exhibition

There are muddied (or are they bloodied?) toothpaste tubes, suspended on pieces of cotton against a swirling river scene.

"What do you think of this picture?" a gallery-goer asks.

"Erm....well, the colours are strong," I say. Actually, the picture -- titled Flesh and Souls -- is disturbing in a Dantean kind of way (which it's probably meant to be). The toothpaste tubes are suicides, I think. Is this supposed to be a reflection of Zimbabwe's plight?

I'm at the opening of an exhibition at the National Gallery (and no, it's not one of two exhibitions shut down by police in Harare and Bulawayo last week). Over samoosas, I meet the provincial director of Zimbabwe's National Arts Council.

"You see, the reason why I'm so pleased with this exhibition is that we went out to the people to get these exhibits," he says.

"It's not like HIFA," the annual Harare International Festival of the Arts. HIFA is a glitzy well-run show with international artistes, musicians, actors and -- so disgruntled locals say -- not many Zimbabweans.

"Our artists actually have to apply to be in HIFA," says the NAC man. "But WE go out to find the artists. Some of them are from really remote places."

It sounds like a reasonable argument, albeit one I've heard before from government people. The thing is though, the gallery's directors have just admitted privately that they couldn't find any new paintings for this exhibition. No-one in the rural areas "has money for paint," I've been told.

So the director -- young, dynamic Elizabeth -- had to 'phone Harare and get paintings hurriedly couriered up to Mutare. So much for fostering local talent.