Kilwa Kisiwani Ruins
A Photograph by Christopher Littlewood
Why choose to take a photograph of an enfilade of archways? If the path leads anywhere the picture says little of what’s on the other end. Only that, without doubt, this pathway was built to allow passage. Hence it is at once a picture of the state of these archways as it is of a time now past. What might it seem like, then, to come to terms with the knowledge held in those cracks and blotches—to see through the multitude of feet for whom, as they approached this threshold, an elsewhere was possible?
— Emmanuel Iduma
Kilwa Kisiwani, an island and former Swahili settlement, sits just off the Tanzanian coast. Built in the 9th century, Kilwa was a key trading port between the interior of Africa and Arabia, India and China. Following colonial expansion by the Portuguese, the city's decline ensued, and Kilwa fell into ruin. Within its urban fabric were palaces, public squares, mosques and burial tombs. This photograph depicts the interior of the Great Mosque with its pillars and vaulted ceiling.
Situated amongst mangroves and baobabs, surrounded by coral reefs, the present-day island complex is an assortment of crumbling stone structures. Such coral stone and lime constructions exist throughout the East African littoral. They reflect the pervasive influence of Swahili architecture alongside the Islamisation of this region. Through centuries of cultural exchange between seafaring societies, a dynamic urbanism defines the region's rich cultural heritage.
A fascination with the nature of the Swahili townscape as one of openness and organic assimilation of cultures was the starting point for this project. Before arriving in Lamu Island in 2019 for an artist residency, I travelled from my home in Johannesburg via several sites along the Swahili coast. The idea was to photograph pre-colonial precedents such as Kilwa, and morph them with archetypes of post-independence modernism. The photographs are subsequently used in their own right or as studies for sculptural work during the residency.
The resulting series, titled Swahili Morphology, attempts to weave a coastal tapestry using photographs of permeable buildings, artefacts, and other expressions of material culture. In keeping with the spirit of Swahili townscapes as being always incomplete and ever-changing, I have revisited and rephotographed sites such as Kilwa, continuing to build and re-shape the work.
I don't usually photograph people. People do appear occasionally, but not by preconception. If, through the composition of a scene like a built environment or cultural landscape, a person enters the frame of their own accord and creates unity as if they belong there, it can be hard to avoid. But mostly, my photographs are about the presence of people - their cultural values, traditions and material expressions.
By showing sites of cultural significance as empty or sparse, attention is drawn to the aesthetics of built form, material texture and decorative motif. Thereby encouraging the viewer to consider the histories or underlying meanings as they relate to a collective culture. Rather than being drawn into an individual story. Kilwa Kisiwani Ruins I portrays that well for me. When printed, the image takes on a tangible quality with its regressing perspective, repeated archways and soft natural lighting. I see an image such as this one as symbolic of an opening – a portal.
Led by intuition and curiosity, my photography is about creating a dialogue with a place or a set of interconnected places. I try to work in a way that feels as unmediated as possible. To that end, it is often just me, my analogue camera and one lens. No batteries, artificial lights, assistants or screens. I never start a project with a clearly defined concept or a clever set of rules. While that approach may work for others to good effect, I start with a broad framework or theme and allow the subject matter to dictate the direction.
If the predominant method for presenting architectural photographs in sequence is through typologies, then the sequences of images I arrive at could be considered morphologies. It's an approach that views cultural forms and architectures as layered and interwoven and the built environment as a platform for experimentation and change.
— Christopher Littlewood
About Christopher Littlewood
Chritopher Littlewood was born and raised in Hong Kong, before moving to the UK. He studied photography in London, where he worked as a curator. After relocating to Johannesburg, he now focuses on long-term photographic projects. More of his work can be seen on his website and Instagram.
LAST WEEK — “Statement No. 1” by Khalid Alarabi
It was a hot day in Khartoum, but the excitement was overwhelming. The announcement from the military commander sparked a huge celebration. The crowd erupted with joy, believing they had achieved a great victory. I was in the middle of the crowd, wanting to capture the intense emotions of that moment. Amid the cheers, I spotted a soldier lifted above the crowd, holding a stick high in the air. People around him were cheering, waving flags, and holding water bottles to stay cool. Their faces showed pure happiness and relief, convinced that they had won their freedom.
This is the 127th edition of this publication. The newsletter also read on web (best for viewing images), and via the Substack iOS/Android apps.
TENDER PHOTO is a collaborative digital archive and publishing platform of contemporary African photography, edited by Emmanuel Iduma. Our aim is to use photography to engage with life on the African continent. We publish narratives about the people, places, and events pictured in photographs, contributing to nuanced and layered perceptions.
Every Wednesday we feature a photograph, a short caption about it, and a statement from the photographer. Last year, we published commentaries or photo-essays in response to photographs previously featured on the newsletter, including CORRESPONDENCES, CONCORDANCE, KINDRED, INDEX, and AFFINITIES. Our ongoing series dedicated to the 5 photographers featured in Process Projected, Amsterdam. See work by Fibi Afloe here.
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The very first image took me to images from Pompéi