D aughter of the Milan-based collector Anna Demina, Margarita grew up surrounded by African art. Today, she is a young creative who has published her own magazine, ‘MAD’, and will be embarking on a Masters course in Contemporary Photography, Practices and Philosophies at Central St Martins in September. We met her to talk about her childhood, being influenced by her collector mother, and the numerous ways her parents' collection has shaped her own, distinct, creative practice.
Can you tell us a bit about your upbringing and how your mother's love of art shaped your own artistic journey?
I was born in Ukraine – my family is Ukrainian – and I grew up in Moscow, Ethiopia, Morocco, Tunisia and Italy. Today, I’m based between Paris and Milan. As I’ve been raised in numerous countries, I struggle with a sense of identity. African arts have helped me pay closer attention to what it means to be authentic and how I see the world around me. Ever since I began taking photographs at the age of 14, I’ve been taking my camera everywhere I go, which is why my work has a lot to do with photojournalism as well as fashion.
Your mother is the collector Anna Demina. Which works from her collection have fascinated you over the years?
Like my mother, I’m a big fan of works from Gabon, I see a quality of form and shape that I don’t find [in art] from other places. I’ve always been in awe of the Kota reliquary figures because of the combination of materials – iron and wood – and the geometrical abstraction of the positive and negative space. No two Kota are identical, even if they were created by the same master. The intricate details of each Kota were the sculptor’s intent to individualise and differentiate, and as the hypothesis goes – a Kota is not a representation of an ancestor, but rather one of a spirit! Therefore, no two Kota could serve the same spirit. The guardian figures were attached to a basket holding the reliquaries so the aesthetic appeal was secondary to the object’s functional, spiritual power.
But what fascinates me the most is that artists without any outside influences were able to create such pieces. Gabon was isolated for a long period of time due to the density of its forests and swamps, so its artists couldn’t have been influenced by anything in Europe. I see a certain mysticism to this. My mother once said that Kota reliquary figures from central Africa occupy 'the very summit of African creativity'. The Spanish painter Juan Gris, who struggled financially, created his own Kota [out of cardboard cut-outs] because he couldn’t afford an original one. Gris never hung his own canvases on the walls of his house; the only art object was his homemade Kota.
"My mother once said that Kota reliquary figures from central Africa occupy 'the very summit of African creativity'."
Do you usually accompany your mother to art fairs?
I’ve been by her side at most art events – Tefaf in Maastricht, Brafa in Brussels and Art Basel – and the people that she has encountered have become like family. One of my favourite events is Parcours du Monde – almost every gallery in St-Germain-des-Prés hosts an exhibition opening and it just becomes gallery-hopping, talking and drinking with friends. At Galerie Bernard Dulon there’s always a piece that moves me, whether it’s a perfectly refined Dan mask, a shield or an exceptional Fang work. Meanwhile Lucas Ratton always has interesting set-ups juxtaposing African art pieces with phenomenal works of design.
How has living with African arts affected your understanding of the history of art?
Living with and learning from these pieces has made me more familiar with the cause and effect of history. I remember reading in one of the books about Picasso how he’d exclaimed 'Negro Art? Never heard of it!’, despite having a Punu mask in his studio. So much of the Modern art scene was influenced by African art. Max Jacob wrote in his memoirs that he, André Salmon, Guillaume Apollinaire and Picasso went out for dinner and Matisse brought along a black wooden African figure that he showed to Picasso. Apparently, it was the first African sculpture Picasso held in his hands and he wouldn’t let go of it all evening. Jacob recalled visiting Picasso’s studio the next day and seeing drawings of the geometrical shapes and lines of the figure scattered around. Jacob proclaimed that this was the day Cubism was born, which I find immensely inspiring.
Among the pieces offered in the Sotheby’s sale, which ones have caught your attention?
The piece that has really caught my attention is the magnificent Punu ikwara mask There’s a very strong energy emitting from it that I felt when entering the room. Among the myriad of white Punu masks that were worn during daytime performances, the blackened ones are a great rarity. Known as 'the mask of the night' they were worn during nocturnal processions in south-central Gabon with the purpose of resolving tribal disputes. These performances were attended by an exclusive audience limited to elders and parties involved in a conflict, so the masks were shrouded in secrecy.
I also like the Lega mask from the Democratic Republic of Congo, because the shape of the horns is artistically inspiring; the Djennenké bronze pendant from Mali, which is well preserved and beautifully shaped with the hands covering the eyes, and the Senufo kneeling figure from Ivory Coast. I’ve never seen a kneeling figure like this so the unfamiliar shape interests me.
How would you envision living with African arts and juxtaposing them with contemporary art and design in your own home?
I really love the juxtaposition of African art with modernist painting. Just imagine a Modigliani face next to an elongated, heart-shaped Ngil mask worn by the Fang society in Gabon. Or tribal art pieces on a Charlotte Perriand bookcase with a painting by Anish Kapoor, Pierre Soulages or Matisse on the wall behind.
How do you think the perception of African arts needs to evolve?
Even though the African arts market has been booming for several years, some people are still prejudiced towards this very special, emotionally charged art form. I’ve met a lot of people who have raised questions about the techniques involved but to me that’s like arguing between an Old Master painting and Malevich's Black Square. As people become more accustomed to seeing African arts mixed up with contemporary art in the big auction houses, they should start to feel more comfortable. And as they gain wider access to information, I hope they’ll appreciate African arts more.
If you had an imaginary museum of African arts, what would be some of your dream pieces?
Definitely Mahongwe and Shamaye reliquary figures. The Mahongwe tribe was the only one which covered the entire figure with metal and wire on the back while the Shamaye tribe made figures with almond-shaped faces decorated with horizontal strips.
Other dream pieces would be a Janus reliquary figure by the Kota people. The Janus type represents a gender complementary – a concave female face associated with a convex male one, a single spirit with two possible faces. And a work by Semangoy, a 19th century artist from Gabon. His reliquary figures are marked by a half-moon symbol at the centre of the crescent, equivalent to a modern-day signature. He’s the only African artist known to have signed his work in this way. Therefore, a piece by him is a must-have.
My last dream piece would be the Great Bieri – a reliquary by a subgroup of the Fang society. This particular Fang head inspired the Chilean poet Vicente Huidobro, a friend of Picasso, as well as Juan Gris and Francis Picabia.
