Aboubakar Fofana, a master dyer and global voice in indigo traditions and sustainability, was introduced to indigo as a medicine, not as a natural dye. “It was circumstances that led me to indigo and it was much later during my process that I found out that it was the same plant,” reflected Fofana as we walked towards his artworks displayed along with a bunch of artists from across the world who are masters in the art, as part of the exhibition titled Blue Futures, at the Hampi Art Labs in Karnataka.
Born in Mali, over six-feet tall, he wears the stains of blue on his fingers and a bandana in the same shade as an extended identity. The West African indigo artist who grew up in France traced his roots and hence rediscovered his relationship with the plant. The exposure to two cultures led Fofana to redefine West African indigo dyeing techniques while remaining devoted to the preservation and reinterpretation of traditional textiles and natural dyeing techniques and materials of his homeland.
A tete-a-tete with Fofana, who appreciates the evolving indigo practice in India and tells us why India is his preferred destination to connect with passionate practitioners.
With over four decades of experience and having showcased your works across the world, you have a very strong relationship with indigo. India, too, is known for its way with the blue gold. What is your overview of the art practice in India?
I have been coming to India for a long time now, and in fact was also in Calcutta in 2018. It’s a communal thing with Africa. And both Mali or Africa and India have millennia of practice of indigo. So, for me, it’s obvious that this is also the place where I have the interest and desire to interact with passionate individuals. India has been a must-go destination for me because of my practice and my passion for indigo and my interest in textiles.
Indigo connects us with a common history — a commodity of profit used by the colonisers, an element of oppression. Tell us about your evolved relationship with indigo and how you now use the tool as a medium of expression.
My relationship with indigo is a dynamic one. Indigo is not only a colour for me but much more than that. I was introduced to indigo as a plant used for its therapeutic properties. It’s used in my tradition as an antiseptic and anti-inflammatory herb by my grandfather, who was a herbalist, a healer. I remember when I was young, we were commissioned to go into the bush to collect indigo leaves. Also, there is a spiritual aspect linked to indigo. It’s a colour of protection. It’s a link between humans and the divine, because it’s a celestial colour. We welcome newborn babies in indigo dyed fabric, we do weddings in indigo dyed fabric, and when we die, our body is wrapped in indigo dyed fabric. It’s supposed to help the dead go to the other world. So, indigo is more than just a pigment for me.
Coming to the colonial history that we both share, indigo was one of the main cash crops, especially in the 18th century. West Africans have been enslaved in the United States to grow indigo and process it. So, it has been used by the colonists to fuel their economy. India suffered too, and it reminds me of the Bengal Uprising when the colonial rulers, the English, collected all the land to cultivate indigo, and the locals did not have any more land to grow their food, their crop. So through my techniques, I’m using indigo, once a tool of oppression, to show how we can find healing in our modern society.
You moved from Africa to Paris. How did this European country shape your craft?
It did not shape my craft. Let me explain. I grew up in France, and hence I can say that I’m French as well, but my craft is mostly from West Africa. Europeans have another species of indigo-bearing plant called Isatis tinctoria or woad, which is very poor in indigo tint content. And that’s why when the indigo coming from India came to Europe, they banned it, and called it the colour of evil, because Indian indigo was very saturated and highly tinted. They accepted Indian indigo later.
The Japanese practitioners at Blue Futures Indigo are showcasing 100 shades here, and I believe you like the darker shades more.
Yes, it’s a beautiful story, but according to me, there are no 100 shades of indigo. In my tradition, there are 12 shades. To become an accomplished indigo dyer, you have to master those 12 shades. And we say there are four for the past, four for the present, and four for the future. And each of them has a specific name; each of them has a specific emotion, depending on who feels it or sees it. Also, I dress in different shades in different seasons. When it’s very cold, I would wear a darker shade, while when it’s spring and summer, I like the very light pale. Although I like all the shades, I am more drawn to the richness of indigo. And that’s something that took me several decades to be able to understand and to achieve.
Tell us about your exhibits, the diptych on Curcuilingo Villosa fibre and the triptychs.
Fibre and dyes work like a duality; like earth and sky or life and death. There are so many fibres out there, and I’m always interested in sourcing different fibres for my work and experimenting with indigo. This triptych is one kind of Raffia from the palm leaves. The interaction of indigo is very interesting in different situations and materials beyond silk, wool, linen and cotton.
The possibilities with indigo seem to be limitless. How are you pushing the envelope, and what are your future endeavours like?
For me, it’s endless. Even after it innovates, you will always have a place for more innovation to bring this contemporary language into practice. So, I think humans have a bright mind, and the future of indigo is bright because there is always a place for innovation. There are also environmental issues pertaining to the cultivation of indigo, and that’s why I decided to farm and grow my own colours. Also, for me, indigo is a worship of nature and a worship of ancestors.
I’m not an activist, but there is so much to talk about indigo through this medium. We are running this revolution to get rid of the colonial rulers. We have been talking about African enslavement and colonialism, and neocolonialism is still going on now, and we artists need to voice it through our artworks. Also, we do know that global warming is a reality and it’s very important for me to promote the fact that nature should be preserved and we are a very tiny part of this macrocosm.
Pictures courtesy: Hampi Art Labs