They are unlikely best friends – one black, one white, one from Africa and the other from America. They live half a world apart, they don’t have a lot of money and they aren’t famous, but together they are changing the world. It is a small corner of the world, but it is radical life-altering change for those they are helping. Art is their anchor – it is the thing that brought them together, and it is the vehicle they will use to further their cause, but it is their own deep sense of responsibility that is really the driving force behind their friendship and their commitment to help others. In the African language of Shona they call it sahwira.

In 1967, Gedion Nyanhongo was born into a large family living in the Eastern Highlands of Zimbabwe (called Rhodesia at the time). His father was a polygamist who had two wives and 19 children. Family life was chaotic and crazy, but somehow they made it work and all of the brothers and sisters remain close today. Gedion came by his artistic talent naturally. The patriarch of the clan, Claud Nyanhongo, is one of the best-known artists of the so-called first generation of Shona sculptors. Although Claud and subsequently several of his children have made names for themselves as artists, their careers have been severely impacted by three decades of political upheaval in Zimbabwe. To really understand the artists and their art, you first have to understand the country and its recent history. It is a sad tale of political incompetence, corruption, and the AIDS pandemic that has left its people in a purgatory of profound poverty. It is against this backdrop that Gedion came of age, as a man and as an artist.

Zimbabwe was a British colony for many decades until African impatience with political reforms led to a guerrilla war that started in the 1960’s and didn’t stop until independence was achieved in 1980. More than 27, 000 people died in the violence. While independence from Britain was a milestone for the country, it did not lead to real long lasting democracy. To make a long story short, the country’s leaders made sure they stayed in power by any means necessary. They authorized a land redistribution plan that forced a mass migration of white wealth out of country, the once thriving economy toppled, the international banking community abandoned the country and as if that were not enough, a severe drought and an AIDS pandemic sealed the deal – Zimbabwe is a country drowning in crisis.

Despite all of the uncertainty around them, the Nyanhongo family managed to carve out a place in the new Zimbabwe. Although forced to give up his art during the years of guerrilla warfare, Claud went back to sculpting after Independence day, and quite quickly gained international acclaim. Several of his children, most notably his daughter Agnes, also established art careers. Gedion, though, was slow to jump on board, opting instead for a job as an auto mechanic. Looking back it seems a strange choice, given his obvious artistic talent, but at the time he was young and looking to break away. It wasn’t long, though, before he made the decision to return to his art. He studied with an African icon, Joseph Ndandarika, for two years before serving as resident artist at the Mabwe Gallery and then later at the Chapungu Gallery. His career path was set, but it would take another twist of fate to really achieve success.

Gedion loves the feel of stone. He loves to run his calloused hands over the rough surface knowing that something special lies within and it’s up to him to find it. He uses several different types of stone, but he is partial to the green serpentine of his homeland. “I let the stone tell me what to do,” he says. “I work a little bit here, and a little bit there, and then I can see where I should go next. I become obsessed by what the stone hides.” It’s almost nerve-racking to watch him work because there is no eraser. He can’t go back and fix a mistake once the hammer has hit the chisel and chipped away stone. Patience is as necessary as any one of his tools. He has learned to use it wisely. Universal themes permeate his work – love, family, humility and nature – but there is something else as well – a kind of quiet joy. And maybe that’s the real genius of his work. Despite all the turmoil and sadness in his country, he manages to capture the essence of being Zimbabwean – inner strength equals survival.

Braden Coolidge grew up half world away in the comparatively friendly confines of Santa Cruz, California. When he was seven years old, he traveled through Guatemala with his mother. That trip planted the altruistic seed, and by the time he got to college he knew he wanted to make helping people his life work. At the University of Santa Cruz he majored in social work, and his senior internship took him to Zimbabwe where he naively thought he could make a difference. Initially, the experience was exciting and enlightening. “It was really a reversal for me. Everyone looking at me because of the color of my skin. I was walking around with a spotlight on me. It did give me a new perspective on race.” But the excitement would soon turn to disappointment. He lived with a Zimbabwean family and started working at a government rehab center. It took him two hours to bike there every day, and within two weeks his bike was stolen, and that was just the beginning. “The system was so corrupt. The money wasn’t going where it was supposed to go. I wasn’t helping anyone, only discovering how tightly corruption and nepotism were woven into the government system. It was one of the most disillusioning experiences of my life,” he says. He became more and more depressed, and one of the only things that cheered him up was visiting an art gallery where he became enthralled with the work of one young African sculptor. “The work was so inspiring,” he says. After he literally became a regular at the gallery, the owner finally asked if he’d like to meet the artist. Braden quickly agreed.

At the time of their first meeting, Gedion was just beginning his art career. His wife Constance had just given birth to their first son, and was still unsure of this “art as a career” thing. They lived in a modest home in one of the most densely populated townships just outside the capitol city of Harare and times were tough. Braden was so taken with Gedion’s art, he maxed out his credit card buying as many of the small sculptures as he could afford and could carry home. Once back in Santa Cruz he set up a small show and sold every piece he had. “It was amazing how so many connected with Gedion’s art,” he says. But it would be a couple more years before they really established their business relationship. With no formal art training, Braden became an impromtu art agent and dealer. In 1998, he was finally able to put together a major show for Gedion in Carmel, California. “Gedion came out for three months and we had a great time promoting the show,” Braden explains. “Gedion saw snow for the first time in Tahoe. We also went sailing – Zimbabwe is land-locked so the ocean experience was huge. Looking at Gedion now, with all his travels around the world, you’d think he’d been doing it forever, but it wasn’t that long ago that he was just a simple man, living modestly in a major township, with a keen ability to create beautiful imagery in stone.”

Over the next ten years Braden worked to establish Gedion as one of the premiere African sculptors of a new generation. Gedion did travel the world but always returned to his immediate and extended family in Zimbabwe. Braden worked out of Santa Cruz, but always went back to Africa at least once a year. “It is like my second home,” he explains. “The simplicity there is so rewarding and cleansing. Unfortunately, with every amazing aspect that exists in the life and culture, there is also the sobering, oppressive reality of living poor. There is seemingly no moderation -it’s either incredible or devastating. Too much rain or no rain at all. It’s sad. This country used to be the breadbasket of Africa, and now they have 1000% inflation and so many people dying from AIDS. Still, I love to go back. The people are a constant source of inspiration. It slows me down and puts me back in touch with the important things.”

It was on his annual trip to Zimbabwe this year that Braden’s life took another important turn. He set out on a daytrip because he wanted to give away clothing he had brought over from the States. “My plan was to drive into town and hand out the clothing to street kids, but then I thought maybe that wasn’t such a good idea to start handing out clothing in town, attracting a crowd and causing a frenzy.” So he started driving out into the country ending up in the small township of Epworth, an amazing place known for its sculpture-like rock formations. Braden came upon a very old man walking on the side of the road – that in and of itself was an unusual sight because the life expectancy in Zimbabwe is only 37 years old. Braden offered the man a ride and decided to go where the old man wanted to go. That was a fateful decision. The ride ended at a closed gate at the very end of the township. Beyond the gate, down a dirt driveway, there stood a small one-story building surrounded by giant balancing rocks. It was an intriguing site, but the gate was closed and Braden was on a mission to give away some clothes. But before Braden could turn around to leave, a well-dressed man came running up the driveway and introduced himself. “I’m Mr. Maulana and this is my school,” he said proudly. A school? Turns out it is a school for some 1600 AIDS orphans. Braden got a quick tour and was blown away. “I was just so impressed how much they did with so little.” A few days later he returned with Gedion under the guise that the kids could learn something from a world famous artist. Secretly Braden hoped Gedion would be as moved as he was. It was a hot day, and Gedion wasn’t feeling well, but when he saw the hundreds and hundreds of kids, he lit up. Braden and Gedion both knew they couldn’t just walk away. They had to help.

Braden and Gedion have now formed a nonprofit organization to raise money for the Maulana School. They call it “Sahwira” in honor of their friendship and the life-long commitment they have made to help children who have so little. Phase one will take care of basic needs like toilets, clothing, supplies and a garden. Braden has already lined up sister schools in the United States. School kids in Ohio are taking care of pencils. May not sound like a big deal, but it is to the kids at Maulana. In the past every pencil was broken into four pieces and given to four different children; now the kids all have their own. The next phase will include the actual construction of buildings, classrooms, and a well. Braden and Gedion are using art to spread the word. The fundraising campaign is part of every exhibition and every interview. At every show Gedion donates one sculpture with 100% of the money going to the school. Recently, Gedion made the difficult decision to leave Zimbabwe. He will move his wife and two children to Arizona this year. It will be a good move for his career, but he will never truly leave his homeland. The school and his extended family will keep bringing him back to his roots. For Braden, still an idealistic young man with dreams of changing the world, the school brings him full circle. As a young college student he wanted to make a difference. More than a decade later he is doing just that. His life is guided by one simple, but powerful idea; “You do what you can, where you can and hope that you inspire others to do the same.”

Written by: Erin Clark
ARTWORKS Magazine – Winter 2007