Olu Amoda poses with one of his sculptures installed at Woodruff Park for “Memory in the Material.” (Photo by Jeffrey Moustache)
Wrapped in the bustle of sightseers snapping pictures, blaring car horns and workers on their lunch break, a collection of unique figures stand peacefully — and playfully — in the center of the city.
The sculptures compose Memory in the Material, a collection of works by Olu Amoda presented as part of the Art in the Park series. The collaboration between the Atlanta Downtown Improvement District and nonprofit creative curator Dashboard brings interactive public art installations to Woodruff Park, a staple of Five Points, on a rotating basis.
Memory in the Material honors the notion that energy never dies, said Amoda, a longtime artist and former professor who splits his time between what he calls the “twin cities” of Atlanta and Lagos, Nigeria.
“I encourage people to see things as they are but also for what they were,” he said. “I think of (my work) as offspring from a parent material. The pieces come from somewhere. We can’t forget that.”
Amoda, with memories of being surrounded by the tools of his late father, a master goldsmith, creates from a place of joy. Hearing his own rhythms as he creates takes him back to the “musical” sound of the anvils his father’s apprentices worked with in 1960s Okere Warri, a port city rich with natural resources in the Niger Delta.
His creativity was apparent as a child, Amoda said, though without a dedicated art teacher for most of his primary and secondary school years, he didn’t consider studying art in college right away.
“I applied to other programs, I tried different things, but every time I did, I failed,” he said. Art had to find Amoda, he said, just as his materials do.
Now highly regarded among Nigeria’s master artists, Amoda studied sculpture at Auchi Polytechnic in Auchi, Nigeria in the 1980s. He began his teaching career in 1987 and founded Riverside Art and Design Studios to support artists in Lagos in 2017.
He visited the U.S. a few times before moving for an art residency and to attend Georgia Southern University in 2007, where he earned a master of fine arts.
In his process, he spends hours under the whisper of the trees surrounding his Alpharetta studio, a serene hilltop overflowing with possibilities in scattered piles of nails, bolts, cast iron, railing, metal plates and other bits of machinery around the ground and in his shed. The suspense of what could be is one of his favorite parts of the process. The peacefulness is miles from the restrictive nature of academia that Amoda, a self-described nonconformist, once felt discouraged by.
“They stole my smile; they stole my joy,” Amoda said. “The residency really rescued me from that.”
Many create from a dark place, he said, but Amoda is a happy artist. That’s reflected in such works as the debut of The Real Housewives of Buckhead, a trio of figures within Memory in the Material, made of parts all sourced from Buckhead.
“I don’t take myself too seriously,” said Amoda with a laugh. “We all dance; we all sing; we all laugh. I want people to feel that with my work.”
The works, however, ask and answer questions about consumerism, economic class, human relation to nature and other sociopolitical challenges. The breadth of his other sculpture series’ also explore identity, cultural heritage, colonialism and social change.
The subjects of his sculptures downtown, ranging from giant human figures to a bust made of iron gears to a petite prancing horse, were assembled from scraps of various metals.
“His deliberate and precise placement of everyday materials — items often overlooked by most — draws audiences in and sparks a sense of wonder,” said Dashboard Executive Director Oshun Layne.
The sculptures, among the motley slate of past Art in the Park projects, invite curiosity and have helped elevate the atmosphere of the park, said Noa Hecht, creative placemaking lead at Atlanta Downtown.
Amoda pieces together leftovers into creations that are towering but not intimidating. Despite their bent, broken, hard and rusted parts, the sculptures offer a softness and fluidity in the hips and graceful poses of the female figures; the facial expressions and hairstyles of the bust; and in the way the small horse lifts its tail. Against their dark colors, neon orange accents offer a burst of brightness.
Most would categorize Amoda’s materials as junk or found objects, he says, but “the objects find me. People see discarded materials as junk that is useless or has no value.”
The value of Amoda’s materials is their ability to be manipulated into something new while retaining the energy of their past life. Their latent energy, he said, is reactivated once they are touched.
“I’m very interested in the movement of things, horizontally and vertically,” Amoda said. “For some, when an axis meets, it’s the end of that movement. But, for me, it can be a beginning, a new form. I leave it to the (viewer) to make the connections of what the material used to be.”
Amoda’s work is a testament to how even the most mundane materials can carry the intricacies of the human experience. In his process he shows that transformation, in the right hands and with the right connection, can be a kind of resurrection. He asserts that people can connect deeply to the familiar, even when it’s in a distinctly different and unexpected form.
“There’s a spiritual, magnetic connection to the pieces,” he said. “When I’m hammering, the metals vibrate a certain way; they respond a certain way; they have a dialogue with me. You just have [to] be humble and listen to them. They are incompatible materials, so you can’t force them. When you respect the materials, there’s a harmony in what you’re creating.”
Memory in the Material will remain on view at Woodruff Park through June 18.
Angela Oliver is a proud native of old Atlanta who grew up in the West End. A Western Kentucky University journalism and Black studies grad, daily news survivor and member of Delta Sigma Theta, she works in the grassroots nonprofit world while daydreaming about seeing her scripts come alive on the big screen.
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