An artist and his artistic son: the Locke family

We visit exhibitions in London regularly. The show I am about to outline was one we visited for a particular reason, which I will reveal later.

THE CAMDEN ART Centre on the corner of Arkwright Road and Finchley Road in north London is housed in a Victorian gothic building, which was built originally as a public library, It has been tastefully modernised to be used as an arts centre with good exhibition spaces. A contemporarily designed annex contains a pleasant café. The exhibitions put on at the centre rarely disappoint. Often, they highlight noteworthy artists, whose works are rarely displayed elsewhere in London.

By Donald Locke

The current show, which ends on 30 August 2026, is a collection of works by Donald Locke (1930-2010). He was born in Guyana (formerly ‘British Guiana’), and died in Atlanta (USA). In the 1950s, Donald came to the UK, where he studied art first at Bath Academy of Art, then at Edinburgh University. He moved to London in 1970, and at the end of the 1970s, moved to the USA – first to Phoenix (Arizona), then to Atlanta (Georgia). The Art Centre’s website (https://camdenartcentre.org/whats-on/resistant-forms?elevation=Headline) noted that Locke was:

“… singularly prolific and heterodox artist, this exhibition represents the most comprehensive survey to date of the range of materials and styles adopted by Donald Locke across his life, reflecting his unwavering pursuit to give form and visibility to the ‘unique and hybrid contributions of Black culture to modernity.’

The exhibition displayed Locke’s versatility. It contains ceramic works, bronze sculptures, photographs, assemblages of objects (mostly created by the artist), a slide show, paintings, and collages. Many of the paintings have images pasted on them, and some have richly textured surfaces. The sculptural works include many cylindrical phallic forms – they might represent fingers, bullets, or phalluses. Although many of the works on display tend to contain abstract images, they are the artist’s way of exploring the historical, political, social, and physical environments in which he lived at different stages of his life.

The exhibition was beautifully laid out, and well worth seeing. An informative printed booklet provided a useful guide to the exhibits and how they related to the different stages of the artist’s life.

One thing the booklet failed to mention, and we found no note of it in the exhibition, is the fact that Donald Locke was the father of the very successful British artist Hew Locke (born in Edinburgh in 1959). Like his father, Hew is a multi-media artist, and according to Wikipedia, he is one of the:

“… (Black) Artists who continue to produce work with a critical message, like Yinka Shonibare and Hew Locke, avoid the open confrontation typical of the 1980s and instead use humour and satire, positioning themselves as cultural insiders, rather than excluded outsiders.”

It was because we were familiar with Hew’s work, when we learned that there was an exhibition of his father’s creations, we decided to see it, and we were not disappointed.

Souvenirs of imperialism at the British Museum

THE BRITISH MUSEUM contains many objects that were obtained when much of the world was part of the British Empire. Over the past couple of years, the artist Hew Locke (born 1959) has been selecting items in the museum’s collections and putting them together in a special exhibition called “What have we here?”. The exhibition will continue until the 9th of February 2025.

The items he has chosen are exhibited alongside sculptures and other artworks he has created in recent years. Each of the museum objects that Locke has chosen is accompanied by a short text that places the exhibit in the context of British imperialist exploits and exploitation. This has been done sensitively and gives the viewer an idea of what the objects meant to their original owners and why British collectors deemed them worthy of bringing home to England as ‘souvenirs’ of their activities in far off lands.

Interspersed amongst the exhibits chosen from the British Museum’s collection there are artworks by Hew Locke. Each of these beautiful things has been created to illustrate aspects of colonialism. For example, the model boats he has made symbolise exploration, trade, and the transport of goods and people (often against their will). There are also several historic companies share certificates on which Locke has added paintings. The shares were issued by companies that used slave labour. Perched above the display cabinets are a series of well-crafted but grotesque models of people, often dressed in clothes made from fragments of company documents. They represent the people who were downtrodden by their imperialist rulers.

In this exhibition, Locke neither seeks revenge nor condemns the activities of the colonialists. Instead, he tries to improve our understanding of what happened, hoping that history will not repeat itself. As with many other of Locke’s creations, this exhibition at the British Museum is both imaginative and eye-catching. It is well worth a visit.

The black man’s burden

IN 1899, RUDYARD Kipling (1865-1936), who was born in Bombay (when India was under British rule), wrote a poem called “The White Man’s Burden”. The content of this piece was in harmony with the then current idea that the ‘white race’ was morally obliged to ‘civilise’ the non-white races of the earth, and through colonisation to encourage their economic development and ‘progress’. Well, this was an illusion happily believed by most of the colonisers. The reality was that colonisation was not designed to benefit the colonised but to increase the prosperity of the colonisers. The white man’s burden was in truth much more the burden which had to be borne by the non-white races, which were colonised. This is beautifully characterised in an art installation, “The Procession”, on display in London’s Tate Britain until the 22nd of January 2023. Conceived and created by the Guyanese-British artist Hew Locke (born 1959 in Edinburgh), I have seen it twice so far, and loved it each time.

“The Procession” consists of a large number of models of people dressed in colourful and fantastical costumes. They are arranged as if they are taking part in a carnival or parade. Many of the models appear slightly grotesque or even menacing. If these models were real people, they would inspire awe and maybe fear. Some of them carry banners, others carry skulls, and there are some supporting poles from which objects are either suspended, or on which objects are supported.

There are banners in the procession. Some of these depict colonial dwellings and institutions. Others show enlarged photographs of company share certificates and financial bonds. Some of the characters in the parade wear clothes on which these old-fashioned records of financial investment are printed. Thus, the artist has portrayed the fact that success of the investments of the European and American colonists and their backers rested on the shoulders of the hard-working black colonial subjects, who derived few if any benefits from their labour.

“The Procession” is not only a highly original way of conveying the unfortunate history of colonization, but also a feast for the eyes. It is both a reminder of Britain’s not always too glorious colonial past, as well as a celebration of the cultural diversity, which this country enjoys. The installation is housed in the magnificent neo-classical Duveen Galleries (opened in 1937), whose design is derived from architecture characteristic of the ancient imperialist regimes, which dominated the Mediterranean many centuries ago. Was it accidental or deliberate to place an essentially anti-imperialist exhibit in rooms that evoke an imperial past and by their immensity dwarf the exhibits? Whatever the answer, this is an exhibition for which it is well-worth making a detour.