Eyin'juOdu

In the beginning of the nineties, when a group of young – perhaps fresh from school -- fine artists stepped out to the public in an exhibition titled Young Masters, they created more than a stir. They unsettled some seated posturing. Audaciously, they not only proclaimed that they were poised to offer fresh coating to the features of the gallery, which as co-notated in the subtext of their show, had grown stale; they also conferred status of ‘master on themselves’. Of course, they did not get away so easily with the audacity; they were named, labeled and critically pummeled, even as it was clear that since many of them were fresh from art school, they were driven in this mission, by the exuberant resourcefulness, enterprise and energy conventional to their age; and were merely responding to the dynamics of shifting paradigm in global art discourse at the time – this era was in the throe of post modernism debate, remember. The ‘freshers’ as they were described in one particular critiq

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The last time Joe Adekwagh was here.. on stage PHOTO: Courtesy Shaibu Husseini

Joe Adekwagh steps on Death, yesterday Thursday October 25, snatched one of our valuable staff and prolific artiste Joseph Terhemba Adekwagh. Adekwagh slumped while serving as masters of ceremonies at the 40th year on stage event of the veteran actor, poet and essayist Lari Williams. The actor of immense credit and show host died after attempt to revive him at a clinic in Surulere, where he was rushed to after he slumped failed. The Lari Williams event held at the Cinema Hall 1 of the National Theatre. Aged 44 having been born on February 18, 1963, Adekwagh is a native of Konshisha Local Government of Benue State. He was recruited in September 1989 as an artiste to form the nucleus of the then Hubert Ogunde led National Troupe of Nigeria. He continued as an artiste until in 1999 when his contract with the National Troupe lapsed. In 2001, Adekwagh was formally employed into the National Troupe this time as a tenure staff. He was designated Assistant Stage Manager but he was always avai

As the notable Nigerian band of young dance artists, IJO DEE flags off the second edition of its yearly festival of African dances this weekend, I recall a grand exploit that launched the troupe of youngsters on the world stage. (Stories were first published in 2003) IJODEE, NIGERIAN TROUPE, WOWS THEM AT INTERNATIONAL DANCE MEETS Mihari, the pretty hostess attached to the Nigerian troupe at the on-going Sanga 3, the international festival of choreography and dance, holding in Madagascar, waved excitedly at Dayo and said "no kain". She followed it up with a generous smile, which no doubt suggested she was happy with herself She has caught the bug just like all the rest of her fellow Malagasy and participants at the festival who have since adopted the seven-man Nigerian troupe as some kind of folk heroes. Here in Antananarivo, the Madagascar capital where the festival --the fifth edition of the African and Indian Ocean Choreography Platform -- is

(Text of an e-chat with TRUE LOVE magazine (July Edition) on one of my least favoured subjects, Religion.) To which spiritual denomination do you belong? I have sympathy for all religions but I prefer my neutrality. This means I could participate in rituals and ceremonies of all 'spiritual denominations' so far it is all about advancing the good cause of humanity. In essence, I worship God/Allah/Olodumare or whatever name is given to the Supreme Being - the creator/ owner of the heaven and the earth and all the components therein. How do you nurture your spirit? By being very human; loving others as I love myself; cherishing others the way I cherish myself; working for the good of all creations of the Supreme Being. I believe that by loving and appreciating other human beings, I am loving and cherishing the Supreme Being. What inspired you to becoming a journalist? I say always that I am a Culture Communicator and not a Journalist in the way it's usually or tradition

You want to be what? A critic…? (Being an extended version of a ‘mentoring letter’ that I was asked by me friend Ita for her magazine, Muse’) Dear Comrade-to-be, Shall I humour you with a lie? I was really silently bemused albeit rankled by your expressed desire to work as an art critic after your graduation. If you had observed closely, there was this bold improbability sitting at the corner of my mouth in response to your statement. Oh, you saw it? You thought it was a sign of approval? Wrong, friend! And there goes your first lesson in arts criticisms… always seek the inner (hideous, if you like) meanings of statements and actions; except if such was made by an angel! Left to me anyway, even the angel should be probed further. … Well as I was saying; being an arts writer (or arts critic as you have called it) is like signing a pact with poverty… please, do not be scared. All I mean is: it is pretty difficult to get a job anywhere to operate optimally, efficacious or even p

captions: 1. Renate with jahman at one of the events at Goethe. There ws always plenty to eat and drink, and lots of cookies to take home after the event. 2. Yemoja.. the play on tor whe i learnt of Renate's death in 2001. Ogun is second from right 3. Renate, Bisade Ologunde (producer of Lagbaja) and jahman 1n 1992... shortly after Ologunde jammed with a visiting jazz band RE-NA-TE: The one that drew my tears I was on a performance tour of Mexico, where the National Troupe was representing Africa at the Cervantino Festival of World Theatre when the news stole in on me and upstaged my joy. ‘Renate is dead!’ It came like the evil wind. It swept me to nothingness. A momentary trip to blandness. In a sense it was my own ceasing of being; even if momentarily. My head was heavy. My feet will not shift. I was rooted, yet there was a sudden rush of motion in my soul. It was watery; bloodily watery threatening to burst me open… I let out… screeeeeeeeaaaam! Then sank into the seat, sen