Nnena Kalu: Creations of Care

On the threshold of Kunsthall Stavanger, I feel wedged between the busy road behind me and the quietly imposing building in front of me. A monolithic rectangular structure, the pastel coral brick facade sits atop a dust-grey granite base. Stairs lead me up and under the middle of three tall arches, through a shallow alcove and a propped open timber door. The interior of the Kunsthall is bright and quiet, soft whites and greys. Beyond the reception and book store I catch a glimpse of two vibrant chrysalis-like hanging forms. After purchasing a ticket and leaving my jacket and bulky backpack in the basement cloak room, I follow these colourful figures into the main gallery space.

Entering the exhibition I feel welcomed inside, as if by a host, a sensation that grows the longer I stay. Perhaps this feeling emerges from the pleasure of looking at and being in company with Kalu’s sculptures. They are vibrantly colourful and texturally rich, formed by binding, wrapping and knotting long lines of materials around skeletons of flexible plastic tubing. Tangled and trailing, on closer inspection I see strips of neon pink and deep mauve tulle, teal scaffolding net, yellow plastic barrier fencing, brown, primary red and blue paper tape, corrugated cardboard, bright yellow and green paper streamers, and reams of glossy black VHS tape. The majority of the sculptures occupy the main gallery of Kunsthall Stavanger, transforming an otherwise monotone, almost office-like space. The room is defined by grey carpet tiles and bright white walls that sit under a concrete grid structure, hanging from a ceiling punctuated by lights, glossy white air ducts and air conditioners. Kalu’s works not only change this space, into one that is joyful and otherworldly, but are also spatial in themselves – her sculptures evoke cocoon-like enclosures and her drawings portal-like openings.

The exhibition Creations of Care at Kunsthall Stavanger is British artist Nnena Kalu’s first solo show outside of the UK. Curated by Kristina Ketola Bore, it is composed of a series of large suspended sculptures and drawings spread through five rooms. The title refers to the creative process that shapes Kalu’s abundant work – a dynamic combination of energetic movements and carefully deliberated gestures. Both her sculptures and drawings are formed by repetitive actions and the layering of materials over time as each piece is tended to. Through my encounter with Kalu’s work I’m struck by how caring is, and should be considered, a space making process. Creations of Care opened my own reflections on the role of the architect as a space maker, as well as processes of hosting – of access and care – in the context of art institutions.

Wrapping is a process often undertaken to protect, to preserve or to wait to change. The wrapping of a building under construction or an injured body both protects them from external elements and limits its effect on their surroundings as they change or heal. Through the re-wrapping of familiar materials, ones that have been previously used to secure, record, and celebrate, Kalu’s sculptures combine an aesthetics of collapse and care that offer new openings in the space in which they are installed.

The strips of materials Kalu uses to create the sculptures are often salvaged and repurposed. In this instance Kalu began working on the bases of the sculptures in her studio in London, before they were shipped to Stavanger alongside the materials that she used to finish them on-site. They are installed in the exhibition as they are in her studio, to allow them to be raised and lowered as she worked. As method and material blur together, it is the intentional visibility of Kalu’s creative process in the exhibition that makes the gallery environment feel generous.

If caring is a space-making process, then the role of the architect must be considered a caring one. This is an argument put forward by cultural theorist, curator and urbanist Elke Krasny in Architecture and Care (2019)1Krasny, E. (2019) ‘Architecture and Care’, in Fitz, A. and Krasny, E. (eds.) Critical Care: Architecture and Urbanism for a Broken Planet. Boston: MIT Press, pp.33-41., echoes of whose notion of care trouble I find in Creations of Care. Krasny outlines how architecture at its essence is a form of care, providing shelter crucial to survival and the continuation of human life. Despite this, the figure of the architect has historically been that of the independent genius, a productive and autonomous artist, traditionally gendered male. Connectedness, dependency and social reproduction is missing along with the definition of architect as caregiver, a role traditionally gendered female and seen as menial labour carried out by racialized others. Krasny traces this evolution of the role of the architect as shaped by binaries specific to the tradition of Western thought, such as nature/culture, mind/body, productive/reproductive, and dependence/independence. Care trouble describes the threat felt by architects at the end of the 19th century as more women entered the profession.2As described in Stratigakos, D. (2016) Where Are the Women Architects? New Jersey: Princeton University Press. The idea of independence – the autonomous modern architect – was threatened by the association of women with care, domesticity, dependency and reproductive labour. I see care trouble as a disruption of the binaries outlined above, and present in Kalu’s work as it blurs productive and reproductive labour, man-made detritus into nature-like forms.

Connectedness and interdependence are also qualities I found in Kalu’s works, and upon reflection are another reason I felt hosted within the exhibition. Her drawings are never alone, appearing mostly in twos or threes, sometimes in fours and sixes. She makes them together, often with her eyes closed listening, repeating lines of pens, inks, graphites and pastels on large sheets of white, cream or yellow paper, each set exploring a new form. The drawings’ boundaries are set by the reach of Nnena’s arms and in some the texture of her studio walls are visible, as well as remnants of tape or holes in their corners where they were previously fixed. The works are shaped by an interplay of the artist’s body, the method and materials being applied and the space in which they are created. This space is ActionSpace’s studio in Studio Voltaire and, in the case of her sculptures, Kunsthall Stavanger.

ActionSpace is a UK based arts organisation that supports the development of learning disabled artists. Nnena Kalu, who has limited verbal abilities and a learning disability, has developed her artistic practice here since 1999. ActionSpace has dedicated studios and provides weekly guidance and mentoring from specialist art facilitators. Through their exhibition programme, studio artists have the opportunity to exhibit and sell their work and professional development is organised in partnership with other contemporary art institutions.3Find out more at https://actionspace.org/. This is a model that is lacking in Norway. While organizations such as Balansekunst advocate for a more equitable and diverse cultural field, greater discourse on accessibility, established infrastructures of support and dedicated spaces for disabled artists are sorely needed.4In 2023 Kulturdirektoratet published a report outlining how artists with disabilities are excluded from cultural life. Østern, T.P., Olsen, T., Øyen, E., Lien, L. and Holum, L.C. (2023) Tilgjengelige kunstnerskap? Viewed 23 April 2025 <https://www.kulturdirektoratet.no/vis-publikasjon/-/tilgjengelige-kunstnerskap->.5This lack of representation, access and inclusion in Norway is described by artist and curator Aidan Moesby in a 2024 interview with Kunstavisen. Moesby initiated a series of conversations on this topic as part of his guest curatorship at ROM as well as the informal support network Neurodivergent / Funkis Cultural Workers Forum who currently meet every month at UKS in Oslo. Siversten, T. (2024) Norge er ikke inkluderende for de med en funksjonsvariasjon. Viewed 23 April 2025 https://kunstavisen.no/artikkel/2024/norge-er-ikke-inkluderende-de-med-en-funksjonsvariasjon.

Qualities of connectedness and interdependence are fundamental to feminist care ethics and have repeatedly emerged in my own research into accessibility in the arts. This research has evolved from an interest in how spaces, especially art institutions, do or do not host different kinds of bodies. Accessibility in the Arts: A Promise and a Practice (2019)6Lazard, C. (2019) Accessibility in the Arts: A Promise and a Practice, Recess and Common Field. Viewed 16 April 2025 <https://promiseandpractice.art/>.
by artist Carolyn Lazard is a guide for small-scale arts nonprofits detailing how disabled people are excluded from cultural spaces and offering possible solutions that move beyond historical and juridical definitions of accessibility. As outlined by Lazard, accessibility defines if and how much someone can engage with certain resources and participate in cultural, social, political, and economic spheres. It is further a tool for dismantling ableism, creating more liberating spaces, and undoing individualism that is a fiction for both disabled and nondisabled people. The undoing of independence in favour of interdependence is echoed in Mia Mingus’ Access Intimacy, Interdependence and Disability Justice (2017).7Mingus, M. (2017) Access Intimacy, Interdependence and Disability Justice. Viewed 16 April 2025 <https://leavingevidence.wordpress.com/2017/04/12/access-intimacy-interdependence-and-disability-justice/>.
Mingus, a writer, educator and trainer for transformative justice and disability justice, introduces her concept of access intimacy as “that elusive, hard to describe feeling when someone else “gets” your access needs.”8ibid. Access intimacy speaks to the human quality of access, focusing on deepening relationships, rather than logistics, recognising it as a collective responsibility.

Creations of Care reminds me of the intimate relationship between our bodies and our surroundings, and the intent and interdependence that is needed to create more caring and care-full spaces. Just as Nnena Kalu used salvaged materials to transform existing spaces and create new ones, the exhibition brings audiences to question where the self ends and the rest begins.