Thenjiwe Niki Nkosi’s Ode to Movement and Athleticism at The Hammer Museum

Thenjiwe Niki Nkosi, ARENA V (2024), Acrylic, vinyl, medium-density fiberboard, sound. Installed dimensions variable. Installation view, Hammer Projects: Thenjiwe Niki Nkosi, Hammer Museum, Los Angeles, February 9–August 11, 2024. Courtesy of the artist and Stevenson, Cape Town / Johannesburg / Amsterdam. Photo: Jeff McLane

By JONATHAN OROZCO July 9, 2024

During the installation of ARENA V at The Hammer Museum, the American-born South African Thenjiwe Niki Nkosi remembers soft words of motivation from visitors as they walked through the lobby into the institution’s galleries.  

“People were invested in me making the work,” she said. “There were people who were encouraging me as they walked through the space. I was under the scaffolding in a weird position trying to paint the bottom of something, [and somebody whispered], ‘It’s really beautiful, it's going to be really great.’”

This was something totally new for her. Like most artists, Nkosi’s studio practice is private, with few exceptions. 

At first glance, this monumental painting in relief looks nothing like a painting. Walking into the museum, the scale is disconcerting. The six figures, either sitting, massaging sore or tender body parts, standing with their arms crossed, looked flat, like a graphic rendering on a screen. But the flatness dissolves into dimension as you approach it. Brush strokes come through, and subtle tonal differences outlining arms, chins, and even toes become obvious. 

The red vinyl background grounds the figures into an illusory space, but it implicates us. Starting from the left, it splits into paths, with one bouncing across walls and at times, the floor. As you climb up the lobby stairs, you enter the realm of the figures. 

The series emerged from Nkosi’s 2019-22 Gymnasium series. “Gymnasium grew largely out of my interest in the architecture and geometry of sports arenas. And when I introduced figures - gymnasts, judges, spectators - it took on another life,” she said in conversation with exhibition curator Ikechúkwú Onyewuenyi.

In style, the artist recalls high modernism in her use of formal traits like color and a strong sense of shape and form. In earlier works from the Gymnasium series, the artist created hard-edge planes of color that bring to mind the abstracted geometries of Kazimir Malevich, and even those painted by Zaha Hadid. 

ARENA V (2024) installation. Courtesy of the Hammer Museum, Los Angeles Photo: Gabriel Noguez

Nkosi’s mural is in relief, with the figures hovering from the wall. A direct inspiration came from Alex Katz’s Cut Outs series, portraying people playing and leisuring on metal cutouts, though, in this piece, the figures are anonymized. They could refer to anyone, not just one individual athlete. 

This absence of an identity allows viewers to project their own beliefs and biases onto the piece, and is a jumping off point to contemplate how sports are shaped by, and shape the world we live in.  

“The regulations, the rules, the structures around sport, sometimes inhibit this very human desire to test the limits, or to express yourself, when to push yourself, and to even compete in a way that doesn't have to be,” Nkosi says. “I'm interested in what competition is. What is competition without strict regulation? And what is it? “What if we divest a little bit from the outcome?” 

In ARENA V, the figures read as athletes at rest, which could imply real women like Serena Williams, Simone Biles, or Maximila Imali. The struggles faced by these athletes reflect larger societal issues like racial and gender discrimination. ARENA V allows viewers to reflect on these issues.  

At the 2018 US Open, Serena Williams lost a notable match against Naomi Osaka, being fined $17,000 after three code violations. Australian cartoonist Mark Knight depicted Williams’ outbursts for Melbourne’s The Herald Sun in what is considered a racist and sexist cartoon, though it was deemed to not have breached media standards by the Australian Press council. 

Gold-winning Olympic Champion Simone Biles stepped away from gymnastics during the Tokyo 2020 Olympics after experiencing the “twisties,” a mental block where competitors lose track of where they are in midair. Although Biles has returned to the sport, she was attacked for prioritizing her mental health. 

Earlier this year, The New York Times reported on the hurdles facing Maximila Imali, an intersex Kenyan runner who was banned from the upcoming Paris Summer Olympics for having naturally elevated levels of testosterone. The 27-year old has said she’s undergone dehumanizing experiences, like having to remove her clothes to undergo a medical examination at a Nairobi hospital, then being told by a doctor that she could have surgery to make her a “pure girl.” She said, “I cannot just destroy my body.”  

In the case of these women, sport competitions have been fruitful endeavors to showcase their talents, but have also caused degrading experiences that attack them based on their bodies. 

Nkosi understands that sports and exercise can be sites of discrimination, but can also encourage pleasure and joy. “I feel like moving is a sacred duty,” she says. “You do it to honor your humanity to whatever capacity you can.”

The artist wanted to acknowledge everyone who assisted her with this installation, as it was a collaborative effort. Commissioned by Connie Butler and Ann Philbin, the exhibition was curated by Ikechúkwú Onyewuenyi. Exhibition design was overseen by Adam Peña, with sound dramaturgy and design by Dion Monti. Andrew Nobbs worked closely with Nkosi, and Zena Zendajas assisted with painting. Josh Vasquez installed the MDF pieces, and along with Chris Martoccia, mounted the vinyl on the wall. WM