In a world of increasing moral apathy, we need as many people as possible – artists included, artists especially – to send out wake up calls and reality checks about our collective humanity … that’s what you’ll get when you go to up the north staircase at Tate Britain for Chris Ofili’s Requiem.
Chris Ofili shot to fame in 1998, when he won the Turner prize – the first Black artist to do so – for No Woman No Cry - a homage to Stephen and Doreen Lawrence. Each tear is a picture of Stephen, who was murdered in a racially driven attack, on 22 April 1993. No Woman No Cry is also exhibited at Tate Britain.
Grenfell - in our 💚
Nothing had quite prepared me for Requiem – even though I’d read about it and it has all the hallmarks of Chris Ofili’s work, vibrant colours, broad brush strokes and mythical creatures. As you climb the stairs, it feels like you are looking straight into the flames that engulfed Grenfell tower and cost 72 people their lives. It’s quite overwhelming.
Amongst those who lost their lives in that tragic event was Khadija Saye, a young, extremely gifted Gambian-British artist. Chris Ofili and Khadija Saye had met weeks before at the Venice Biennale, and he still remembers her sparkle, her genuine, honest presence. Her death in the inferno that became Grenfell tower, her home, has a personal dimension and inspired him to paint Requiem.
Khadija Saye is the focal point of the three-part fresco. Her pose, at the centre of the art work, is inspired by one of her own screenprint, Andichurai (2017), in which she holds a Gambian incense pot - a symbol of the possibility of change and transformation through faith.
On the left, as you come up, a prophet-like figure is holding the burning tower, his tears feeding into a river of grief. Through him, Ofili lays bare the horrific reality of what happened in Grenfell on that fateful night. In the third part, a mythical figure floating in a dreamlike paradise, represents redemption, healing, and hope.
7 years already
But seven years on, there is little sign of redemption, healing or hope for survivors and families of the victims. In 2019, the Phase 1 report concluded that the cladding used to cover Grenfell tower was the ‘principal’ reason for the rapid spread of the blaze - yet progress on implementation is lagging. The Phase 2 report is due this autumn. This means that the 58 people and 19 companies who could face charges are unlikely to go to court any time soon - late 2026, at the earliest.
Preventable deaths
Grenfell residents knew things weren’t right and raised their concerns with Kensington and Chelsea (KC) council and the KC Tenant Management Organisation. They were ignored. They sought legal advice, but when legal aid was slashed under the Tories austerity measures, they could no longer afford the legal bills. No doubt, the cuts to firefighting services imposed by then Mayor of London, Boris Johnson, also played their part on the night, as did advice to residents to stay in their flat in the event of a fire, because the building was designed in such a way that fire would not spread.
Tale of two cities
What we saw unfold on the night of 14th June 2014, is a modern tale of two cities. The Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea is the richest in the country – home to people like Cameron and Abramovich. Yet, 1 in 4 children in Kensington and Chelsea live in poverty, unemployment rates are higher than the London average, and it scores poorly on mental health. At the centre of the disparities in housing lies the intersection of race, gender, class and other forms of structural inequalities. Those who died on that night, were disproportionally of poor and migrant origin. In 21st century Britain, their lives are considered expendable.
Housing in crisis
Grenfell laid bare the spiralling crisis in housing. Dwindling stock of genuinely affordable housing, lack of public investment in decent and safe housing, and a huge increase in the private rental market and rent cost. Thank you, Mrs Thatcher, for privatising council housing back in the 1980’s. Your cruel legacy lives on! As a result, women, people of colour, disabled people, migrants, and those who are most marginalised in our communities, are trapped in horrendous accommodation bearing the brunt of London’s housing emergency. What happened at Grenfell tower is part of that very cycle.
Visibility
Too often it’s easy to ignore or conveniently forget these issues, especially if we’re not personally affected. And this is why Chris Ofili’s mural Requiem is essential art – as is Gillian Slovo’s play Grenfell: in the words of survivors, and Steve McQueen film Grenfell, which he shot in the months following the tragedy, concerned that plans to cover the charred structure, would hide it from public view and make it invisible.
Grenfell survivors and families of the victims continue their tireless struggle for justice, keeping the issue in the news and organising regular silent walks. Join them when and if you can and help amplify their message. They deserve justice.
Chris Offili’s mural will be on display at Tate Britain for the next ten years - a constant reminder for us all not to look the other way.
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