Roundtable: Mbaye Diop, Annie Jouga, Carole Diop & Nzinga Mboup, Matthieu Jaccard

Event date: February 9th, 2023 at 7 PM

METAMORPHOSIS OF DAKAR :

HISTORY AND STORIES OF A CITY OF CONTRASTS

Mbaye Diop, Annie Jouga, Carole Diop & Nzinga Mboup, Matthieu Jaccard / Moderated by Jennifer Houdrouge.

9 February 2023

Jennifer Houdrouge: This round table is organised as part of Mbaye Diop's exhibition, Balle de Match, which is taking place at Selebe Yoon following his two-month residency. The aim of this round table is to hear the opinions of architects, researchers and art historians on the issues raised in Mbaye Diop's exhibition, and to share our thoughts on the architecture of Dakar. Balle de Match takes as its starting point the architecture of Dakar through a series of films, animations, drawings and paintings. Mbaye is interested in the architectural confrontations that can exist in Dakar: between traditional forms, models inflicted by colonial history and the concrete constructions. The symbol of the tennis match is used in his work to evoke the state of competition that inhabits the city. While he’s currently based in Geneva, Dakar remains the main subject of his work. Mbaye, how important was it to approach, question and study the architectural history of Dakar ? Why did you decide to explore this city in your work ?

Mbaye Diop: The starting point for this reflection began, if I'm not mistaken, in 2010, when I graduated from the École des Beaux-Arts in Dakar. My dissertation was about waste management in the urban space of Dakar. I worked on this subject for four years, thinking about why there is so much rubbish in Dakar, why the city is under pressure from all the rubbish, all the piles, all the unfinished business. I wanted to see how the city behaved by studying Dakar's rubbish, by going around the different districts of Dakar. I'd look at the rubbish and pick out anything that seemed interesting in the rubbish of each neighbourhood to see the standard of living of these people. I was particularly interested in shoes. For example, in Almadies, shoes thrown away in the rubbish would not be the same form of expression as shoes thrown away in Pikine. And I studied the graphic evolution, how long those shoes had been worn, how many people had used them, which led to the exhibition just afterwards at the Blaise Senghor Cultural Centre on the theme of worn shoes. So, in the end, it's not a new theme. Matthieu suggested I do this work on architecture because he'd seen the film Colobane. Colobane, because I used to live in that district and when I was still at the École des Beaux-Arts, I got my first mobile phone so I could film and take photos. Every time I went to Colobane, I'd take photos and make bits of film. When I arrived in Switzerland, I wanted to make a film about Colobane, because it's a place that means a lot to me. I made the film during the Covid period, and the emphasis was on the dynamic aspect of this market, its transformation, its organic side. For me, the Colobane market is like the architecture of Dakar, which changes all the time, where nothing is fixed. It goes back to my early research into waste management in Dakar, elements that are present in the urban décor, where you often find piles of rubble in front of a building, or piles of rubbish. Which means that nothing is finished, nothing is finished, nothing is finished. Everything is continuous. I often compare it to Heraclitus' saying that everything moves, everything becomes. For me, Dakar is really a city in the making. It's like modelling clay, and anyone can give it the shape they want.

Jennifer Houdrouge: It's very interesting because there's a really sensitive approach to the city. This idea of a perpetual building site reminds me of the debris salvaged from the historic Le Dantec maternity hospital building, which was destroyed during your residency. It raises the question of heritage and heritage preservation. Annie, would you like to comment on this from an architect's point of view?

Annie Jouga: It's true, the city is moving. There's something that gives Dakar its identity. And maybe that's why we need to wake up, so that this identity can remain. Dakar's identity is a succession of different things that come together and respect each other. I mean, there are many stories to be found in Dakar, and you may have to go looking for them, but they do exist. Carole and Nzinga will talk about it better than I can, the first traces of the city of Dakar with the history of the traditional districts, called Penc. And then the colonial administration came in to grid the city. We see a succession of histories, of architectures that intertwine, that respect one another and speak to each other - and I think that's what makes the city. It's not so much chaos. I think there are chaotic places, there are chaotic moments, but in Dakar, compared to many other cities, we're lucky to have this history. It's true that it can disappear, but I don't think it will disappear just like that. We all need to think about this. The creators that we are, the designers that we are, how we are in this city. It's not a Senegalese story, it's not a Dakar story, it's the story of a city. But there are also bigger disasters. I remember the teachers who used to tell us the story in Belgium: after the war, architects were called morons, because there was a movement of Belgian architects who had decided that everything had to be demolished. So it's not really a Senegalese story, it's a story in general. These problems are everywhere. There needs to be a global vision, political visions that are associated with as many professionals as possible, not just architects, because the city is not made by architects but by many other people as well. People always blame us, saying that it's the architects. Fortunately, the city is made by many others. So all these people have to hold together this vision, and ensure that, indeed, the identity exists for generations to come.

Jennifer Houdrouge: You said something that I'll keep in mind because it ties in with the conversations we had yesterday. The fact that the city is described as a chaotic space, in terms that are considered pejorative. How can we interpret the city, particularly through the eyes of people who have never been to Dakar ? How can we distinguish traditional constructions such as the Penc from irregular and undesirable spaces ? Carole and Nzinga, could you tell us what a Penc is and why it is important ?

Carole Diop: I'd like to pick up on what Mbaye said. I feel that observation is very important in his work. Observation is precisely what led us to the research we've been doing since 2019, which is called DAKARMORPHOSE. As one wanders around the city discovering the spaces - we've been interested in these Penc, which I'll summarise by describing them as traditional Lebou villages, but it's much more than that. A Penc is where the community meets. You could say that right now, we're forming a Penc. For example, if I take the case of the Penc of Mbot, the descendants of a common ancestor founded this Penc. Each Penc is linked to a particular family. We are interested in these spaces by asking how the city has evolved around these structures and how these structures constitute pockets of urban resistance and are an important form of African urbanity, which is present and remains in place. And what are the mechanisms that keep these Penc in place, even if they are much reduced today ?

Nzinga Mboup: Carole and I are Senegalese. I didn't grow up here, Carole grew up here, and we both studied abroad. Before CUAD and another public school reopened, there was no school of architecture in Dakar for a long time. We're in a context where many architects have studied abroad, and who, apart from their personal experience of the city, don't understand it as professionals. So I think that we, and I in particular when I returned to Senegal, were driven by a desire to understand the city from an urban and architectural point of view. The Lébous community interests us, as they are considered to be the indigenous people of Dakar. Above all, it's very interesting to see that the origins of the 12 Penc are here in the Plateau, considered to be the centre of Dakar. Through our research, we're trying to imagine what the Plateau looked like and how it has changed over the years. We're living through different processes of transformation, like the whole history of Dakar - because of the 12 original villages, only 6 remained in the Plateau and 6 were moved to the Médina following a political decision on spatial migration in 1914. Subsequently, migration continued into the city. The people of Fann Hoc or Colobane came from the Penc of Hock, which was last located on avenue Lamine Gueye. Before that, they came from the village of Tan. We can see that these migrations are continuing, and that creates a running thread through the city. And overall, I think that the idea of Dakar as a chaotic city means that when you look at the history of Dakar, its planning, evolution and expansion, there has been a form of urban planning. In any case, it responds to certain urbanisation logics that we can learn from. I take the example of the SICAPs in the context of another project, "Habiter Dakar", which shows an interest in the issue of housing. The territorial history of the SICAPs and SN-HLMs, for example, tells us about a large part of the city, from the centre to the north. When you look at the different areas of Dakar, you can see a history, a logic. Of course, in the evolutionary processes that are still underway, I think we can see that architects are still very much absent. We are a country with fewer than 300 practising architects, registered with the Order. So that also raises the question, of course, of where we fit in. But I think that for the architects based here, understanding the city is very important. This work of research and history enables us to do this, and I hope to contribute to making architecture more responsible for its environment.

Jennifer Houdrouge: Mathieu, you're based in Lausanne and the various events you've organised are called "Learning from Dakar". What's in it for you, living in Switzerland, to learn from Dakar ? What have you learnt from Dakar ?

Matthieu Jaccard: It's my first time in Dakar. Jennifer, you mentioned Daniel Sciboz - he's a friend of mine who knows Senegal very well through family ties. He taught for a year at Sup'imax, and he teaches at various media design schools in Switzerland, including HEAD in Geneva. When he came to Dakar to teach for a year, he met many people from the art scene and the architectural world. He saw the work of Carole Diop and Nzinga Mboup, DAKARMORPHOSE. In Switzerland, between 2000 and 2010, there happened to be two Pritzker Prizes: Herzog & de Meuron and Gert Zumthor. There was something of a vogue for Swiss architecture in the early 2000s. Switzerland was interested in what was being done in different parts of the world. There was a research institute founded by the Federal Institute of Political Science in Zurich, the Studio Basel, headed by Pierre de Meuron. This studio studied the world's major cities, because it's a subject that doesn't affect Switzerland, but at the same time, cities are growing all over the world and we, as architects, are interested in taking part in the debate. There were several semesters in different cities around the world, each time in megacities: Nairobi, Cairo, Mumbai and so on. The result was a book, African Modernism, led by the architect Manuel Herz. When Daniel Sciboz came to Dakar, he saw DAKARMORPHOSE, but he also saw African Modernism at the Goethe Institut. This expression, already heard in Switzerland, is conveyed by Swiss researchers to Swiss students - but this research never reaches the cities where it was carried out, like Dakar or Nairobi. This was the start of the "Learning from Dakar" project: the return of Daniel Sciboz from Dakar to Switzerland. We are very interested in the relationship between Switzerland and colonialism. It's a subject that's been increasingly debated in Switzerland for the last fifteen years. There was this idea that Switzerland has no access to the sea. It's not like France, it's not like the UK. For a very long time, Switzerland has been a haven for banks, big business and mercenaries. But Switzerland did play a part in the colonial question. With this in mind, Daniel Sciboz asked me to set up a series of events bringing together architects and artists from Dakar. To begin with, we invited Carole Diop and Nzinga Mboup. Then we invited The School of Mutants, a collective founded in Dakar by Hamedine Kane and Stéphane Verlet-Bottero. They worked with Oulimata Gueye, who set up the "UFA - l'Université des Futurs Africains" exhibition in Nantes. Then we invited Mbaye Diop for a performance because we'd seen his film Colobane. All of a sudden, there was a series of protagonists saying very interesting things about a city we knew by name, but not really. And so after the invitation to Carole and Nzinga, we invited The School of Mutants. And the funny thing was that we suddenly realised that there were a lot of links between Switzerland and the films of Djibril Diop Mambéty. Mambéty's last two films, La petite vendeuse de soleil and Le franc, were produced by a Swiss woman. And the head of the camera for Touki Bouki is Contras' City, also Swiss. We were able to invite a lot of people to Lausanne, which was a kind of high point in terms of what we could learn from Dakar. I talk about the DAKARMORPHOSE research all the time, because the idea of saying that there is a very colonial heritage in Dakar, which we hadn't talked about very much, but which is so brilliantly enhanced by its studies, I think that's something we can learn a lot from.

Jennifer Houdrouge: What's interesting, from our discussions, is to learn that, for example, the Musée Dynamique in Dakar is a reproduction, in a way, of the museum in Neuchâtel, isn't it ?

Matthieu Jaccard: Yes, let's say that this story is about Switzerland's place in the world. Switzerland means international organizations, it means 8 million people, it means Nestlé, it means 33% of the world's petrol is traded in Geneva, it means SIM, a major concrete company based in Switzerland. And Switzerland is also home to international organizations such as UNESCO (the League of Nations was based in Geneva before the UN moved to New York after the Second World War). Many experts of Swiss nationality found themselves in different parts of the world at the time of decolonisation, and particularly in Senegal. Senghor's main adviser on cultural issues at the time of independence was a Swiss called Jean Gabus, who was director of the Musée d'Ethnographie in Neuchâtel.

Jennifer Houdrouge: So that would imply that Dakar was a laboratory for architectural and urban experimentation, which leads to the next question: Is there an identity for Senegalese architecture ? Annie, I know that through your teaching, you have worked to ensure that students can develop a model that is specific to Dakar, and that they unlearn in a way the models they learnt abroad.

Annie Jouga: The city of Dakar has an identity. And within that identity, there are architectures that stand side by side. It's not Senegalese architecture, it's the architecture of the city of Dakar. A city's identity is made up of a number of things that come together and create an osmosis. It ranges from the few rare cheese vendors in Dakar, inherent to the peninsula, to the colonial house, to the Selebe Yoon building dating from the 1940s, to all the 20th century architecture of the large housing estates. The Place de l'Indépendance is the identity of Dakar. The SICAPs are the city's identity. The SICAPs date from the 1950s. That's the identity of the city of Dakar. Senegalese architecture - let's call it traditional architecture - can also be found in Senegal. In the 70s and 80s, there was an architecture based on what was neither defined nor codified, but which was a philosophical principle enunciated by President Senghor, "asymmetrical parallelism". And everyone wanted to know what it was, what asymmetrical parallelism was. To define it, asymmetrical parallelism is not an architectural principle, it's a way of being. It's a way of being ourselves, both in architecture and in other cultural fields. Senghor created this concept and architects in the 1980s tried to express it in one way or another - resulting in many of the buildings found at the University of Dakar: the amphitheatres, the library, the archives, the CICES that everyone talks about. There were other buildings, some of which have been demolished, notably that of the Department of Urban Planning and Housing on Avenue Roosevelt. It's a trend that has tried to become the "Senegalese architecture". What we're supposed to teach our students, first of all, is to look at what's going on around them, in Senegal and then elsewhere, far beyond. I don't think we should focus them on that, but rather direct them towards research, both in laboratories and in the most appropriate material, which will correspond or respond more to a form, a way of living and a way of being. I don't think we can talk about Senegalese architecture, because it's so reductive to look only at our little Senegal, which is a very recent invention, too recent, to make an architecture out of it.

Nzinga Mboup: I find the discussion about Senegalese architectural identity very interesting, because you're a practising architect, and I'm very interested in that. And indeed, I'm happy to talk about it. I'm thinking of the most singular effort to define Senegalese architecture. I saw it in the 1978 city planning law, which talks about a number of quite interesting things. The asymmetrical parallelism is certainly open to interpretation, but I understand it as a question of rhythm, a slightly different geometry, which could also be found in music, and not just in architecture. There are other elements that speak to this text, including the architectural elements of Sudanese-Sahelian inspiration. I always read it at first, interpret it as very stylistic references. There were more prescriptions, even on colour, for the colours of the buildings, which had to be earthy or Sahelian colours. And someone pointed out to me, much later, that there was a kind of desire for bio-climatic architecture in this text. That was their interpretation, because Sudano-Sahelian is a climatic continuity. In the exhibition, seeing the wreckage of the Le Dantec maternity hospital and its destruction is a tragedy for many reasons that are open to debate. Seeing the rubble and seeing a pile of concrete, and seeing all these old, destroyed buildings that we're talking about now, and thinking about their materiality becoming just concrete, and at the same time Mbaye talking about the waste of the city, and its transformation, the waste of these buildings. What happens to them, what happens when you demolish a building made of concrete, tarpaulin or cement ? What happens to all the rubble ?

Carole Diop: I'd just like to pick up on the question of the city as a testing ground. In my opinion, yes, Dakar was, because many of the architects who built buildings in the early twentieth century, the city's first buildings - the Chamber of Commerce, the Prefecture, which was the first boys' school, the Town Hall, the first Law Courts, which is now the Ministry of Foreign Reforms - were architects who came from France, who had either graduated from school or spent some time in France and who came here to experiment. But I'm going to pick up on what Annie was saying, which is that we're in a city where we're lucky to have a wealth of architectural styles. You can go from a shop in Kermel to an Empire-style building, like the Town Hall, to a tower, like the BCEAO tower or the Fayçal building.

Jennifer Houdrouge: Absolutely, and I think that was the aim of this exhibition, to propose a wandering through buildings, through districts, even through buildings that have been destroyed, and represented in a ghostly form. Mbaye, how did tennis come to be used as an image to talk about architecture ?

Mbaye Diop: So, in relation to this tennis metaphor, when I started thinking about this subject, the first documents I consulted mentioned where the colonists had settled in Senegal and I wanted to see their activities. From an architectural point of view, I realised from consulting these documents that the first forms of construction were constructions imported from France. These were typical French building styles to facilitate, I wouldn't say integration, but the well-being of all these French civil workers. That's the first element. The second element is their workspace, which was concise or laid out according to a French model. And the third element is the discotheques or bars that these people frequented, also designed according to a French model. And finally, the fourth element was the tennis court. These people had a tennis court where they could play, where they could practice this sport. Before they arrived, there was perhaps already an architecture, a way of living or a way of building that existed. So how are these two elements going to live together ? Perhaps there will be competition between these two forms of architecture. We might use the term indigenous architecture and colonial or modernist architecture, whatever you want to call it. I've started to insert this metaphor of competitive tennis. I observed Dakar and around a building built during the colonial era, especially near the markets, there are several ephemeral constructions that are grafted onto these architectures. It's as if they're all gathered around a big tree. The most illustrative example is the Kermel market. There's the building, which is quite imposing and very beautiful, and all around it there are ephemeral constructions made by the merchants or by people who want to find their place. This form of confrontation, this struggle, this form of exchange is like a tennis match where there isn't actually a ball. Everyone is trying to show that they are there, in a climate that remains fairly joyful. I used to walk around the city with my tennis racket and every time I saw someone I'd ask them "Can you play tennis here in the street” ? And I'd photograph or film them, and then I'd redraw with as few lines as possible to accentuate the experience of the person's body expression or face. In Dakar, there isn't much space to play in. People are much more outdoors than indoors. So, does the way the house is built and the way it's laid out really meet our aspirations ? Why are we outside all the time ? Why don't we stay inside our homes ?

Annie Jouga: The title Balle de Match (Match Point) caught my attention. What is the match point ball in tennis ? I don't play tennis, but I think it's the last ball that determines the winner. So I wonder who wins ?

Jennifer Houdrouge: Yes, and what's more, the title suggests that the end is nigh. What's also interesting is that in most of the works, the ball is absent, they're people waiting to play.

Nzinga Mboup: Speaking of Dakar, which is spread out in an urban continuum, I think the boundaries are quite clear, simply from a geographical point of view. It's a rather particular form of peninsula, with lakes and marshes. So I think the expansion of the city is very much limited by its geography. I think that, from my point of view, it's very defined and very limited. And that's also to some extent the reason why the city is becoming increasingly vertical. I live in an R+5, and the R+5 building next door has just been demolished. I wonder what's coming next. It's not just low-rise houses that are being demolished now, it's buildings too. And I think that this should also prompt us to think about how this city is going to change, and how far it can go, because I think that its expansion is limited, in fact. Unfortunately, or fortunately.

Annie Jouga: There are the outskirts of Dakar, Dakar is not Rufisque, Rufisque is not Guediawaye, Pikine is not Rufisque, and so on. Things are pretty circumscribed. And then we have natural boundaries, our corniches. And I think we can and must save this identity. The city has an identity. Because this identity is rooted in history. Today, we have to work on a different scale, we have to work vertically. And be part of this Dakar. What is the Order of Architects doing ? It's true that the Order of Architects should have something to say, but I don't think it's just the Order of Architects, there are many individuals in associations. We always blame the baby on the so-called professionals - it's true that the Order of Architects doesn't play its part, I agree - but as individuals we all have to react too. Once again, the city is not just a matter for architects, it's a matter for everyone. If we think that demolishing the maternity of Le Dantec or the Sandaga market, or the CICES, which dates back to 1974, poses a problem, then everyone must be able to express their views in one way or another. It's not just the responsibility of the profession, particularly of the architects. Perhaps that's what's lacking in Senegal too. I don't really like to say civil society, but there are associations denouncing this land grab. All the baobab forests are being divided up, sold and bought. Baobab forests are part of our heritage, all the more so when you consider what they can contribute in terms of sustainability and climate. So we're seeing more and more of these associations, particularly on the Ouakam coast, and there are associations on all the coastlines. And when we demolish a building, in the same way, I think we should be able to talk to each other in groups. The networks here work very well, as they do all over the world. I mean, it's also an opportunity to express ourselves. It's true that not everything can be saved or safeguarded, but I don't know if you know, the whole area around the Place de l'Indépendance, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs that you mentioned earlier, all that is at risk of being demolished. There are some great foreign architects working on buildings that are due to be demolished. The same applies to Avenue Peytavin, where there are century-old cedar trees and military-style buildings all the way up to Sandaga.

Matthieu Jaccard: I think the strength of Mbaye Diop's work lies in showing the interaction between society and architecture. The DAKARMORPHOSE shows how the shape of the Penc, if I've understood it correctly, is not just a construction, a way of shaping space, but also the expression of a complexity of internal relationships in a society. I'm working on the question of architects' associations, such as the International Union of Architects, which was founded in Lausanne in 1948. Today, this association represents hundreds of thousands of architects around the world, because every member of an architects' association becomes a member of the International Union of Architects. And in Dakar, there are 300 people who can be represented by this association. Then, in a school like the one in Lausanne, 300 people a year graduate with a qualification that allows them to take part in international competitions. And I think it's important not to suddenly say, here's how we can adapt Dakar to what's being done, in a general way, what has already been established, like an order of architects somewhere. I think it's more important to look at what Dakar has, and perhaps this notion of identity and integration. What has held up in this competition, in this match that's still going on, that could perhaps save us? I think it's more important to focus on what has been done, what has been miraculously preserved, and what might enable us to get through. We organised three round tables with Carole and Nzinga. The first was about DAKARMORPHOSE. In the second, Nzinga showed the work of Worofila, how you can work with earth rather than concrete. It's interesting because it's in line with initiatives that are also being taken in Switzerland to avoid building with concrete. Then we worked on the question of Dakar in image and the strength of this city when you don't separate the architecture from the rest.

Nzinga Mboup: I think that all these conversations lead us to question the people who ultimately make the city. When we study housing in particular, we see the evolution of different types of housing that are more or less planned and respond to certain logics. And one of the things, one of the elements that is a little more political if we think on a larger scale, is the evolution over the years... There are houses, there is traditional architecture with the Penc, there are colonial houses with colonisation. In 1951, the SICAPs were created, at the time of independence, and they continued to grow until around the end of the 1970s. And events such as the oil crash, the creation of the Housing Bank and the International Monetary Fund show how weak the State can be in providing for and, ultimately, building cities. I think there was a change in the 1980s and 1990s, with structural adjustment programmes, devaluation, and a decline in state control. It was hoped that the state could act as a regulator. But increasingly, when you look at Dakar, you have to look at who's building. Who are the developers? It's the private sector. One very easy way to make money is to build increasingly luxurious housing. And it's also a refuge. So that's one of the problems, one of the weaknesses. And on the other hand, there's always the city that's built by people for survival, as a functional city. I can only speak as an architect, so perhaps to my fellow architects, but certainly also to society, to the inhabitants, to the people who occupy the city, to at least be able to question what could be. Because there have been examples that have shown us that we could have had a different city. And I think it's important to have a global vision, and not just the juxtaposition and succession of individual projects for financial reasons, for financial gain and not urban gain. We've seen it last winter. We need to think hard about how we can build together to make the city liveable.

Jennifer Houdrouge: Absolutely. A global vision where everyone has the right to think about the city, and artists can also have their own vision of the city to imagine it.

Mbaye Diop: I think the interesting thing is just to raise the issue, to invite everyone to think, not in the same direction, but to think together about all these questions. To be honest, I don't have any answers about the future of architecture in Dakar. It's just an observation, just questions that I share with the public, with everyone. And everyone takes what they want to take.

Annie Jouga: Just to react a little to the question, I would say that there are initiatives being put in place and there are ways of inventing and adapting differently. Nzinga and Carole have put forward some ideas on this subject and have begun to suggest possible solutions. I think that above all we need to build intelligently, build with... I'm not going to say local materials, but I'm going to talk about bio-sourced materials or materials available here, whether it's earth or cement. And you can do that whatever material you use, and build forms that are adapted to the needs of the residents. And I think that this is the kind of response that "Habiter Dakar" is starting to initiate, but also reflected in their architectural practice and the fact that they are proposing bioclimatic architecture.