau) are the most potent form of minkisi, and can be used to enforce oaths that have been sworn as nails are pounded into them, and more broadly to protect an entire community. They contain medicines and spiritually charged substances, including grave dirt, often encased in a special abdominal cavity behind the core mirror, which implies energies and visionary capacities that move between the visible and invisible worlds. It seems appropriate that in this struggle against the invisible terror of the virus, this human figure would be protected in part through an nkisi, a kind of portable grave through which the powers of the ancestors are made accessible to the living.  The ritual figurine over one shoulder, which presumably once held a spear or knife, may function as a kind of spiritual gun, complementing the physical firearm hefted on the opposite shoulder.

Nkisi Nkonde (power figure)
Wood, iron nails, glass, resin
Angola, Congo, and Democratic Republic
of the Congo (Ambrizette region);
H. 51.4 cm (20")
University of Iowa Stanley Museum of Art

The nkisi nkondi depcted here is similar in form  to one in the collection  of the University of Iowa's  Stanley Museum of Art,  The Stanley’s catalogue entry for the figurine states, “The figure stands with one arm raised (the hand once grasped a spear of knife) with the thumb pointing toward the realm of God, Nzambi.”

Perhaps significantly, in Lukau's painting the man’s face mask and the nkisi’s mirror are side by side, and share a mixture of light and shadow, suggesting a resemblance between man and ritual object: in both instances, secrecy and enclosure may be linked to special powers.

I am uncertain how to read the designs on the torso, arms and forehead of the man; other paintings by this artist depicts similar designs on human skin.  They are somewhat reminiscent of design elements found in the art of indigenous peoples of the Northwest Coast of North America, motifs which at times speak to the intimate relationships between persons and nature's beings. Perhaps the artist here hints at comparable affinities between humans and creatures of the forest, or evokes flows of energy pulsating through the body.

Several Bakongo minkisi nkondi in museum collections including in the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Leiden’s Rijksmuseum for Folk Art, do have monkey or ape features,  The fur of monkeys is at times used in the fabrication of minkisi. I am not sure if the monkey face in this instance bears special significance for the artist.

Although the nkisi and the male human figure evoke strength and vitality, the title "Victim (of) Covid-19" suggests that the person may be gravely ill. Perhaps he has in fact succumbed to the pandemic, and is in the process of moving towards ancestorhood. Representing him here in painted form might,  like the act of fabricating an nkisi,  help summon the invisible powers to safeguard the living at their time of great trial. 


Elaine Sullivan:   In front of a bright yellow background, Lukau’s male figure stands looking straight ahead, white surgical mask on, gun over his right shoulder. Above the man’s left shoulder, an nkisi stands looking straight ahead, its right hand raised above its right shoulder, a carved circle indicating where a blade would once have been. The man may have his gun on one shoulder and the nkisi on the other as two weapons to fight Covid-19, or the parallelism between the two figures with weapons over their right shoulders might imply that the man himself will act like an nkisi to protect himself and his community. Further, the white the of man’s mask doubles the white of the mirror over the nkisi’s belly, where a medicinal pack would like have been placed, a source of the nkisi’s power.

 In a time of airborne infection, one can also imagine the mask covering a cavity holding powerful, unknown substances. On the man’s body, white paint used on the figure’s skin brightly reflects light and divides the figure between light and shadow. Notably, the nkisi shines out above the shoulder in shadow, perhaps signaling its work within an unknown realm of ancestors and spirits (though to be clear not necessarily associated with negative acts or dark arts).

I have been thinking a lot about minkisi since first sheltering at home because of Covid-19. At home I worried about the virus, about my community, and about the unknown. On the one hand, the virus’ airborne transmission has exposed how interconnected we are with our communities, perhaps best illustrated by the reminders that wearing a mask does not protect oneself, but rather everyone else. On the other hand, the virus has laid bare the divisions within our communities, disproportionately affecting and killing the elderly sequestered in nursing homes, and those workers deemed “essential,” many of whom come from poorer neighborhoods and communities of color. I think of minkisi because of how they can work on both individual and collective levels.

Many of the minkisi made in Congo do not look like the nail figure painted by Lukau, but are rather small bundles of medicinal substances used for personal protection or healing. As Mark mentions, larger, anthropomorphic minkisi nkondi like the one pictured work on a community-level and some were community-owned. Each nail is a symbol of an instance the nkisi has been called upon to do such things as witness an oath or agreement between members of the community. To fail to live up to the oath would incur the wrath of the nkisi, ensuring all follow the social order. I have been thinking of minkisi because they protect and heal, actions many individuals but also entire communities are in need of right now. Considering the virus works in the beyond-visible realm, in addition to following doctor’s orders I would also seek a protector who also works in invisible, such as the nkisi-spirit.