I still lack words to articulate my utter dismay and complete frustration on hearing news of the recent so-called "restoration" of the works of the late sculptor, Erhabor Emokpae, by the management of the National Theatre, Lagos.
Built as the show-piece of the Second World Black Festival of Arts and Culture (FESTAC) in 1977, the National Theatre building in Iganmu, Lagos, remains perhaps the most distinctive architectural building in all of Lagos, and this is not simply because its design-which is unmistakably reminiscent of the structure of a military cap and-memorialises the economic profligacy of the military regimes.
However, where the design of the building is redolent of military arrogance, the sculptural frieze, at the four expansive entrances of the circular structure, designed by Erhabor Emokpae, visually humanises and reclaims it as a cultural space rather than a monument to military adventure in Nigeria body politic.
Emokpae's commission, which includes the sculptural friezes and several historical portraits currently in the Portrait Gallery of the National Gallery of Modern Art, solidified his influence and fame, before his premature death in 1984.
As with all public art, but especially sculptures exposed to the incredibly polluted Lagos environment, there is no doubt that constant maintenance is crucial.
This is particularly imperative for the Emokpae friezes made of cold cast bronze-usually a mixture of polyurethane resin and bronze powder-the original patina of which can fade with time and which is also liable to structural degrading.
But the tragedy of the recent so-called restoration is not so much that it was done at all as due to process one can best describe as "the Nigerian way."
For the avoidance of doubt, all parties involved in the restoration were clearly not concerned with the implication of their action for the future of Emokpae's work.
I have read extensive reports on the process of the restoration commission, and cannot see any mention of a prior condition report by a certified conservator. Without a professional evaluation of the condition of the sculptures, there is no way anyone, artist or not, can guess or divine the most appropriate and advisable restorative work on them.
While I have yet to see the "face-lifting,"-which, according to a report in The Guardian (Lagos), is how the Director General of the theatre describes the project-the outcome of the restoration clearly indicates that not enough consideration was given to the integrity of Emokpae's work.
The decision to paint a work of art, when originally it was not painted, seems to me enough ground to claim that violence has been done to the work of this important artist, and this is most regrettable.
This is why any discussion of restoration or "face-lifting" (a terrible term to use for a work of art, one must add) ought to have involved a certified art conservator to oversee the process.
Moreover, normative conservation ethics requires that any restoration of a work of art must as much as possible keep to its original design. But what has happened to Emokpae's friezes is an imposition of a new design on it; in other words it has been transformed rather than restored.
Whether or not this kind of radical transformation is what the National Theatre management wanted, the point is that no one who is seriously concerned about issues of authorship-which in art is a serious matter-should have been part of this so-called restoration.
Unfortunately, the parties one would have expected to raise alarm, upon hearing of the attempt to "restore" the sculptures were either compromised or they turned the other away.
According to reports, even the Society of Nigerian Artists, the preeminent body of professional artists in the land, sent in their own proposal for restoring the sculptures, along with other artist associations and commercial art galleries.
What does this tell you? It suggests that the very people who should have made sure that the work of their fellow artist was handled with the same kind of respect given to valuable works of art elsewhere, rather joined with the management of the building to treat Emokpae's work as though it was merely a part of the building in need of face-lifting.
Yes, owners of buildings have been known to destroy commissioned architectural murals and sculptures either for ideological reasons, or simply because their interest in such works of art dissipated. That is the danger commissioned works face.
But for a state institution, along with its collaborators, to treat a work of art as though it were old furniture needing a new coat of paint, is an act of violence on the work of an artist whose memory deserves better respect.


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