Addis's Easter Art Bonanza

Apr 20 , 2025. By BEREKET BALCHA ( Fortune Staff Writer )

Passing through the grand foyer of the Sheraton Addis, I expected “The Art of Ethiopia” to be a premium event. The art scene in Addis is quietly transforming. No longer confined to a privileged few, it now spans generations and backgrounds. A new generation of Ethiopian artists is shaping a collective vision. And it is dazzling to behold, writes BEREKET BALCHA.

Passing through the grand foyer of the Sheraton Addis, I expected “The Art of Ethiopia” to be a premium event. But what I saw exceeded all expectations. Hundreds of people, mostly young, swarmed the ballroom entrance. Inside, the sheer volume of artwork, and the energy of the crowd, was overwhelming.

A sign prohibiting photography caught my eye. The pieces were not only fresh on display but also actively being bought. The caution signaled a shift: art in Ethiopia is no longer a passive indulgence – it is being protected, collected, and valued. Art collection is no longer a niche hobby. It is a growing pursuit, reflecting changing tastes and a deeper appreciation of visual culture.

One piece stopped me in my tracks: Behind My Mind by Selamawit GebreTsadik. A dreamlike forest alive with daisies and winding branches, it felt like a subconscious sanctuary. Selamawit, a social worker and philosopher, brings emotional depth to her work that resonates. An Ethiopian-American couple beside me shared my awe. A crowd gathered. The ushers called Selamawit over, and just before a European collector pulled her aside, she handed us pamphlets to her Kineselam Art Studio.

Another of Selamawit’s works showed a young girl role-playing motherhood, piggybacking a teddy bear. Surrounded by a tangle of lines and colour, the child seemed determined to mirror her mother’s journey. A teenage painter and her mother, moved by the piece, joined me as we wandered to the next standout painting.

It was “Identity Protection” by Kidist Berhane. Kidist was not present, so we were left to interpret the layered symbolism. The work showed women in contrasting roles: one praising the heavens in gratitude, another bowed in duty, preserving ancestral traditions. A particularly haunting figure sat at the bottom: tattooed, eyes closed, clutching a black crystal ball dripping what appeared to be blood.

It was dark, meditative, and enigmatic. The teenage girl explained its symbolism so clearly that her mother and I were stunned by what we had missed. As we discussed the piece, I sensed something familiar about her mother. She mentioned growing up near Sar Bet, and I guessed she might be one of the twin sisters I once knew.

For a moment, I doubted myself, until she confirmed everything – down to my mother’s name. She was indeed Medhanit Legesse, sister of Mary Legesse, twins who come from old close family friends. Her daughter, Markan Yared, showed me some of her work on her phone; an impressive talent for a 16-year-old.

We moved on to a subtle, yet symbolic piece titled “Hope” by Tsega Tessema. It captured a moment during the COVID-19 lockdown: a child gazes out at the world, carefree, while her mother prays for an end to their hardship. Nearby, “Lemon Girl” by Ousman Hassen portrays a young girl with an arresting gaze, both innocent and piercing. Though the brushstrokes were gentle and minimal, the visual impact was profound.

As we moved through the exhibition, family stories took over our art talk; our bond reaching back nearly 40 years. Even as the Sheraton staff began packing up, I wandered on alone and found Tesfa Solomon’s “Togetherness,” a warm scene of girls braiding hair. His signature bubbles of light added the same whimsical touch I later saw in his Timket piece.

Eventually, I rejoined Medhanit and Markan in the Sheraton lobby. My legs ached from standing for two hours, though the plush carpet helped a bit. We chatted over ice cream and spring rolls, reflecting on family and the emotional journey the evening had offered. My black coffee felt like the perfect metaphor: bold, original, and full of flavour, just like the “Art of Ethiopia” exhibition itself.

The art scene in Addis is quietly transforming. No longer confined to a privileged few, it now spans generations and backgrounds. The talent is bold, young, and imaginative. I only managed to see a fraction of the exhibition, but even that revealed a depth and energy that demanded more than just passing attention. These artists invite reflection and deserve it.

A few days later at the Hilton, I visited an exhibition curated by Edom Belete of WhatsOutAddis. A serene series by Nebat Yousuf caught my eye. I assumed she wasn’t present, just a young mother with two kids until I saw her name tag. An architect, painter, and entrepreneur, Nebat draws inspiration from her travels through Moscow, St. Petersburg, and Switzerland.

A surprising stop was Tekeste Yibeyen, an elder artist trained by the legendary Ale Felege Selam. His church-inspired works, once painted on sheepskin with natural pigments, now use acrylics for health reasons, but still radiate authenticity. He lamented how traditional Ethiopian art, once thriving under Haile Selassie, is now overshadowed by modern styles.

Among the younger generation, Selam Amsalu, a fine arts student at Addis Abeba University, stood out with her versatile, eclectic works that blended divine mysticism and nature. One striking piece intertwined human blood vessels and tree branches, capturing life as constant evolution; rooted in the past, yet reaching in all directions.

Surafel Ketema’s dynamic “The Cockfight” conveyed chaos and motion with gripping realism. His allegorical depiction of societal conflict, with territorial roosters clashing endlessly, spoke volumes about unresolved histories and persistent divisions.

Next door, Surafel Alebachew showcased bronze sculptures using the traditional lost-wax casting method. His work, A Heart and an Inkpot offered a powerful metaphor: the heart conceives what the pen records. He was the only sculptor I encountered that day.

As the unseasonal Sunday rain began to pour and artworks were hurriedly packed away, I paused before one last piece: “Yelomi Shita” by Estifanos Abebe. Though Estifanos wasn’t present, his friend Surafel Abayneh graciously walked me through it, along with his own New Year-themed paintings.

In “Yelomi Shita”, a beautifully braided woman stands with her eyes closed in what feels like meditative nostalgia. Her traditional garb, serene expression, and the idyllic greenery in the background gave the piece a quiet brilliance. It perfectly echoed Ethiopian folklore, where boys toss lemons at their sweethearts’ chests in playful courtship. It was brilliant!

Surafel Abayneh proved to be as thoughtful as he was talented. Before showing me his work, he patiently described his friends, a gesture that moved me deeply. His untitled piece is set in the famed Gunda Gundo Monastery in Tigray, where Saints Matthew and John appear in a celestial realm, seemingly consulting on the fate of man and the world. The work invokes the mysticism of the four Gospels and the rhythm of the seasons: from Matthew to John, culminating in the leap year.

In front, a bouquet of Adey Abeba – the yellow Ethiopian daisy – sits in a black clay vase, an ode to Ethiopia’s heritage and unique calendar. Beneath it, a locked, dust-covered wooden box teases the viewer with the mysteries each season may hold. Surafel hasn’t titled the piece yet, but I eagerly await what he’ll name it.

Later that evening, as rain continued to fall, I gave Surafel a ride. We talked passionately about art and purpose. As I dropped him at Kokebe Tsebah, meaning “Tomorrow’s Star”, the symbolism struck me: a young artist stepping into the night with dreams and potential burning bright.

Addis Abeba, it seems, is becoming a magnet for artistic energy. At the EthioPost Museum, “Her Story: Migration” runs through March and April, showcasing works by fewer than a dozen women artists, many of them migrants. Sudanese photographer Hanna Abubeker stunned me with her dreamy, surreal images and deeply personal artefacts: childhood T-shirts, a passport filled with visas, and notes from Port Sudan, all disrupted by war.

I also met Kenya’s Margaret Ngigi, whose mugshot-like portraits layered with barcodes critique how society commodifies people. And from Uganda, the vibrant Ethel Aanyu dazzled with kaleidoscopic visuals that were impossible to look away from. Each artist offered a powerful lens into migration’s impact, especially on women, and the undeniable role of art in telling our most human stories.

Addis is living through a cultural renaissance. Art is no longer confined; it is alive, expressive, political, spiritual, and personal. From the Sheraton to the Hilton, from mothers to daughters, from traditionalists to bold experimenters, a new generation of Ethiopian artists is shaping a collective vision. And it is dazzling to behold.

PUBLISHED ON Apr 20,2025 [ VOL 26 , NO 1303]

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