The Story Told by A Fendika Table

If you have been to Fendika the last couple of years, chances are you have paid attention to these wall installations, made by the artist Tamrat Gezahegne with ingenuity and love. You probably have seen the text in the center, written in Amharic. Even though the installation includes an English translation, how many among the ferenji visitors can say they have actually read the story? (If you did, kudos to you!) We decided to “publish” the art and the story here, so that we can all, like Tamrat the artist, listen attentively to the contemplations by the being on the wall that used to be a Fendika table. Whether we glance at it casually, or carefully study it with curiosity, this being that has journeyed through life and death, is witnessing and contemplating our Fendika stories, too. Don’t believe it? Read on and you might even see yourself in the story!

I used to have so many portraits until I recently became a table. Right now, I am searching for my new name. I know I have gone through immortal paths of life. I started as a seedling in the midst of a forest. Then I grew up and became a big tree and a home to birds and wild animals. My great grand father used to tell me that the triptych birds which descended from the Heaven to our habitat used to inspire Saint Yared with their songs or zema.

I myself witnessed my generation being a shade to the elders, assembling under my generous branches as they were teaching righteousness, virtue and wisdom to their youth, while their kids used to play happily and sleep freely. People from all over the place used to come and treat me affectionately, to the extent of asking me to become their messenger to God. At times, scientists used to visit with their cameras. At other times, herbalists used to come too and took specimen from my branches.

Right now, I know I am searching for my identity. I sometimes ask myself: Have I completed my evolution and wither away? Or, am I yet to explore into the future and continue with my eternal journey? In any case, I know that I am alive, though in a different form. Here is what happened. I got dislocated for the sake of infrastructural development. Many of my friends and I got logged down to become factory products. This is why I said earlier that I still exist though in another form. This is how I became a table and luckily sold to FENDIKA.

Once I made Fendika my home, I took the opportunity to enjoy music, both local and from abroad. I got to tell the truth: I never set a foot to the gallery. The rest is history. In fact, I really committed myself to serve my FENDIKA. Sometimes people sit or stand on top of me, though not intentionally while I was made to serve as a table. Even so, some people accidentally spilled over me their drinks—tej, areke, beer, whiskey – all over me. At times, people stick gums on the back of my stomach. Above all, I shouldered food—tibs, shiro and firfir. I experienced many times smokers stump the butts of their cigarettes and weeds. I carried heavy stuff, from sound mixers to musical instruments, from amp to speakers. In all this, I am so lucky I enjoy dancing to the music. Anyways, like Frank Sinatra’s song, I did it my way.

Many a time, I ponder over the beauty of my journey and talk to myself. It was during one of my meditative sessions that Tamrat, the visual artist who comes to FENDIKA on Mondays and Fridays, listened to me attentively. It was after this momentum that Tamrat became the author of my new existence. He first pulled off my four legs and I ceased to be a table any longer. I was wondering what his intention was. But to my surprise, he put me, along with the three firewoods, the centerpiece of his new installation art work on the wall of FENDIKA.

Now, we are in the new beginning, with a new name and essence. We are no longer a table or firewoods. As a matter of fact, we take this opportunity to announce that we have become family to the work of contemporary art. What a new beginning! And, I wish I was listening to the song of Tracy Chaptman—A New Beginning. Amen.

Art installation: Tamrat Gezahegne

Amharic text: Tamrat Gezahegne

English translation: Dawit Lakew

Photos: Haymanot Honelgne