In the words of Luc Heusch, “For the fi rst
time in the history of the major exhibitions
of African art, an original solution was adopted.”
8 The museum invited ten Belgian and
international experts to join the six members
of the museum’s own committee to make the
fi nal choices.9 The results of their individual
selections were run through a computer that
calculated the 250 pieces that had received the
most votes.
Surprisingly, only three works were unanimously
picked. One of them was obviously
the large Luba mask that had become the museum’s
emblem (fi g. 2). Another of these three
objects, a large Yaka mask (kakuungu or more
likely kazeba) was the most surprising choice
(fi g. 4).
I remember that during the many guided
tours I gave of the exhibition, this Yaka mask
was also the one that was almost unanimously
rejected by the general public. Most visitors
who were not acquainted with African art
found it ugly, frightening, and even disturbing
and could not understand how it could have
been selected for display in an exhibition focused
on aesthetics. Apparently the ways a
work is perceived sometimes go down convoluted
and unexpected paths. This sublime
mask is unquestionably a masterpiece and, in
fact, when visitors are frightened by it, they actually
are reacting exactly as the mask’s sculptor
intended the young novices to feel when
the terrifying kakuungu made its appearance
in the enclosure where they were about to be
circumcised.10
Epilog
For those of us11 who were involved in nearly
every phase of the selection process, it was immediately
apparent that the fi nal cut was composed
of nearly all of the works that had been
initially chosen by De Vries. Those who wrote
the catalog’s colophon, the acknowledgments,
and the preface showed a real lack of gratitude
to him by giving him credit only for having had
the initial idea for the exhibition. I’m happy
to have the opportunity here to set the record
straight.
Ultimately, this was a story of academics and
excellent researchers, among them some undeniable
experts, who sincerely believed that a
non-academic, working with the help of novice
curators (us), would not be capable of making
this selection.12 But by gentrifying this process,
that is to say, by taking academic control and
preventing the artist from exercising his discernment
freely, these experts risked preventing
the parameters that underlay this selection
from unfolding. And those parameters can be
summed up simply as “art through the eyes of
an artist.”
A similar concept pertains to another exhibition
titled Le sensible et la force (Sensitivity
and Power) that was produced at Tervuren
in 2004. In this case, artistic visual acuity was
coupled with the vision of a photographer in
Hughes Dubois. No expert interfered with the
decisions he made or imposed the selection of
other objects upon him. With hindsight now,
after some years have passed, I can compare
the selection that De Vries made in 1993 with
that made by Dubois in 2004. Their views
FIG. 7 (PAGE DE
GAUCHE) : S tatuette ka visese.
O vimb undu, Angola.
H. : 37 cm.
Ancienne collection des MRAH.
Collectée par R. V erly dans les
années 194 0. I nscrite en 1967
dans les collections du MRAC,
EO.1967.6 3.629. © MRAC, ph oto :
S tudio Asselb ergh s.
FIG. 7 (LEFT):
Standing ¿ gure, ka visese.
O vimb undu, Angola.
H: 37 cm.
Collected b y R. V erly in th e
194 0s.
E x MRAH collection.
Accessioned by th e
RMCA in 1967,
EO.1967.6 3.629. © RMCA,
ph oto: Asselb ergh s S tudio.
tion12. Mais en « gentrifi ant » ce processus, en prenant
scientifi quement le pouvoir et en empêchant
un artiste d’exercer en toute liberté son regard, ces
scientifi ques avaient pris le risque d’empêcher que
la logique même de cette sélection ne soit menée
jusqu’à son terme, une logique que l’on pourrait
résumer assez simplement par « l’art sous l’oeil de
l’artiste ».
Un concept qui se rapproche d’ailleurs d’une
autre exposition organisée en 2004 à Tervuren,
La Force et le Sensible. Ici l’acuité du regard de
l’artiste sélectionneur se doubla de celle du photographe,
réunis en un seul homme, Hughes Dubois ;
mais il ne vint à aucun scientifi que l’idée d’entraver
la sélection qu’il fi t, ni de lui imposer d’autres objets.
Et avec le recul des années, j’ai envie de mettre
sur le même pied la sélection qu’effectua le peintre
Louis De Vries en 1993 et celle du photographe
Hughes Dubois en 2004.
Leurs regards auraient d’ailleurs pu se croiser
lorsqu’ils ont tous deux sélectionné cette statue
songye au long cou orné de colliers (fi g. 3).
Il reste que lors de la sélection ultime des deux
cent cinquante trésors, l’ironie voulut que, plébiscité
par dix-sept personnes aux visions pourtant bien
33