Photographs of Mali on the Cusp of Independence

We see this, for example, in an untitled portrait sometimes called “Two Ladies of Bamako.” Here, Keïta captures a pair of women—holding each other at the shoulders and the hands—dressed in traditional Malian robe-like garments called boubou. Behind them is a printed-fabric backdrop, and at their feet, a woven rug tessellated with oval patterns. Enveloped in all this optical dazzlement, and cutting across the frame with their bold, frontal gazes, the women are the very embodiment of dignity and power, mirrors of the independence roiling at the heart of the nation.

Keïta’s legacy continues to send shock waves through Mali’s creative world, and through the arena of contemporary photography. He and his younger contemporary Malick Sidibé were among those to turn Bamako into Africa’s cardinal site of image production—and one of the most important loci of photography in the world. (Since 1994, the city has been the site of the photography biennale Rencontres Africaines de la Photographie.) Keïta is lionized in the photo world, and in the art world at large, and rightfully so. But, as with many African image-makers whose work has been accepted by Western institutions, a certain hagiography has been drawn around Keïta’s name which reductively synonymizes it with “African photography.” He and his images are indeed of Mali, but they are more than a mere symbol of Mali. His photographs vibrate with the excess of their ornamentation, with an audacity of presence that exceeds the realm of the emblematic. How radiant is their defiance.

“Untitled,” 1952-55.