꩜   Hammering the metal, a sheet is laid out, its purpose soon to be my skeleton. Taking shears, you carefully cut out my pieces- my lid, body, bottom, foot, and both pieces of my hinge and fastener. You continue to bend my pieces into shape, joining them together by folding, crimping, and riveting. You gingerly apply geometric shapes and figures to my body, punching from the back and front to create my multi-textured skin.  I am finally complete. ꩜

A certain situatedness

By tracing networks of trade, one can begin to understand the circumstances of their production. While unable to be entirely sure of their precise origins, sources suggest that the casting of copper alloys was introduced to this region sometime within the fourteenth century and most likely through the trans-Saharan trade routes. Before this time, their production would have been extremely limited due to the relatively small amount of cast metal in this form that would have been transported to this region prior to the establishment of these routes as well as the geographical separation they experienced as they were primarily located on the southern coast. It is also unclear whether or not these mforowa were only created by the Asante or whether they were a shared artistic output with other groups in the wider region, as inner-group trade was also occurring during this time. European contact came by way of the Portuguese in the late 1400s and later, several other European countries established colonies in order to access the region’s gold.  In 1821, this region, deemed “The Gold Coast,” became a British colony. This colonial contact and subsequent trade was important for the increased production of mforowa in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. 

Raw material in the form of rods and wire were eventually imported to the coast but there is no documented evidence of the importation of raw unworked sheet brass to this area prior to the twentieth century. Instead, Akan metalworks relied on traded European basins, pots, pans, and jugs as raw material to be reformed anew. It was this material that was made into a wide variety of objects, often specifically for use in the gold trade such as spoons, blow pans, or shovels as well as these mforowa.  It is said that the form of the mforowa were most likely derived from Middle Eastern containers that would have made their way into the region via early trade as well. 

Ornamentation and Symbolism

Like any language, the Akan communicated through both verbal and non-verbal cues. These non-verbal signals were primarily expressed through symbols.  The Akan actually promoted the use of symbols over words on many occasions as they believed that spoken language had more opportunities for misunderstanding. The Akan proverb “כbanyansaniyεbu no bεnayεnkano asεm (a word to a wise is enough)” represents this predilection for using fewer words when communicating. These symbols are primarily a translation of thoughts and ideas and work to express their beliefs and value-systems.  Oftentimes, these symbols have proverbs or abstract ideas linked to them.  Some symbols have been well-documented and their meanings are clear– others have little to no known meaning today.

There are three figured symbols on this forowa. On the front, there is what looks to be a flower-like motif.  This symbol could be what is known as the bese saka or a bunch of kola-nut.  This symbol represents affluence, power, abundance, togetherness and unity.  On the back of the forowa, there is a bird as well as a lock and key. Bird motifs are typically known as sankofa in Akan symbolism, although they are usually characterized by a figured bird with its head turning backwards. The sankofa represents the proverb, “Se wo were fi na wosan kofa a yenkyiri,” or roughly, “go back and get it.”  The bird on this forowa does not have its head turned so it can be assumed that it might have a different meaning, although it could perhaps still be connected in some way.  Treasury bags and locks are often featured on these types of vessels, the latter suggesting a sense of security or secrecy, and this forowa is no exception. There is a lock and key motif on the back of this vessel on the left side of the hinge. This focus on security is notable here as it denotes a certain elevation of the object into something used for the protection of whatever may be inside. It is something valuable, whether that be monetarily, culturally, or spiritually.  

Again, the emphasis on the decoration alone seems to suggest that these objects were prestige items, which also points to their significance within the Asante culture. Some sources mention that a large number of extant examples have native repairs which emphasizes their importance and worth as non-disposable objects.  It also suggests that these objects were used over a long period of time. Would they have been used throughout someone’s entire life? Were they passed down through familial lines? All of these questions are still left unanswered, but as will be discussed, perhaps this is how it should be. 

These vessels were most commonly attributed with the function of holding shea butter, and less frequently, gold dust.

This an object with a deep patina. In active use, it is possible that these vessels would have looked a lot different.  Continuous shining through the application of a fat, such as shea butter, would initially keep the metal from tarnishing, although it does suggest a certain amount of corrosion over time.   Picturing the vessel, with its glinting brass body, exudes a sense of luxury which aids in its potential designation as a prestige object. Here, I have included several other extant mforowa, two from the Brooklyn Museum and one from the Metropolitan Museum of Art. These all show the mforowa with different states of patina. 

The figure on the bottom right is an example of a European-made forowa produced specifically for the localized Akan market. They are nearly identical  in form to locally made domed mforowa although they are entirely machine-made. This is evidenced by the seamless nature with no crimping or riveting as well as their machine-engraved decorations. These decorations are just simple straight lines around the body of the object. As with this such vessel, these machine-made mforowa are generally unmarked but they are typically understood to be colonial-era British manufactures. During the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, European manufacturers increased their production of objects for the African trade, many aimed at very specific markets. According to archaeologist Christopher DeCourse, there were clay pipes that copied local designs, glass cowries, imitations of African beads, and tools, such as hoes, that were comparable to local examples.  It is unclear whether or not these other local examples utilized ornate decorations or if, like this machine-made forowa, they were streamlined versions, clearly made for mass-consumption with little to no trace of their cultural symbolism.

How do we, as curators, approach assigning meaning to something made within a culture that no longer exists in the way it once did—temporally and spatially disrupted through centuries of colonial contact with European and other external forces? Our understanding of the cultural frameworks in which such an object originally functioned is inevitably shaped, and in many cases distorted, by Eurocentric historiographical narratives which prompts the critical question: how might we responsibly and thoughtfully bring the object into dialogue with time? In thinking about this question, I wanted to situate this object within a historical and cultural lineage of use. 

In tracing how communities — generationally linked by the enduring need to take care of their bodily form whether that be physically or spiritually — have continually engaged with these types of vessels, we can see these lineages of use. While the form of these containers have evolved, transitioning from hand-crafted and ornately decorated metal mforowa to mass produced and machine-molded plastic containers– their use and symbolic resonance still remain deeply embedded in cultural practice. These lineages of shea processing knowledge-ways, passed from mother to daughter, mirror the broader traditions of bodily keeping. This substance, a moisturizing elixir, serves not only to protect skin and hair, but also to sustain a tactile and sensorial continuity between past and present practices of self-care.

Discussions on Provenance

The “gift” giver, Franklin H. Williams, was an American lawyer and civil rights activist who worked under Justice Thurgood Marshall.  Later on in Williams’ career, United States President, Lyndon B. Johnson, appointed him as the US ambassador to Ghana, where he lived for three years. He was the first Black US ambassador to an African country. It seems likely that it was during this time that he acquired this forowa and a large collection of other Akan objects, including gold weights (shown in the images to the left)– all donated to the Brooklyn Museum. As is typical for collectors of Akan objects, he most likely used this forowa as a container to hold these weights and other objects related to the Akan gold trade.  While discussions around provenance are often fraught with uncertainties and uncomfortable dynamics, it is interesting that someone who so thoroughly championed civil rights, equality, and US- African relations, would go on to collect objects in Ghana, bring them back to the United States when his tenure as ambassador was over, only to give them to a US-based institution — the Brooklyn Museum — rather than back to where they were originally acquired. Even if they were given as diplomatic gifts while abroad, they could still have been returned after his death. While it is understandable that a lot of collectors bequeath their collections to institutions for educational or seemingly “altruistic” purposes, it still feels somewhat antithetical to his life’s work and legacy.