Joël Andrianomearisoa

Each strip of denim is layered neatly on top of each other to create a deliberate stack – like a pile of jeans in a store comprising of the same wash, cut, and size, organized painstakingly by a store clerk. In paring down the structures ubiquitous to exhibiting art, and eschewing the use of frames, Andrianomearisoa’s pieces build relationships solely with the nail – hidden under the fold of the fabric – on which they are hung. It allows him to direct our attention on the layers of fabric, the unique textures and shades created by different washes and different amounts of wear from the jeans he used, and the framework of the weave in each piece of denim. From a distance, the way in which the denim is hung on the nail also reminds us of certain African masks – particularly those with long hair-like extensions, as seen on Ote Iri masks used in the Okwanko masquerade of the Akanu Ohafia Igbo people in Nigeria.

In a way, Andrianomearisoa is playing, here, with our pre-conceived notions of
“Africa”: when we think “Africa”, we immediately picture masks, superstitions, and
rituals. But he then takes our stereotypes, and playfully challenges us to rethink the
“Africa” in our image repertoires, using the concept of masks, masking, and masquerades. Here, the instrument used in masking the self – the tool essential to transforming and transporting oneself – is the denim jean.