When you hear the phrase “African design,” what comes to your mind? Is it a large tribal mask made of mahogany, adorned with seashells? Is it a polished statue of a warrior bearing intricate markings on their skin? Or perhaps you imagine low, single-story homes made of thick layers of clay and mud with thatched roofs.
These examples are foundational, but design on the continent is not frozen in time as some might believe, according to designer Nifemi Marcus-Bello. You can see it in the modern skyscrapers and apartments that shape its cities and in Marcus-Bello’s own work, such as the LM chair – a quiet modern piece designed in collaboration with local manufacturers in his hometown of Lagos, Nigeria.
In fact, he says that the concept of African design in the world needs to expand to include the most essential everyday items on the continent – those that have become indispensable. “Often, when design is open-source and cannot be traced back to a particular individual or organization, it is considered to be something that just exists,” Marcus-Bello explains. “But there has to be someone who designed it. There has to be a community that designed it. Because of this lack of documentation, it is always difficult to trace who the true authors are of particular designs or ideas or even techniques.”
Prominent Project for Research and Documentation
Marcus-Bello and his team at studio nmbello have spent the last few years creating a documentary record of this design with their project “Africa: The Designer’s Utopia.” The three-person team is developing an open-source archive of contemporary African design on Dropbox – starting in Lagos, but with plans to expand across the continent through collaborations with photographers, videographers, artisans, and everyday people who make these products.
“Every major city in Africa is unique, from lifestyle to availability of materials, so things differ,” Marcus-Bello explains. “It’s important to document not just the different objects but also those that share functionality and character, with the idea of stimulating cross-continental discussion about design on the continent.”
Interesting Designs
One interesting design is “Kwally,” a type of portable vending machine for candy and snacks for people stuck in Lagos’s heavy traffic. Made from polystyrene, duct tape, and cardboard, it’s not typical to see Kwally as a great design worth documenting, but the context surrounding its creation is what makes it distinctly African.
Identifying and documenting contemporary African design is a monumental task, which has shown that the team would need a technological solution that relies on collaboration, organization, communication, access, and security – something that regular WhatsApp chats they typically use cannot provide.
“Before the idea of using Dropbox, I was actually slightly apprehensive and skeptical,” he says now. “Without it, this research couldn’t exist.”
So far, three designs have been documented in the project. Marcus-Bello is preparing to share them at the Sharjah Architecture Triennial, an event that fosters discussions about design in the “global south” through exhibitions, research, and sessions, in November in the United Arab Emirates. The award-winning designer spoke with Dropbox about how the archive was created, the language of design, and the cross-continental approach.
What do you mean by “contemporary African design”?
You mentioned earlier that you want to “understand what design in Africa means in a contemporary way.” What do you mean by that?
The idea of “Africa: The Designer’s Utopia” was born from conversations with friends abroad who were saying, “It’s unfortunate that contemporary design doesn’t exist on the continent. So how will you practice?”
I was a bit angry. But then I realized, you know? Maybe I should open a third eye and understand what design means here. I think the Western world has separated the practice of art from design, but the beauty of African creativity and African design is that they have always been one.
I went…
to the university in Leeds, Northern England, and the hymn there was the 10 Principles of Design by [German industrial designer] Dieter Rams. So what I did was take those principles and put them alongside the object. Once I looked at both the principle and the object side by side, I said, “Oh my God, this falls under every theoretical category of what good design should be, even though it doesn’t have a design label.”
Rams [also believed] that design should always be in the background, very subdued. But for us on the continent, design has always been in your face and very annoying. It’s everywhere. Like a chair can be very functional, but it has embellishments at the bottom that speak to an artistic approach. The same goes for architecture. So for me, the beauty of African design is the context in which it is practiced. Design in Lagos is different from design in Accra – it depends on availability and the ability to exploit resources.
I realized that if we didn’t start documenting our history, someone else would do it and then impose on us what we should see as African design. From there, we began capturing images… of some things in Lagos on our phones. Then I started shifting to photographing the people who make these things locally, uploading all of that to Dropbox.
Interesting Designs
It seems you are creating a new language that didn’t exist before among designers, artisans, everyday people, manufacturers, and distributors in Lagos.
One thing I am proud of is the fact that I have intimate conversations with artisans about what it means to practice contemporary design. I tell them they can be designers too and there is an exchange of knowledge where they are teaching me as well.
Often I get things made in Lagos – I don’t really have a personal workshop. With so many corners of Lagos that I go to, I can’t take my computer with me. I’m not a foreigner – because I’m Lagosian to the core – but in some cases, I don’t want to bring crazy technology or anything that hinders the conversations. Everyone has a smartphone. So when I’m dealing with artisans, I can really go to my phone, access my Dropbox, and get the sketches I need. Without Dropbox, it seems impossible to practice design effectively.
I remember interacting with a welder, Mr. Fattah, whom I’ve known for years – since I was a teenager. One day, we were talking after I showed him a sketch. He didn’t quite understand the idea. I remembered the night before I had uploaded the sketches to Dropbox, so I showed him the sketch. He was able to get the right dimensions and details he needed to finish the piece.
Collaboration Across Continents
You mentioned earlier that you use cross-continental collaboration and shared experiences as a big part of your work. What does that look like in practice?
You know, the research is called “Africa: The Designer’s Utopia” for a reason. I think the best thing about the practice here is that you’re simply trying to find a way to exploit – not just materials, but also the coalition of designer, maker, and distributor to achieve a final goal.
Yes, the studio can lead this project, but it has to be open-source – we need as many helping hands as possible. One important thing, especially in the early stages, was figuring out the best way to use the right communication tools. Not just to communicate the idea, but also to document the results.
Because I really wanted this research to be collaborative and done correctly, I started reaching out to photographers and professional photographic artists. They have access to the folder and are uploading it themselves. They are all based in Lagos now, but I’m talking to a photographer in Dakar for the next chapter of the research project and shared the Dropbox link with him.
I have …
The studio manager used to work in the office and is now remote, and I’ve only met her once when she was in Nairobi. She uses Dropbox as much as we do. It really opened my mind to the fact that you can build a team across continents, and that the person does not have to be next to you. This has changed the dynamic and exploring adding new members to the team.
I always used to say, “Oh, there are only two or three people in my studio.” But I was talking to a big person, and he said something amazing. He said, “Oh my God, you can’t say that, because you’ve simply built a community, and your studio is a community – and those artisans are part of your studio.” It made me feel like I was getting closer to the questions I had been asking myself about the design ecosystems on the continent.
This interview has been edited and summarized.
Source: https://blog.dropbox.com/topics/customer-stories/nifemi-marcus-bello
Leave a Reply