ABSTRACT:
This article explores the last six decades of visual art studies in Ghana. It focuses primarily on historic indigenous art genres. For strategic reasons, and because of space constraints, it excludes contemporary idioms like studio-based painting and sculpture as well as videography, photography, and performance art. The essay reviews the historical and recent scholarship dealing with traditional Ghanaian art, highlighting the most relevant research and the significant gaps in knowledge. The exploration concludes with a list of the challenges facing the field, among them the striking unevenness in the representation of the ethnic groups that comprise the nation, the predominance of Akan art studies, and the need to refine the methodologies deployed for studying the arts of Ghana. It also advocates for a paradigm shift that broadens the existing canon and encourages interdisciplinary scholarly collaboration and cross-ethnic comparative studies to achieve a more complete art history of Ghana.
Introduction
This essay is not the historiography of Ghanaian art that the volume’s editors requested from me. That has already been done (Labi 2015; Quarcoopome 2019). Instead, I have chosen to briefly critique the scholarship pertaining specifically to indigenous visual practices, both past and present, which I will hereafter refer to as traditional art. Consequently, though I acknowledge contemporary studio-based art and related art forms, I exclude them for two strategic reasons: first, to underscore traditional art’s precarious state, caused in part by a pervasive shift toward the study of contemporary art; and second, to challenge the erroneous notion that we have exhausted research on traditional art. With so much in flux, and considering a radically transformed research landscape that de-emphasizes tradition-based art, Ghanaian visual art scholarship has reached an inflection point requiring serious reflection. Even more crucially, the recent passing of Doran Ross and Atta Kwami, two leading scholars whose lifetime contributions epitomize the two trajectories of the field, makes this soul-searching imperative.
In a volume such as this, which looks expansively at the development and future of visual art studies in Ghana, it makes sense to take stock, beginning with the field’s many noteworthy accomplishments. But it is equally important to recognize work that has not received much attention but that merits study, and the likely challenges we face in pursuing it. As a Ghanaian-born art historian with some grounding in archaeology, and more than three decades of teaching and curatorial experience, I bring a unique perspective to this critical review of Ghanaian art history. Moreover, because of my ongoing research in traditional art, I have a vested interest in protecting that area of inquiry. Also, my familiarity with the country’s cultural landscape, including its informal art and antiquities market, enables me to contemplate the future. Thus, while this essay highlights structural imbalances and gaps in our knowledge about traditional art, it also identifies research opportunities that could strengthen future efforts to document and critique visual practices in Ghana.
Approaching the Visual Arts of Ghana
Centuries ago, European visitors to Ghana like De Marees (1987), Müller (1676), and Barbot (1789) described and, at times, illustrated art forms they encountered. Increased economic and political interaction with the inhabitants of what became known as the Gold Coast in the 1800s led to more substantive documentation (e.g., Bowdich 1819; Cruickshank 1853). However, it was not until the early twentieth century that serious academic interest in Ghanaian arts emerged, with the colonial presence of the British and Germans. For example, the anthropological research of Jakob Spieth (1906) and R. S. Rattray (1923, 1927) provided unprecedented insights into, respectively, indigenous Ewe and Asante material culture.
Ghanaian art scholarship took another significant turn following the introduction of tertiary education in the Gold Coast colony. Achimota School, founded in 1927, was the first institution to offer instruction in the Western-style studio or fine art (Stevens 1930; Woets 2014a). Later, the University College of Ghana (now the University of Ghana), founded in 1948, also spearheaded the study of material culture and visual arts through its Archaeology Department and Institute of African Studies (Visual Arts Section). Soon after, Kwame Nkrumah University of Science and Technology’s College of Art began offering academic programs in studio art. From these developments emerged the separate trajectories of traditional and contemporary art and the ontological tensions between them.
After independence from Britain in 1957, Ghana saw tremendous local excitement around her artistic heritage as the new republic sought to forge a unified cultural identity. Concurrently, as the country emerged on the world stage, international interest in her visual traditions grew. As a result, European and American researchers flocked to Ghana, introducing a wave of empiricism and narrowly focused arts studies that integrated Ghanaian art into global art-historical scholarship. Likewise, systematic field collecting of art, which had begun during the previous century, intensified. Accordingly, since 1960, visual arts research has undergone several remarkable transformations. Today, Ghanaian visual culture is a burgeoning field at Ghanaian universities. The involvement of specialists from diverse allied disciplines—music, literature, philosophy, history, anthropology, archaeology, folklore, and performance arts—has shaped an eclectic methodology that is still evolving. Also, unlike the pre-independence era when expatriates dominated the research landscape, local enthusiasm for art studies has grown lately.
Indeed, the inception of Ghanaian visual art studies largely owes a debt to the pioneering work of two local stalwarts: Kofi Antubam and Alex A. Y. Kyerematen. Kyerematen’s broad overview of Ghana’s indigenous arts, outlined in his Panoply of Ghana (1964) provided the essential blueprint for Cole and Ross’s monumental exhibition catalog, The Arts of Ghana (1977), which went a step further in two critical respects. First, in terms of scope, it offered a more comprehensive corpus of Ghanaian art forms than Kyerematen’s, which focused narrowly on leadership and decorative arts. Second, The Arts of Ghana successfully integrated observations from centuries-old European writings about Ghana’s visual cultures, effectively establishing a basic historical framework for their study. Considering that it also inspired two other influential works—McLeod’s (1980) The Asante and Ross and Garrard’s (1983) Akan Transformations—it is difficult to underestimate the catalog’s far-reaching impact. Like Kyerematen’s Panoply of Ghana, Antubam’s Ghana’s Heritage of Culture, published in 1963, was equally critical in shaping the study of Ghanaian contemporary art, its burgeoning studio art practice, and its theoretical underpinnings (e.g., Kwami 2013, seid’ou 2020).
A Brief History of Scholarly Research into Ghana’s Visual Arts
Ghanaian traditional art encompasses a broad spectrum of indigenous genres, from sculptures in diverse media (e.g., clay, wood, metals, ivory, and stone) to architecture, textiles, and performances. This section provides a brief survey, organized in terms of genre and media, and aims to give a sense of the scope and depth of six decades of research that has developed around these arts.
However, it is important to preface this section of the article by again acknowledging the enormous impact that Kyerematen’s pioneering work (1964, 1966) has had in advancing the scholarship about leadership art. It encompasses several of the most researched visual forms—objects rendered in distinctive materials that, individually and collectively, encapsulate and evoke power. His original thesis that associated beads, animal skins, and gold with three types of leadership in Ghana—priest, secular, and sacred kingship, respectively—remains valid. Thus far, most research has revolved around Akan, mostly Asante, political regalia, focusing on object history and function within specific traditional contexts. On balance, some work has been done on theocratic leadership emblems among the Ga, Dangme, and Ewe societies, though much still needs to be done (Quarcoopome 1993). Importantly, there is a need to grow the scholarship around the fundamental attributes of political power associated with less well-known societies, such as those living in northern Ghana, beyond the limited exposure in The Arts of Ghana (Cole and Ross 1977).
Ceramics
Pottery analysis, long a critical aspect of Iron Age archaeology, has attracted considerable scholarly interest. Before 1960, archaeological and stylistic studies of pottery yielded solid evidence of Ghanaian art’s deep history (Davies 1956, 1977; Shaw 1961). However, limited investigations of potting in the post-independence era have occurred. Two stand out, namely Berns’ (2007) examination of the craft at Bondakire and Aronson’s (2007) critical insights about specialized vessels employed in Ewe Vodun worship. In addition, a recent analysis of Akan clan pots (abusua kuruwa) has added perspectives on the symbolism and the vessels’ complex historical relationship to ritual practice (Quarcoopome 2016). Elsewhere, in northern Ghana, despite substantial research on Lobi ritual pots (Schneider 1986), other clay vessels of unknown origin appearing on the local art market warrant academic scrutiny.
While beads are not entirely ceramic, they fit into that category because they are mostly clay- and stone-based. Research on beads during the colonial era was more focused on indigenous bead-making technology than on the genre as an art form (Rattray 1923; Wild 1931, 1937; Shaw 1945). However, excellent research by Crossland (2003), a thoroughly holistic examination that combines archaeological and ethnographic sources, has rectified an otherwise significant knowledge gap.
Sculpture in Terracotta
Besides generating enthusiasm around Ghanaian antiquities, early twentieth-century discoveries of terracotta sculptures in various parts of Akan territory (e.g., Wild and Braunholtz 1934) laid the foundation for subsequent archaeological investigations by Oliver Davies (1956) which, in turn, inspired the work by Ameyaw (1966), Sieber (1972), and Preston (1990). In addition, these publications provided the foundation for Quarcoopome’s (1977) subsequent morphological analysis of Akan terracotta sculpture, including a case study of the Aowin subgroup that informed Coronel’s (1979) art historical study (Figure 1).
Fante memorial head (nsodie), 1700–1800, terracotta, height 9.5 in. Detroit Institute of Arts, Museum Purchase, Friends of African and African American Art Fund, 2002.178. Photo courtesy of Detroit Institute of Arts.
Bellis’ (1972, 1982) archaeological excavation at Twifo Hemang, an eighteenth-century Fante site, was Akan terracotta sculpture’s first full-scale contextual study. Unfortunately, while the analysis offered a new direction for art-historical research in Ghana, it inadvertently created a problem. Art dealers and auction houses have since indiscriminately invoked the name “Twifo Hemang” to authenticate other Akan terracotta sculptures. Further work by Soppelsa (1987), Gilbert (1989), and Quarcoopome (2018) on the terracotta traditions of southeastern Côte d’Ivoire has added considerable richness and depth to the genre’s history.
In addition, one scholar has speculated about Akan terracotta art’s likely European origin (e.g., Garrard 1984a), while another has pointed out the genre’s localized meaning within Akan Akuapem (Gilbert 1989). But Anquandah’s (2003) archaeological study of Koma figurative terracottas in the Bulsa area of northern Ghana has put to rest the genre’s supposed non-African origin. Koma terracotta figures, dated between 1200 and 1800, long preceded their Akan counterparts even if, stylistically, they seem more aligned with the Sudanic grassland than with the coast.
Other clay-based sculptural forms speak to the medium’s deep history in Ghanaian visual culture. Cudjoe-Calvocoressi (1969) and, subsequently, Gilbert (1981) have researched ritual mud sculpture associated with the worship of Legba among the Ewe. Because unfired clay is perishable, it is unlikely to survive in archaeological contexts and is tricky to analyze historically. Modern Ewe cement funerary monuments have augmented this genre because, like clay, the sculpting of cement or concrete involves molding (Gilbert 1989).
Metal Arts
Silverman (1983, 2019) and Garrard (1980) have led the scholarship on Ghanaian metal arts. Silverman has examined fourteenth to fifteenth- century Egyptian (Mamluk) brassware documented in a few northern Akan communities and their relationship to the development of Akan brass containers known as kuduo as well as the introduction of lost-wax casting. Akan smiths have used the technology for centuries to produce other metal objects, including weights used for measuring gold. Although interest in these miniature brasses began in the early 1900s, most of the numerous publications about them offer little, if any, new knowledge on their origins and use beyond that provided in the definitive study of the tradition, Garrard’s (1980) Akan Weights and the Trans-Saharan Trade. The Ivoirian scholar Niangoran-Bouah (1984) and others have contributed insights regarding the symbolism of the weights’ myriad geometric and figurative forms. Though technically unrelated, the Akan forowa, a lidded container made of imported sheet brass, has been studied by Ross (1974).
Other metal arts have come to light. Garrard, for example, studied Akan silver (1984b) and Frafra brass working in northern Ghana (1982). In addition, current manifestations of historic figurative brass castings attributed to groups like the Bulsa, Lobi, Konkomba, Kulango, Moba, and Gonja suggest the research potential of northern Ghana’s metallurgical traditions.
Both iron-working and gold-working constitute exciting research, given their centrality in religious and political art. Sculptured iron emblems found in Ewe Vodun shrines seem to possess a deep history, as Stahl’s (2013) archaeological excavations suggest. However, for the Akan, gold’s criticality to leadership ideology is noteworthy. Scholars seem unable to resist the lure of Akan gold, as evidenced by the number of publications devoted to the subject (e.g., Ross 1977, 2002b). Still, many Akan gold studies have been broad surveys of Akan royal regalia (e.g., Ayensu 1997; Ross 2002a, 2009; Ampene and Nyantakyi 2016; Walker 2018). Gott’s (2013) essay about gold’s use as a medium for expressing concealed power in Akan culture adds a refreshing insight. Yet, collecting gold objects raises serious ethical issues because of gold’s intrinsic value and its historic use in Akan leadership regalia. Two significant studies—Garrard’s (1989) Gold of Africa and Ross’s (2002a) Gold of the Akan from the Glassell Collection—exemplify the fundamental conflict between first-rate scholarship and unethical Western collecting practices (Silverman 1990).
Sculpture in Wood and Ivory
Rattray (1927) conducted substantive scholarly research on Asante’s figurative wood carvings. However, besides a handful of articles about the iconic akua’ba figure (e.g., Ross 1996), research on Akan indigenous wood sculpture has been relatively limited and has been more about their functional contexts, primarily as shrine objects, than about analyzing them individually. As researchers have noted, shrines are sites of accumulation where works of art acquire meaning from being part of an assemblage (e.g., Warren 1976; Silverman 2005). Consequently, context trumps aesthetics, style, authorship, and history unless an object is the center of ritual attention.
The opposite is true for Akan political regalia because individual objects serve to convey specific messages, as some critical studies indicate—for example, stools (Sarpong 1971; Patton 1979), royal swords (Ross 1977), linguist staffs (Ross 1982), and umbrellas (Patton 1984). Even so, the Akan practice of decorating wood-carved emblems with sheet gold, brass, or silver makes it hard to appreciate the full scope of their sculptural output in wood (Figure 2).
Asante royal ceremonial sword (afena), early twentieth century, wood, gold leaf, rayfish skin, cast gold, iron, and leather, height 28 in. Detroit Institute of Arts, Museum Purchase, Joseph H. Parsons Fund, Gilbert B. and Lila Silverman, et al., 2005.2. Photo courtesy of Detroit Institute of Arts.
Thus far, few studies have examined the various Akan subgroups’ woodcarving styles, and we know little of their geographic distribution. Other than the overall aesthetic analysis of Akan wood statues by Warren and Andrews (1977), iconographic research has focused chiefly on Asante art. Ross led the scholarship in this area, not only advancing Kyerematen’s thesis about the interrelationship of Akan visual works to verbal forms (e.g., Ross 1977, 1982) but also highlighting how Akan sculptors sometimes assimilate foreign imagery in their wood carvings (e.g., Ross 1981, 1988).
Northern Ghana, too, boasts vibrant and widely dispersed woodcarving industries that have yet to receive the scholarly attention they deserve; take, for example, those of the Sisala, Dagaare, Gonja, Gurunsi, and Kulango. So far, Lobi sculpture has been the exception, as seen in Meyer’s (1981) critical work (Figure 3). Remarkably, the study of Ewe sculpture has also flourished since the 1960s, beginning with the crucial work of Cudjoe-Calvacoressi (1969, 1972), who provided the first analyses of Ewe religious sculptures and their functions. Jahn (1983) also has written on the so-called Ewe “colon” figures. Recent essays on Ewe ebony and ivory art and miniature ritual figures, Aklama kpakpewo, suggest that culture’s broad contribution to sculpting in southern Ghana (Quarcoopome 2010, 2016).
Lobi figure (bateba), 1800–1900, wood, height 24 in. Detroit Institute of Arts, Gift of Dr. Werner Muensterberger, 65.75. Photo courtesy of Detroit Institute of Arts.
Textile Arts
Much has been written about Ghanaian textiles, particularly kente and adinkra. Thus far, research has focused on Asante and Ewe strip-weaving traditions and their respective histories and technologies within a broad West African cultural context (e.g., Lamb 1975). Other studies have considered localized styles and symbolism; Posnansky (1992) and Adedze (1998) focus on Ewe cloth design names and their sociological implications. Wrapped in Pride: Ghanaian Kente and African American Identity, the 1998 volume edited by Doran Ross (1998), remains, by far, the most comprehensive exploration of Ghanaian textiles. It examines kente through a global lens, including its contemporary manifestations in the African diaspora. Finally, Kraamer’s (2005, 2006) work constitutes the most in-depth examination of Ewe kente design and its intersections with Asante practices in historical and contemporary contexts. Despite their pervasiveness in tourist art, compared to their Asante and Ewe counterparts, northern Ghana’s cloth-weaving industries remain relatively unexplored in the literature.
Aside from the strip-woven kente cloth, other Akan textiles have attracted both scholarly and popular attention. For example, Quarcoo (1972) underscored the social meaning of the stamped fabric known as adinkra by analyzing its symbolism. Likewise, Mato’s (1987) unpublished dissertation thoroughly investigates adinkra’s history, symbolism, and ongoing transformations. And Martino’s (2018) recent dissertation pushes the analysis even further, offering a detailed study of adinkra’s social history.
The appliquéd Fante Asafo flag constitutes a hybrid art that combines fabric, imagery, and performance. In this regard, its symbolic language is not unlike kente and adinkra. Following Ross’s (1979) pioneering monograph on the artform, several authors have surveyed its vast repertoire of imagery (e.g., Adler and Barnard 1992). In addition, Labi (2002a, 2002b) has added historical and social context to specific Asafo imagery, and Forni and Ross (2017) have recently published a book-length study focused on the flags’ contemporary interpretations.
Finally, recent developments in the study of Ghanaian visual culture have brought attention to considering textiles in the context of fashion. For example, Micot’s (2012) study of fancy-dress subculture in Ghana’s coastal communities coincides with the field’s pivot from textile analysis to dress and costume. Indeed, a growing number of scholars are studying the intersection of traditional Ghanaian dress design and global style (e.g., Gott 2009; Richards 2022).
Architectural Studies
Studies of both domestic and religious architecture and their related imagery were popular in the immediate post-independence era; however, interest has since waned. Other than Swithenbank’s (1969) primary investigation of Asante shrine houses, northern Ghana’s architecture has attracted the most scholarly attention, with the active involvement of scholars like Prussin (1965) and Smith (1978). Both Woets (2014b) and Sheldon (2016) have reflected further on the complex meanings of contemporary wall paintings in northeastern Ghana. Expanding on Swithenbank’s descriptive analysis, Prussin (1980) has provided historical context for understanding Asante’s elite architecture. Finally, Ross’s (2007) exploration of the complex politics surrounding the Fante Asafo military shrines (posuban) and Quarcoopome’s (1994) study of Dangme shrine forms and symbolic meanings signal the vast potential of studies of shrines and ritual art as a viable area of academic inquiry.
Popular/Urban Commercial Art
Some hybrid artforms straddle both the traditional and contemporary, hence their inclusion in this survey. Since the 1950s, self-taught artists working in Ghana’s urban centers have spearheaded a popular art genre that has attracted much scholarly interest. Following essays by Nunoo (1974) and Coronel (1975) on canoe painting in Ghana’s coastal communities, the research has expanded to include other related art forms, such as Ga fantasy coffins (e.g., Quarcoopome 2003; Bonetti 2012; Tschumi and Foster 2013). Wolff’s (2000) edited volume, Extreme Canvas, Gilbert’s (2000) Hollywood Icons, Local Demons, and essays by Gilbert (1998) and Cosentino (2009) highlight several painters who use portraiture and visual narratives as commentaries on a range of today’s global social and political issues. Various authors have also explored barbershop and beauty salon signboards and posters (e.g., Kristen 1980; Amegatcher 2004). Ross (2004, 2014) has enriched the literature with essays on makeshift studio façades of street artists, singling out Kwame Akoto (a.k.a. “Almighty God”), as one of the genre’s best-known practitioners.
Problems in Ghanaian Art Studies
As an area of scholarly inquiry, the study of Ghanaian art has long faced epistemological challenges because of how those writing about the visual arts have approached the subject. As I have argued elsewhere, Asante art’s dominance, stemming from a colonial-era preoccupation with that culture, is problematic (Quarcoopome 2019). The initial survey provides ample evidence of this bias.
Non-Asante Akan Art
Despite the rich specificity of a limited number of focused studies of Fante, Akuapem, and Bono art (e.g., Warren 1975, 1976, 1977; Gilbert 1989, 1994; Silverman 1986, 1998), there is no denying that research directed at the visual practices of other Akan subgroups has lagged. Akan art has become synonymous with Asante art. With several non-Asante Akan subgroups yet to receive scholarly attention, there is much work to be pursued dealing with Akan art. Indeed, not identifying subtle and noticeable intra-ethnic differences within the broader Akan bloc undermines the validity of some of the fundamental assumptions that underpin the study of Akan art.
The Visual Arts of Ghana’s “Invisible Majority”
In terms of overall cultural representation in Ghana art studies, there is an even bigger problem: the lopsided scholarship that, for the most part, continues to disregard the visual traditions of the country’s non-Akan cultures, which make up roughly 55 percent of Ghana’s population. This gap in knowledge about these other cultures renders the present canon of Ghanaian art inadequate. Moreover, it does not correctly represent Ghana’s multi-ethnic constitution.
Both Kyerematen and Antubam deliberately promoted Akan art as a framework for writing about Ghanaian art. The resulting bias privileging Akan, specifically Asante, in Ghanaian art research has created the impression that non-Akan cultures are unimportant. However, spread throughout the country’s southern, eastern, and northern parts, non-Akan communities have produced artforms that may be different but no less engaging than the Akan’s. For example, members of the widely dispersed Guan deserve serious scholarly attention, given their aboriginal status in Ghanaian history. Remarkably, Gonja, the largest Guan-speaking subgroup, boasts significant brass casting, ceramic, and wood sculpting traditions that have been mainly neglected. It holds great potential for future art historical research on par with the attention devoted to Asante. Although northern Ghanaian visual arts have garnered some scholarly interest, scholarship has, without a doubt, focused overwhelmingly on the south. This imbalance needs a correction.
The Visual-Verbal Nexus
Kyerematen’s broad influence on the study of Ghanaian tradition-based leadership art is most evident in symbolism studies. His dissertation and seminal book articulated a methodology that noted the fundamental correlation between visual and verbal communication in Akan culture (Kyerematen 1964, 1966). Cole and Ross (1977) built on this vital construct, taking it a step further, and famously labeling it the “visual-verbal nexus.” The Arts of Ghana effectively enshrined the concept as an indispensable interpretive framework for Ghanaian art studies. Ross (1977, 1982), its most vigorous exponent, illustrates its various applications in the interpretation of Akan regalia. Although it remains a critical component in Akan art scholarship, the concept is also prevalent in non-Akan cultures like the Ewe, for whom visual forms correlate with forms of orality, such as poetry and song. Thus, while the visual-verbal nexus remains a useful interpretive tool, there is no question that it needs further expansion.
Who Are the Artists?
Unlike contemporary artists, whose careers figure prominently in the scholarship, tradition-based artists are seldom mentioned by name in the literature, even when their work comes under scrutiny (e.g., Sieber 1972). The absence of artists’ biographies is evident across the traditional art spectrum, creating the erroneous impression that their identities are of little importance in the communities in which they live and work. Ross’s (1984) writing on the Asante sculptor Osei Bonsu (1900–1977), an artist who straddled the traditional and modern, stands out as an exception. His study successfully demonstrates the value of biography for interrogating the visual arts of Ghana. Some of Bonsu’s contemporaries, both Akan and non-Akan, might also have been active during the 1970s but, sadly, researchers missed a golden opportunity to investigate them. A related arena of neglect concerns the study of female artists. The recent dissertation of Sheldon (2016), focusing on women’s artistry in northeastern Ghana and southern Burkina Faso, stands out as an example of work that begins to fill a significant gap in scholarship, dealing with the role of women in the visual arts.
Where Is the History?
Despite the vibrant scholarship so far produced, Ghanaian art still lacks a good history. Except for the limited research on terracotta sculpture and metal arts referenced above, most of the writing on the arts of Ghana is ethnographic, devoid of any historical context. Moreover, very little scholarship considers anything earlier than the late nineteenth century. To date, scholars have relied chiefly on references in pre-twentieth-century European writings to determine the relative age of works of art, even though Jones (1994) has cautioned against relying too heavily on such written sources. Meanwhile, Posnansky (1979) has offered ways to approach art dating, while criticizing art historians’ selective use of archaeological data and the woeful lack of coordination and cross-disciplinary collaboration among material culture and visual art scholars.
Even more significant, any attempts at historical reconstruction must consider the southern bias of Ghanaian art studies. Some exceptional investigations have recognized the north’s interstitial status as the connective tissue between the forested south and the Sudanic north (e.g., Bravmann 1974; Nunley 1977; Prussin 1980; Garrard 1980, 1982; Silverman 1983, 2019). But we have only just begun to appreciate this vital area and its implications for Ghana’s art scholarship. More importantly, Ghana’s weak antiquities laws and porous international borders allow the illegal export of critical historical artifacts in alarming proportions (Kankpeyeng and DeCorse 2004), further complicating the situation. Aside from undermining provenance research, its threat to art-historical research is enormous.
There is no question that the study of Ghanaian visual art today requires a significant paradigm shift to address the lacunae in scholarship and rectify the glaring imbalances referenced above. Decolonizing Ghanaian art research means freeing it from its perennial focus on Asante art. This may be achieved through expanding the existing canon and broadening the scope of inquiry to include more than just collectible art suitable for museum galleries. In Ghanaian visual arts studies, we have barely explored the scholarly potential of the most under-appreciated artistic genres—coiffure, body painting and scarification, costume, dance, and oral literature. Also, the field needs to revisit and rethink its core methodological foundations by ramping up research on lesser-known visual traditions and giving them a voice. We should welcome the current emphasis on contemporary art studies. But for purposes of continuity, cohesiveness, and dialogue, Ghanaian art scholarship must also persevere in advancing knowledge about its historic traditions, because understanding the present requires having a sense of the past.
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