This is the first Akodi orisa that I constructed in 2011 in Ondo.
I had no trouble whatsoever from anybody when I built the studio-museum there.
I am therefore surprised that the one in Ile Ife, just finished in 2018, has attracted so much attention.
Kally Ozolua, the art editor of The Nation Newspaper has a good story on my arrest by THE NIGERIA POLICE.
Artist: Moyo Okediji
Title: ToKillaMockingBird
Medium: Acrylic on canvas
Date: 2018
Reminds me of a painting by Parmigianino, titled SELF PORTRAIT IN A CONVEX MIRROR, painted circa 1524 during the Renaissance. In the painting, the convex mirror from which Parmigianino is painting places the artist’s hand at the forefront of the composition, in a manner that exaggerates the hands, thus proclaiming the powerful quality of the craftsmanship within the hand of an artist.
Best In Africa
I was arrested for the first time at age 62. For building an Orisa house, in Ile Ife.
I made the statement to a bunch of police officers most of them young enough to be my children.
It was an act of humiliation at the least.
The greatest custodian of Ifa, the Araba of Ile Ife, Araba Adisa Mokorowale with Moyo Okediji July 26, 2017.
Artist: Moyo Okediji Title: The Tongue Is Sharper Than the Sword Medium: acrylic on canvas. Date:…
Friend welcoming me back to the US.
I’ve missed Babylon.
The land of alienation has its consolations.
I thank you all, my friends, for your support.
My first month in the United States, 1992.
I began to paint in my office at the University of Wisconsin-Madison.
I was trying to discover myself again in a new world after leaving behind Nigeria and everything that was meaningful to me, everything that had anchored me.
Jetlagged.
From Heathrow Airpot to Austin Airport.
At the airport and, incredibly, within this period, I gave birth to the ÀKÒDÌ ÒRÌṢÀ, the building in the background of this picture.
“The Police Area Commander (AC) is interested in the case,” a police officer with a cellphone said. “He just called to say that he is now at his seat, and wants to see all of you in his office.” The AC’s office was about one hundred meters across the yard, from where we were seated. We all filed into the AC’s office. He was seated, and his large desk was decorated with pictures, flags and small objects with personal sentimental values. He was a handsome middle-aged man who seemed rather too pleasant looking to be a police officer. Not until he stood up did I realize that his gait was forward-leaning, with the robust physique of a football tackler. You wouldn’t want to be in his way despite his handsome mien.