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In many of these former housing blocks, the infrastructure was never in place, so even the natural and regular occurrence of rain could be the start of serious problems such as flooding. But while these areas had problems, they also had their merits, and could boast of strong communities and independent, self-run businesses.

As these places and communities are being destroyed, and the city undergoes visible, radical gentrification, some artists have taken it upon themselves to address and influence this change. Not surprisingly then, Berhanu Ashagrie, one of the artists who has made an overtly political body of work focusing on this urbanisation project is also the new (and youngest) director of the only academic art program in the city, The Addis Ababa School of Fine Arts and Design. It’s fitting that the people bringing attention to the government’s veiled urban renewal policy are also working towards increased transparency from the scope of their own practices.

The Addis Ababa School of Fine Arts and Design
Ashagrie’s videos, photos and performances directly confront the clash between the old and the new. When a neighbourhood has been razed, architectural elements like windows and doors are set aside for sale or trade. In one site-specific performance Morning Beauty (2011), the artist carefully cleaned and hand-painted the salvaged doors shades of bright green, slowly and patiently working to draw out the subtle relations between art and the city’s social landscape.

There is very little support for the arts from the government, which means that many artists are heavily motivated to become part of the creative industry and enter the art market.

He seems to have similar aims for his work within the university. During an informal talk he gave in February, he offered a short history of the program, explaining that the university itself is only about 75 years old and the Art Department was founded in ’58-’59. Many of the professors studied in former Soviet countries, were heavily influenced by their education, and in turn, impressed upon their students rigid notions of what art is and where it belongs.

Walking around the campus confirmed the lasting legacy of the first generation of teachers. It’s evident is in the student-body demographics: of the 25 students selected from nearly 1,200 applicants, usually all are male. In the sculpture studio, young artists are at work casting moulds and chiseling. A homemade barbell and benchpress in the studio are reminders that this kind of art-making requires muscle. When asked why there are so few female students, Ashagrie replies that most of the applicants are male, but he seems interested in changing this ratio, along with a host of other ‘legacies’.

Ashagrie wants to open up dialogues within the educational setting. He sees two concurrent and conflicting trends: One the one hand, there is very little support for the arts from the government, which means that many artists are heavily motivated to become part of the creative industry and enter the art market.

“We have to explain why we need money to pay for a model,” Ashagrie tells us. On the other hand, he is trying to create an academic program that encourages artists to be socially engaged and to not limit themselves to a gallery-centered career. One of the ways he sees change happening, especially in the past 20 years, is through collaboration with other institutions and artists. In the past few years, artist Ólafur Elíasson has become a regular presence at the art school and initiated a series of parallel workshops and events in Addis and Berlin in connection with his studio program The Institut für Raumexperimente.

And earlier this year, thirteen MFA students from the Dutch Art Institute (DAI) also visited and engaged with the university as a part of DAI’s Roaming Academy under the guidance of project leader Doreen Mende. These artistic exchanges show a significant change in direction on the part of the university, pointing towards a policy that is less about exclusion and obfuscation (while under construction) and more about transparency.

Asni Gallery
Rounding out the formal approach of the academic program, the Netsa Art Village and Asni Gallery are also both extending their artistic activities to a wider public including Addis locals and the international community.

It became clear that Asni is a vital hub for local, ex-pat, and diaspora artists and visitors alike.

Though the noticeable crossover among the artists involved with these three places could indicate a closed community, there is instead an overwhelming openness and collaborative spirit. An impromptu conversation with Asni Gallery’s Konjit Seyoum and Ethiopian Berlin-based photographer Yero Adugna Eticha confirmed this. Talking about translation issues, language and a recent book of poetry in Amharic over a gorgeous lunch made in the Asni Gallery-Restaurant, it became clear that Asni is a vital hub for local, ex-pat, and diaspora artists and visitors alike. In addition to the regular exhibition schedule, Asni frequently hosts film screenings, book launches, and artists’ talks.

Netsa Art Village
Within this concentrated art scene, the Netsa Art Village, located in the lush urban retreat of Ferensay Park, also plays an important role. Established in 2008 by eleven graduates of the School of Fine Arts and Design, this energetic community had been staging exhibitions, youth workshops, concerts and screenings to increase visibility and accessibility of art in the city.

Director Mihret Kebede’s work is fueled by her own creative drive as an artist and poet and her energy is matched by the efforts of prominent member artists. Remarkably, the Netsa Art Village is largely self-financed but its cooperation with other networks for contemporary art, such as the Triangle Network, and support from, among others, the Kuona Trust, Asni Gallery, the Townhouse Gallery, and the Arts Collaboratory help sustain it.

Among Netsa’s collective activities are recent public art interventions in the projects Wax and Gold in 2013 and the Sounds of Change International Art Conference in April-May of this year. Performances in urban spaces are a novelty for both the public and the authorities. When they had to officially register their intentions for the performance Moving Society earlier this year, the artists could’t find the vocabulary that the police would understand so they told them they were having a ‘circus’.

While the police waited for the circus to arrive, the artists were able to carry out their choreography with minimal interruptions until the end, when it was clear that acrobats and animals were not on the way. Although Kebede and the other organisers know how to deal with less-accepting audiences they are rarely faced with disinterest. During Moving Society a crowd from the street gathered within a matter of seconds and many stayed for the entire performance.

And the poetry nights Tobiya Poetic Jazz at the Ras Hotel Hall, though not directly connected to Netsa, (jointly organised by Kebede and four others) have around a thousand audience members every month. Kebede regrets that they often have to turn people away and is planning to hold the readings on a bimonthly basis to enable even higher attendance.

It’s undeniable that the social structures that these three groups in Addis Ababa are forming are a way of changing the cityscape through subtle but meaningful moves. Whether the changes come through a bureaucratic process like a new hire at the university, or through the substitution of a word – “circus” instead of “performance art”, artists in Addis are finding ways to work within the system. Painting doors the same shade of green as the walls that hide the government’s work makes a resounding metaphorical shift from walls to doors, and from exclusion to invitation.

Further reading: Contemporary Ethiopian Art: The New, Exit Generation Artists by Esseye Medhin.