A few weeks ago I had an absolute treat of a day and got to spend the afternoon walking the floors of the Tate Modern. A ‘few’ years ago, I went to University in Central London. We were given Wednesday afternoons off for sport and yeah I wasn’t into fitness then like I am now. I would regularly spend these afternoons walking around the Tate Modern. It was a perfect time slot as it was never as busy as a weekend. It’s safe to say during my spin cycle (the last six years where I got married and then had two babies) I think l’ve been back once. So going back there last month felt like returning home, to the ‘original’ me, just now I’m an upgraded version.

I decided that I would re-acquaint myself with the Collection. I had learned there was a space on colour in the Collection, which (obviously) excited me – and I’ll write more about that in the coming weeks – but imagine my joy when I rounded a corner and saw this.

British Library by Yinka Sonibare CBE at Tate Modern, London.
May 2021.

Be still my beating heart

Whew, is the only way to describe how I felt walking into that room. I think I’d read somewhere that Yinka Sonibare had some work on at the Tate London, but nothing could have prepared me for the impact this piece of work had on me. It was all the clashing colours and all the variation of print on such a scale that made it feel harmonious. It felt like one of my favourite things, a piece of me, was on display…beautifully and in all it’s glory. I didn’t want to leave the room, in fact I just wanted the room in my home.

When I read about the work, I loved it more.

Printed in gold on the spines of 2,700 of the books are the names of first or second-generation immigrants to Britain. Whether celebrated or lesser known, they have all made significant contributions to both British culture and history. There are also books with the names of those who have opposed immigration. Other books are unmarked, suggesting that the story of immigration in Britain is still being written.
Tate Modern, London

Close up shots of some of the books. You can see some of the names on the spines in gold.

Who is Yinka Sonibare CBE?

I first encountered Yinka Sonibare when I was in university. I went to a talk by him somewhere, I think it was one of the galleries – I can’t even remember which one now. However, I can remember being blown away that he even existed. That there was this Nigerian man that was so respected within the art world, both in Britain and beyond.

Yinka Sonibare was born, studied and lives in London, but grew up in Lagos, Nigeria. He was awarded the CBE in 2019. I love his work because he is a British-Nigerian – as am I, and this identity has been the starting point for much of his work. In the British Library you’ll see the books are bound in Dutch wax print. This is Sonibare’s signature material and the same material that inspires a lot of my print work with Mummy’s Muse. The history of this fabric, which I will write more about soon, reveals a deeply complex relationship colonialism, cultural appropriation and national identity. It always leads me to ask, ‘Who’s prints are these anyway?’ but I’ll save that for another day.

Here’s a recent interview with the artist himself in the Guardian .

“I’m not sure why I love it, but I do.”

These were the words of the woman who walked into the room housing the British Library behind me. I chuckled to myself because I got it. No iPhone images or description will allow you to truly feel the impact of this piece of work. If you’re in London and you can get down to the Tate Modern, I highly recommend you go and check it out. It’s truly a joy producing piece of work.

You can read more about the piece at this dedicated micro site.