Akuda: One of a rare breed

At the Gallery with Terrence Chitukudza and
Rutendo Mutadzapasi
We once had a man called Fanizani Akuda.
His name went into the Hall of Fame of Zimbabwean stone sculptors. Today, sadly this talented genius of the genre is no more.
The community in which he strode like a Colossus has been plunged into deep mourning — from Tengenenge Art Village in Guruve to Bhobhogarande in Chiweshe: all the sculpture centres scattered around the country, including the National Art Gallery.
All of them  are struggling to come to terms with the death of Fanizani Akuda.
His death can best be described as catastrophic, as it has robbed the visual arts community of one of its illustrious sons who helped shape the genre.
The holder of many accolades — won through his sheer brilliance — Akuda’s figure stood prominently, distinctly, as he became the antithesis of mediocrity in sculpture.
What makes his death more painful is that he was one of the remaining few of a breed of first generation sculptors who pioneered Zimbabwe’s stone sculpture with unequalled mastery.
Fanizani had acquired a wealth of experience in stone sculpture during all the years of toil and sweat in the pioneering sculpting fields of Tengenenge.
Having been there in the formative years of this unique art community, going through his own conversion into the genre in 1966 — through the angelic hand of Tom Bloemfield — Fanizani himself grew to become a symbolic figure of stone sculpture.
There arose a situation where, by simply coming across Fanizani Akuda, one would be interfaced with the insides of Zimbabwe’s sphere, and how it can define their being and what makes one a sculptor.
Whether it is just a matter of picking the idle, rare, raw stone, chisel and hammer — or it is something else?.
Or is there a distinct criterion that separates a sculptor from a craftsman — who is disguised in the sculptor’s robes?
Fanizani Akuda would narrate those stories about sculpture: how it evolved and what inspired him and his colleagues — the likes of Matemera, Wazi Maicolo — to take up stone sculpture as a career.
Akuda would speak openly, explicitly about stone sculpture to youth, still learning the threads of the genre — those chopping the stone under the shadows of a musasa tree, youth exhibiting for the first time and others just coming back from overseas exhibitions.
“I enjoy sharing with the young the wonders  of stone sculpture.
“Right now I am old and weak and I can’t do the hard stuff,” he said.
He spoke about the demands of the job with the sincerity of one who has seen it all — the rough edges and how to smoothen them.
“You know, it’s not always easy. Being an artiste you can be forced to give it up  because the going is not always smooth.
“Enos Gunja, a colleague, once quit, turning to a white-collar job, only to come back to the stone,” he once said in an interview.
He was the grandmaster of sculpture and one would not chronicle the journey of stone sculpture in Zimbabwe, without mentioning Akuda.
And his primary concern was the growth of the ordinary stone sculptor through a development concept revolving around individual excellence, outlined through original works.
Akuda, alluding to originality as an attribute of good art, would say: “Art comes from within and people who answer to that calling should know that they should be original and innovative.”
Fanizani was himself a creative genius. His works won global acclaim and are scattered all over the world from Atlanta, Georgia to Sydney, Australia.
Fanizani migrated from Zambia to Zimbabwe in 1949. His work was an expression of a litany of life experiences that were so much centred on the black person, drawing from what he encountered in the two countries as he grew.
An artist of Chewa descent, Akuda’s work also reflected the mysticism associated with the African people, the concepts of high myths and tales.
Some of his images were more or less grotesque, with figures that had their lips misplaced — breasts hanging primly in unusual positions — as if to expose some underlying disorders in society.
And these pieces were anecdotal of real-life events, the beauty of life, the unpleasant — joys and sorrows. 
And Akuda’s style was constant — throughout the time- frame of his career, he displayed the characteristic of a legendary artist.
He boasted about his trademark saying: “This has been my trademark since I started carving and it is synonymous with my work.”
Akuda would say concerning originality: “One can look at my work and say this is Fanizani.”
Some of Akuda’s masterpieces include “Snake Horse”, “Woman”,  “Fisherman” and “Whistling Head”.
In almost all his pieces, Akuda’s preoccupation was to reproduce human and animal figures with their offspring, as he believed in the family unit.
He was a family man himself — a unifying figure, a man of peace, love and an altruist.
Some of Akuda’s pieces appeared to take the tenor of intelligent counsel that compelled the human spirit to be content with the world around it.
Therefore, Akuda gave cultural, spiritual and moral lessons prominence.
Not to forget the brilliance, with which he executed his work, the incisive outlines. Some of his pieces appeared to be contorting — then to revert to uprightness — only to give the final image of beauty — embracing, abundant in meaning.
Surely, the world will live to remember Fanizani Akuda,  the man who illuminated Zimbabwe sculpture.
But he would always talk about his roots.
“I was born in Zambia, in 1932 . . . I speak Nyanja better than Shona, as you can discern from my speech,” he said.
Indeed, the artistic brilliance of Fanizani will remain etched in our memories and visions, because his work was extraordinary.
It defined the being of African people — history, culture and the future.
And for all his ingenuity he never claimed to be the god-father of art.
“Artists must not judge others. They must be like the grandfather to all and love others,” he said.
One of Akuda’s constant wishes was for his efforts to be remembered forever.
“I would like to be remembered as a person aishanda basa rematombo —  a  good father and a good artist.
Akuda was calm, accommodating,  calculating — and  was blessed with an angel’s smile that nourished the people around him.
The life Akuda lived was a rich and decorated  life.
Life would not have reached full cycle without Akuda to give us those flashing moments.
If the world is to forget Akuda, the sculpting community will not — for Akuda’s name will always be engraved in the minds of the art community.