Power in Portraits
Volume I. Postcolonialism 101
The first portrait series, titled Postcolonialism 101, is centred on issues of representation stemming from a history of colonialism and empire. The portraits explore the pervasive and ongoing impact of colonialism and invite us to reconsider our understanding of universals and dichotomies rooted in colonial history. Each portrait is accompanied by a brief lesson that addresses the core tenets of postcolonial theory and invites us to reconsider our understanding of universals and dichotomies rooted in colonial history. In doing so, we can move beyond the trap of paradigmatic contest to decolonize our understanding of the past, present, and future and become the authors of our own stories.
THE GAZE
It begins with 'the gaze', and the stance from which we observe the world. In the social sciences, ‘the gaze’ refers to the power differentials between the observer and the observed. Foucault (1977) developed the concept of the ‘gaze’ to demonstrate the social dynamics of power and societal mechanisms of (self) discipline. To 'gaze' entails more than simply to look, as it signifies a relationship of power in which ‘the gazer is superior to the object of the gaze’ (Schroeder, 1998).
Therefore, when discussing ‘the gaze,’ we are, in fact, engaging with issues of representation, identity, and voice. Who gets to represent whom? And how? In the act of observing others and creating representations of them, we must question our stance, biases, and subjective views. The chief aim of postcolonial studies is to examine how colonial and postcolonial people were denied the possibility and power to represent themselves. This provides a corrective mainstream to the oversights and misrepresentations of history. Postcolonial studies is a lens through which we learn to challenge these hegemonic narratives.
This portrait is evocative of wildlife photography that captures animals in their natural habitat and traditionally puts the viewer in the position of power as the observer. However, in this instance, the subject gazes back at the viewer with distinctly human eyes, forcing us to reconsider who is gazing upon whom. By simultaneously putting the viewer in the position of observer and observed, the portrait challenges the subjective gaze we cast on the world.
THE OTHER GAZE I & II
Colonialism is predicated on the creation of the ‘other’ – colonised people that were vilified, maligned, and misrepresented in order to enable the creation of a colonial identity as the powerful and knowledgeable subjugator. In contrast, colonised peoples were cast as objects of contemplation to be gazed upon, studied, and, ultimately, conquered. During colonial times, portraits of colonised people were used as a tool of domination and control. Colonised men and women were photographed, labelled, and categorised in a dehumanising manner akin to the treatment of local flora and fauna. The portraits were often accompanied with descriptions documenting physical attributes, tribal affiliations, and ethnic denominations. These portraits fulfilled the chief aim of colonialism - mastery over ‘nature, including the human body, and mastery of what can be called social behaviour’ as part of the 'civilising' mission of colonialism (Conklin, 1997).
In this dual portrait, the ‘other’ both returns and evades the gaze of the observer. The portrait in which the female subject returns the gaze defies existing power differentials in which the object of observation is gazing right back at the viewer. This reverses the trend of casting the ‘other,’ particularly women, as objects of contemplation - scrutinised, studied and ultimately acted upon. The portrait uses the motif of the ‘evil eye,’ an element of folklore in many cultures across the Mediterranean, Middle East, and Africa, used to ward off or repel the unwanted gaze. The male portrait demonstrates the averted gaze, a common element of colonial portraits, deemed less threatening and revealing the colonial goal of subjugation. The portraits evoke the longstanding historical notion that only ‘white’, ‘western’ males can cast a voyeuristic gaze on marginalised peoples. Contrary to colonial portraiture, the faces and identities of the subjects are obscured, denying us the possibility of gazing upon them.
ORIENTALISM
‘Orientalism’ is a concept detailing how ‘the west’ (European colonial empires and neo-colonial American empire) falsely represents ‘the orient’ (North Africa, Middle East, and Asia) by creating a depiction of the latter based on a Eurocentric view of the world. Coined by Edward Said (1978), the term explains how 'the west' empowers itself based on oppositional terms by subjugating the histories, cultures, and identities of the so-called ‘orient.’
This portrait titled 'Orientalism' reflects a metonymic construct of ‘the orient’ that has historically been (mis)represented in art and literature as feminised, exotic, and mysterious. The design featured in this portrait is the Moucharabieh – a pattern in Islamic architecture used for privacy screens that permit a view from the inside out but not the outside in. The motif of veiling/unveiling, with one shoulder covered and the other exposed, speaks to the essentialization of the oriental woman and the fetishization of ‘other’ cultures. The subject is unveiled and exposed, subjugated to the western gaze, the male gaze, the othering gaze. Her unveiling, however, does not entail her subjugation but rather the opposite. Fanon, a key postcolonial theorist, discusses the veil as a symbol of power during the Algerian struggle against French colonialism. She ‘who hides behind a veil’ denies the west the opportunity to gaze upon her and gain power over her (Fanon, 1961). Even despite her unveiling, her ‘otherness’ remains etched on her skin and is never truly grasped by or subdued to a western understanding of her culture.
THE BIRTH OF MODERNISATION
Our understanding of modernisation is firmly rooted in a Eurocentric vision of the world. Modernity is a concept presumed to have universal validity, but is, in fact, a vernacular originating from a specific history (Chakrabarty, 2002). This ‘privileged geopolitical identification’ between modernity and ‘the west’ was circulated through the mechanism of colonialism and established a hegemonic western narrative of modernity (Harootunian, 2000). Rostow (1960), an influential American economist, outlines a blueprint that defines modernisation as a spectrum with traditional societies passing through five stages of growth in order to become ‘modern.’ The implicit Eurocentricity of this model suggests that to be modern is to be western(ised) and to forgo culture and tradition
Through the medium of textiles, the portrait challenges our linear understanding of modernisation. On one end, the subject dons a traditional fabric known as ‘Johara,’ a North African handmade textile with a culturally specific design. The other end of the spectrum presents a subject in denim – a highly coveted article of mass production/consumption and an emblem of Americana. Presented as a spectrum, with a ‘traditional’ subject on one end and a ‘modern’ one on the other, the portrait subverts our singular understanding of modernisation by demonstrating modernity and tradition as embodied within the same subject but disembodied in our understanding.
Notes:
Americana – practices or things characteristic of American culture
Rostow's five stages of economic growth – 1. Traditional Society; 2. Preconditions for Take-Off; 3. Take-Off; 4. Drive to Maturity; and 5. Age of High Mass Consumption
THE LIFE AND DEATH OF DEVELOPMENT
In his post-war inaugural speech in 1949, U.S. President Truman stated that ‘rich’ countries were responsible for developing ‘poor’ countries in their image. This set the stage for institutionalised international development in the form of aid, development banks, and foreign involvement in the economic, social, and political structures of newly independent nations. Development discourse instilled a belief within these ‘poor’ nations that their cultures, institutions, and mental models were flawed and inadequate, simply because they didn’t fit within a western definition of ‘developed’.
International development policy was meant to unlock a 'kingdom of abundance', but by the 1980s, it had failed in its promise and contributed instead to massive impoverishment, exploitation, and inequality (Escobar, 1995). Development, in its western guise, served to 'keep the poor world poor' and was denounced as inherently ethnocentric and elitist (Potter, 2004). Newly independent nations shifted from a position not so much of ‘independence' as of being ‘in-dependence' (Young, 2003). Through development discourse, former colonial powers used their vast resources to condemn young nations to stagnation as the latter were forced to the bottom of a global hierarchy.
The portrait uses the imagery of gold to signal the promised prosperity and wealth of development while also speaking to its symbolic death as a panacea for the problems plaguing newly independent nations. Development discourse, seemingly beneficial on the surface with its promise of riches, was merely a mask for a ‘second colonial occupation’ of postcolonial countries (Lonsdale & Low, 1976). In the process of ‘developing’ poorer countries, rich countries were locking them in positions of powerlessness and structural dependence.
THE SUBALTERN
The othering narrative of colonialism, development, and modernisation was disempowering in its misrepresentation, but can actually become a powerful position from which to give voice to the subaltern. The subaltern, or ‘undercommons,’ are black, indigenous, queer, poor, feminist, ‘other’ voices who speak up against a global system that denies ‘a) that anything was ever broken and b) that we [the subaltern] deserved to be the broken part’ (Harney & Moten, 2013). Subaltern studies give voice to those who are denied the agency and power to speak back to hegemonic narratives of development, modernisation, and orientalism. This provides a corrective mainstream for the lacunas, imbalances, and misrepresentations of history. The subaltern endeavours to rewrite history ‘as the history of our society in all its fullness,’ and provides an understanding of the world from a different viewpoint - that of the subaltern (Bayart, 1989).
The monochromatic theme of the portrait reflects the Manichean view of the world in which the ‘global south,’ Third World, postcolonial people are pitted against the empire, ‘global north,’ First World. The darkness of the portrait juxtaposed with the vibrant yellow represents a hopeful agenda for the subaltern in the unrelenting work of finding our voice. The flowers suggest that subaltern studies are a fertile breeding ground for the emergence of new points of view and revised histories. The identity of the subject is completely obscured because the subaltern is still flourishing as we find ways to recapture representations of ourselves, our struggles, and our histories. Today, the subaltern finds its voice in Critical Race Theory and similar disciplines that dismantle and unlearn hegemonic discourses in order to insert ourselves back into our own histories and futures.
MISNOMERS
Language matters. Decolonizing our identities means understanding the weight of words and the stigma of labels. The new terminology of ‘development’ meant that over two billion inhabitants of the world found themselves 'changing their name, being officially regarded as they appeared in the eyes of others’ – underdeveloped, and called upon to ‘deepen their Westernisation by repudiating their own values’ (Rist, 2002). 'Third World' is another term emerging from the Cold War era denoting a ‘tripartite division’ of the world as two major ideological models of modernity emerged (ie. First World- Capitalism and Second World - Socialism/Communism). The Third ‘nonaligned' world originated as an ‘empowering alternative’ (Flusty, 2003). The term, however, is used pejoratively to denote a point of difference or perceived failure in a country's development. ‘Global south’ has replaced ‘Third World’ as a term referencing all of Africa, Central and Latin America, the Caribbean, and most of Asia. This, however, is a misnomer, acting as a shorthand reference for all non-European, postcolonial peoples. It creates an artificial dichotomy between ‘north’ and ‘south’ and deepens the schism between the apparent ‘winners’ and ‘losers’ of global capitalism.
This portrait uses jarring imagery to call attention to the importance and consequences of language. The mouth of the subject is covered to signal that we should question the terms and labels affixed to our identities. Double exposure photography hints at the multiplicity of meanings for the terms and jargon we use to refer to ourselves, our cultures, and histories. Taking a closer look at language and labels forces us to interrogate and challenge the inherent coloniality of terms such as ‘underdeveloped’ and ‘southern' since they are all created in contention with an implied yet silent referent - 'the west.'
Volume 2.Afritopia
Hanchard (1999) defines Afro-modernity as the ‘selective incorporation of technologies, discourses, and institutions of the modern West within cultural and political practices of African-derived people.’ This portrait series explores Afro-modernity by combining vernacular elements of pop art, steampunk, and globalised symbols of modernity with referents of African cultures and traditions. Somewhere between photograph and simulated image, these portraits toe the line between utopian and dystopian imaginings of Afro-centric futures.
Vol. 3 Guises
Guises delves into the subtle erasure of colonial histories and their enduring influence on the present. Through the use of masks, this series explores how colonialism persists in various forms, often obscured or denied in everyday narratives.
Guises invites viewers to confront the ways colonial ideologies continue to shape perceptions and priorities while being expunged from mainstream understanding. The mask with letters represents the systematic marginalization of Indigenous languages, reflecting the erasure of cultural knowledge under colonial hierarchies. Another mask, made of bandaids, critiques the disproportionate focus on health in studies of African countries—an echo of colonial frameworks designed to define and control.
Vol 4. Aicha Kandisha
Aicha Kandisha is often framed as a terrifying jinn—a spirit lurking in the shadows, seducing and destroying those who cross her path. But beneath the colonial-era fearmongering and folkloric distortion lies the story of a resistance figure, a woman whose legend refuses to be erased.
In Moroccan oral history, Aicha Kandisha is said to have lured and killed colonial officers and foreign occupiers, using her allure as a weapon against those who sought to dominate the land. Like many historical figures who posed a threat to colonial rule, her story was twisted into something monstrous - the femme fatale, the supernatural seductress, the demonized woman. These are familiar tropes used to discredit and neutralize powerful female figures throughout history.
This portrait presents Aicha Kandisha as an anti-colonial heroine. She emerges as a spirit of defiance, her presence a reminder that colonial power was never uncontested. She exists in the space between history and myth, embodying the resistance that lives on through storytelling, memory, and the refusal to disappear.
