On the last Monday of June, I used the highly commendable free bus service of the city of Belgrade to head away from the heart of the Serbian capital to one of its pleasant suburban neighborhoods in search of the Museum of African Art, which I had learned about online. I could not help feeling that there was a certain aptness to the weather for this visit, for it was hot and dry, and the asphalt of the road down which I walked from the nearest bus stop to the museum was actually melting in the heat.
A friend of mine expressed surprise that such a museum existed in Belgrade. I cannot say I was actually expecting to find one there, but its existence did not surprise me. For in the Cold War era, Yugoslavia, of which Belgrade was then capital, took, despite being a communist state itself, a founding role in the Non-Aligned Movement, a movement that sought to keep a distance from the two competing power blocs of Western Capitalism and Soviet Communism, and this movement proved popular in newly-emerging independent states in Africa and elsewhere in the world.
That the museum owes its existence to Yugoslavia’s international political stance at the time is evidenced by a huge anchor that is placed in the grounds of the museum.
The anchor of a slaving ship at the Museum of African Art, Belgrade, Serbia, June 30, 2025. (Photo by A. Peter Dore)
From its accompanying information panel, the visitor learns that this anchor belonged to a slaving vessel and was gifted by the government of Ghana – itself a founding Non-Aligned state – in 1975 to the Yugoslav diplomats and founders of the museum, Veda Zagorac and Dr. Zdravko Pecar. It also states that these diplomats in siting this anchor next to the main entrance to the museum “wanted to underline the strong anticolonial politics of both the former Yugoslavia and the Museum in Belgrade” A plaque next to the anchor also declares that “Yugoslavia never participated in the colonisation of other peoples and because of this (Yugoslavia) was able to be one of the bearers of the non-alignment ideal.”
As for the museum today, whether it normally receives many visitors, I cannot say, but on the day that I went there, having been greeted by the caretaker who turned on the lights for me and from whom I bought a ticket, I was left all alone with the exhibits.
Overall, it can be said to be a museum of an ideal size. There are numerous exhibits arranged well, but all within one hall, allowing the visitor to take them all in before the unwanted feeling of ennui that can be felt in larger museums kicks in. There are information boards with detailed information on the people whose art is displayed. Next to the artifacts themselves, the labels are solely in Serbian, but this presents less of a problem for the non-speaker than may be imagined as they are written in the Latin rather than the Cyrillic Serbian script, and can easily be translated with an app when the words are not such as “maska” which are already comprehensible for the English-speaking foreigner at least.
From an information board at the front of the museum, the visitor learns of the provenance of these wonderful objects. Unlike certain other collections of African Art that are now mired in controversy due to the questionable way in which they were maintained, such as the Benin Bronzes in the British Museum in London, this is a collection started by Yugoslav officials working in Africa and that has since been augmented through gifts from African officials and artists on assignment in Belgrade.
Approaching African art
Before dealing with the exhibits themselves, something needs to be said on the issue of approaching African art as an outsider. An expert in this field, Frank Willett, in his book “African Art,” points out that, “It is important for us not to deceive ourselves into believing that we can understand the intention of an African sculptor simply by looking at his work.” He also maintains, however, that “a great deal of satisfaction can indeed be found in looking at African sculpture without background information.”
Willett augments the idea that the aesthetic response of the beholder matters by drawing upon the artist and collector of African art, Fred Uhlman, who declares of it that “everything I have ever bought is submitted to the same test: does it speak to me and does it move me.” This also seems to me to be the right starting point for an appreciation of any art. It is, of course, not the end of the matter though. For Willett is also right to affirm that “African art is no different from Western art; the greater the knowledge, the greater the enjoyment.”
My piece here derives from how the art of the museum spoke to me and moved me, in the belief that it is impossible that art not be filtered through the subjectivity of its beholder. Nevertheless, in order to attempt to augment this with factual information, I also draw on that provided by the useful information boards in the museum, Willett’s book and elsewhere.
Dogon architectural carvings
The first of the artworks that the visitor will see belongs to the Dogon, a people of Mali. One Dogon work that is particularly impressive is a large decorative pillar that would be part of a special building used by the Council of Elders, the authoritative council of a village.
This pillar is carved from wood and is of a large human figure with an extension rising from its head that looks something like half of a giant spanner. This clearly has the functional purpose of holding a roof beam. As for the figure itself, although it has a totemic masculine face, its relatively naturalistic body is that of a female. This is surely a representation of the equal importance of both men and women to the Dogon.
Nearby, another decorative Dogon wooden pillar is quite different, showing that these people do not feel constrained to express themselves through just one particular form. For here, the pillar looks like a giant ivory pin, with the part for the roof beam this time being rounder, somewhat like a pregnant crescent moon. What makes this pillar very different, though, is that instead of being dominated by one large figure, it has two much smaller ones emerging in relief from the wood, separated by a gap almost their size. The carving of these figures is basic. Indeed, they are almost featureless, but nevertheless, their economic carving has still allowed or even enabled them to seem replete with raw existential human energy.
It is the Dogon decorated doors that are particularly impressive, though. These doors are for granaries or homes. They are decorated with rows of human figures, which, from Willett, we can assume to be representative of Dogon ancestors. However, each figure does not seem to have been intended to have a separate identity, as every one of them on the door is similar to every other in terms of their expression and their stance. As they are there to protect the building, their uniformity suggests an increased power of protection through strength in unity. Once again, though, the Dogon do not seem to be restricted to one artistic style. On one door, all of the figures have broad smiles, yet on another, the expressions are all serious and imposingly profound. On this latter door, these elongated figures strike the perfect balance between naturalistic and geometric representation, and they have the gravitas of giant stone monoliths in wooden miniature.
A carved Dogon door at the Museum of African Art, Belgrade, Serbia, June 30, 2025. (Photo by A. Peter Dore)
African masks
Moving onto masks, Willett laments that those who are “interested in African sculpture are unable to see it is use.” For masks are not static items, whose settings in museums cannot but erroneously suggest. Willett avers that “to isolate the mask is to take it out of its meaningful context, for the mask itself is regarded merely a part of a complex – part of a costume which is danced in to music – and it is only when all these elements are present that the mask comes to life.” Of course, the masks in the museum in Belgrade are displayed in static isolation, which cannot be helped, yet it has gone some way to attempt to ameliorate this problem by displaying some of its masks in front of large photographs in which masks are being ceremonially used.
The masks on display in the Belgrade museum are of very different types. Some are extremely abstract forms of heads, while others are more naturalistic. The masks of the Dan people of the Ivory Coast are extremely attractive in their simplified realism.
A Dan mask at the Museum of African Art, Belgrade, Serbia, June 30, 2025. (Photo by A. Peter Dore)
Others are ornate, carrying a surmounting object, in one case a complete, somewhat cylindrical human figure, and in another a beautiful, slightly tapering geometric board. One particular favorite, though, is a mask of the Senufo, who are mainly also from the Ivory Coast. This mask is one in which the flat concave facial part is completely overshadowed by a superb, stylized, wise-looking, long-beaked bird with geometrically spread wings.
A Senofu mask at the Museum of African Art, Belgrade, Serbia, June 30, 2025. (Photo by A. Peter Dore)
While most of the masks are carved from a single type of wood and are thus monochrome, this too is not a standard, in that others are polychromatic, the Dan masks have white eye slots. There is even a mask of the Bambara, from Mali, that is inlaid with gold or a golden metal. Indeed, the masks of the Bambara are particularly exquisite.
A Bambara mask at the Museum of African Art, Belgrade, Serbia, June 30, 2025. (Photo by A. Peter Dore)
The golden one and others are beautifully geometric, horned animals carved with an amazing accomplishment. As Willett notes, “Horned animals are the most valuable creatures to be sacrificed,” and the beauty of their representation in the masks reflects their high worth.
There is a mask from the Ivory Coast with circular, slightly protruding eye sockets that I could not help but find disturbing, though. Whether the mask is intended to be in some way ominous, I cannot say, but for me, with my own learned associations, it has a chilling resemblance to a gas mask from World War II.
A mask from the Ivory Coast at the Museum of African Art, Belgrade, Serbia, June 30, 2025. (Photo by A. Peter Dore)
Carved figures
As for the carved human figures, Willet’s observation that “a feature of African sculpture which has intrigued scholars from the first is that the head is commonly represented to be disproportionately large” proves true in the collection in the museum. I feel this may simply be due to the relative importance of the head as the exclusive home to four of the five senses and the seat of the mind, human intelligence being what sets us apart from other creatures. Moreover, the importance of the head vis-a-vis the body is also subconsciously expressed by anyone today, such as myself, who, for a profile photograph, does not use their whole body but just their upper part or head. It is also to be noted that the overly large head in this art is not a prerogative of sculptured male figures. Indeed, the museum informs its visitors that in the case of the ancestor figures of the Bambara, it is far more common for them to be female than male. These female figures, alone or with a child reflecting a maternal role, have surely been carved to reflect female strength and seem a repudiation of any concept of male supremacy. It is also the case that while the figures are naked, this reflects their innate power and not any sense of eroticism; the titillating objectification of women, which has cursed so much Western art, is completely absent here.
Displayed on her own is one particularly powerful carved female Bambara figure.
A female Bambara figure at the Museum of African Art, Belgrade, Serbia, June 30, 2025. (Photo by A. Peter Dore)
She has a sturdy physique with muscular hips and legs and conical breasts, but the eyes of the viewer are drawn to the top of the figure. The expression in her elongated face gives off a balanced aura of being both wise and resigned to her existence, her wisdom perhaps coming from her acceptance of her fate. Her beautifully decorated arms that rise straight up to the side of the bowl resemble carved beads on a straightened necklace and are exquisite. The bowl is balanced perfectly upon her head, yet the straightness of her arms holding its side shows she is the protectress of what she carries.
Then there is a Bambara male figure that is also very striking. He is on a triangular plinth all by himself. He is a stolid figure with a prominent nose and a skull cap atop a head whose face is surely to be understood to be tattooed. This figure is not intrusive but has a self-contained power that makes him compelling.
Although the figures that I have chosen are abstract to a greater or lesser degree, they are still clearly recognizable as human types. Other examples of Bambara art on display in the museum manifest abstraction to a far greater degree when all but what is essential in the figure to the artist has been removed.
It is also the case that the exhibits in the museum are not limited simply to human figures, however realistic or abstract. One object is particularly delightful. This is made by the Senufo and is a smoothly-carved tortoise, striking also that wonderful balance point between realism and geometric abstraction.
A carved Senofu tortoise figure at the Museum of African Art, Belgrade, Serbia, June 30, 2025. (Photo by A. Peter Dore)
It appeals to the eye of the beholder as it engages their innate predisposition for symmetry. For, with the exception of the bend in its small tail, the two halves of the tortoise mirror each other, and the shell on its back even has a checkerboard pattern. This object perhaps once again symbolises the primacy of the mind, for according to the expert of African mythology, O. B. Duane, the tortoise in African myth is a creature that is “shrewd and clever” and proves successful in its endeavours against opponents that are “much larger and stronger.”
Bambara work of pure grace
I want to end my piece with what to me is the star exhibit of the museum. This is once again a Bambara piece.
A carved Bambara mask at the Museum of African Art, Belgrade, Serbia, June 30, 2025. (Photo by A. Peter Dore)
It is a mask that is beautifully carved and extremely graceful. It is akin to the abstract horned animal masks mentioned earlier, but in this case, there are two heads rather than one. They both emerge out of two elongated, curved necks and are horned and bowed over in an attitude of humility. It suggests to me the unity and harmony of the sexes achieved not by one dominating another but by the common humbling of themselves to the spiritual force that pervades the universe.
I have only given here a taste of what this fantastic museum has to offer, being guided, as the information board reveals the collectors for it were, by what it terms their “affinities and fascination with certain types of artifacts.” A visitor with differing penchants could easily find their preferences met in items that I have not mentioned here. Indeed, there is such a variety of art of such high quality on display that this museum is well worth taking the time to visit for anyone who finds themselves in Belgrade.