The Vulcaniser Shop as Exhibition Space: Redefining Art's Geography Through Community Intervention
An exploration of Dela Anyah's 'Homecoming' series and the transformation of utilitarian spaces into sites of artistic dialogue"
Introduction
When I first walked into vulcaniser shops across Accra—from East Legon to Ashiyie, from Tema Motorway to Kwabenya—to source discarded tubes, tires, and rims for my artwork, I encountered the same puzzled question repeatedly: "wo de ko ye den?" (what are you going to do with this?). This simple inquiry, born from genuine curiosity about the artistic potential of automotive refuse, would eventually evolve into "Homecoming," my series of interventions that challenges our understanding of where art belongs and who gets to encounter it.
What began as material sourcing transformed into something far more profound: the temporary conversion of working vulcaniser shops into exhibition spaces, creating unprecedented dialogues between myself, my artwork, shop owners, and local communities. This practice raises fundamental questions about the democratization of art, the politics of space, and the potential for utilitarian environments to become sites of cultural exchange.
The Vulcaniser Shop as Vernacular Space
Vulcaniser shops occupy a unique position in Ghana's urban landscape. These informal automotive repair spaces, primarily focused on tire repair and maintenance, represent more than mere commercial enterprises—they function as community nodes, gathering places, and repositories of local knowledge and craft. In his seminal work "Architecture Without Architects," Bernard Rudofsky emphasized the significance of vernacular spaces that emerge organically from community needs rather than institutional planning. The vulcaniser shops I work with embody this principle perfectly, existing as utilitarian spaces that nonetheless foster social interaction and economic activity within their neighborhoods.
My transformation of these spaces into temporary galleries echoes what cultural theorist Michel de Certeau described as "spatial practices"—the ways in which people appropriate and redefine spaces through their actions and presence. By introducing my artwork into vulcaniser shops, I was not merely changing the function of these spaces temporarily; I was revealing their latent potential as sites of cultural production and dialogue.
Alternative Exhibition Models and Community Engagement
My practice aligns with a broader movement in contemporary art that seeks to decentralize cultural production and challenge the hegemony of traditional art institutions. This approach resonates with Nicolas Bourriaud's concept of "relational aesthetics," which emphasizes art practices that focus on human relations and social contexts rather than independent private spaces.
The precedent for such community-based interventions can be traced through various international examples. In the 1970s, artists like Gordon Matta-Clark transformed abandoned buildings into temporary exhibition spaces, while more recently, initiatives like Theaster Gates's "Stony Island Arts Bank" in Chicago have demonstrated the power of converting utilitarian buildings into cultural spaces. However, my approach is distinctive in its temporary nature and its focus on active, working spaces rather than abandoned or repurposed buildings.
My "Homecoming" series particularly resonates with what curator and theorist Claire Bishop describes as "participatory art"—practices that invite direct engagement from communities rather than passive observation. The conversations I documented between myself and shop owners during these interventions become part of the artwork itself, creating what Grant Kester calls "dialogical art practices" that prioritize exchange and relationship-building over object-making.
The Politics of Accessibility and Art's Geography
Traditional art institutions—museums, galleries, and cultural centers—often present barriers to access that extend beyond mere economic considerations. Cultural capital, educational background, social class, and geographic location all influence who feels welcome in these spaces. Pierre Bourdieu's analysis of cultural reproduction helps explain how certain spaces become coded as belonging to specific social groups, effectively excluding others through invisible but powerful social mechanisms.
By bringing my art directly into vulcaniser shops, I bypass these institutional barriers entirely. My interventions create what anthropologist James Scott might call "hidden transcripts" of cultural exchange—interactions and dialogues that occur outside the purview of formal cultural institutions. Shop owners and community members encounter my contemporary art on their own terms, in spaces where they already feel comfortable and empowered.
This approach also speaks to what geographer Doreen Massey called "the politics of place." Every location carries its own social meanings, power relations, and cultural associations. The vulcaniser shop, as a working-class, informal sector space, brings different associations and possibilities to the encounter with art than would a white-walled gallery or museum space.
Material Circulation and Narrative Ecology
One of the most compelling aspects of my practice is the circular relationship between the spaces and the materials I use in my artwork. The discarded tires, tubes, and automotive materials I source from vulcaniser shops are transformed into art objects, which then return to their spaces of origin for exhibition. This creates what I call a "narrative ecology"—a system in which materials, spaces, and stories circulate and transform each other.
This approach echoes the work of artists like El Anatsui, whose transformation of discarded bottle caps into monumental sculptures speaks to questions of value, waste, and transformation in postcolonial African contexts. However, my practice adds another layer by returning the transformed materials to their original contexts, creating opportunities for shop owners and communities to see familiar objects through new lenses.
Walter Benjamin's essay "The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction" provides a useful framework for understanding my practice. While Benjamin was concerned with how reproduction diminishes art's "aura," my interventions might be seen as restoring a different kind of aura to everyday objects by returning them to their original contexts transformed through artistic practice.
Documenting Ephemeral Interventions
The temporary nature of my interventions raises important questions about documentation and memory in art practice. Each "Homecoming" exists for only a limited period—a day, a few hours—before the shop returns to its normal function. This ephemerality is both a strength and a challenge: it preserves the integrity of the working space while creating intense, focused moments of cultural exchange.
My documentation of these interventions through photography, video, and written accounts becomes crucial for extending their impact beyond the immediate community. Social media platforms, particularly Instagram, have played a significant role in amplifying the reach of my interventions, creating what curator Paul O'Neill calls "distributed curating"—curatorial practices that extend beyond physical spaces through digital networks.
However, this raises questions about representation and authenticity. How does the digital documentation of my interventions translate the embodied experience of encountering art in a vulcaniser shop? What aspects of the exchange between myself, my artwork, shop owners, and community can be conveyed through documentation, and what remains irreducibly local and temporal?
Building New Audiences and Cultural Networks
One of the most significant impacts of my "Homecoming" series has been its creation of new audiences for contemporary art. By bringing my work directly into communities that might never visit traditional art spaces, my interventions create opportunities for cultural exchange that would otherwise be impossible.
This approach aligns with recent scholarship on "cultural equity" and "cultural democracy"—movements that seek to ensure that cultural resources and opportunities are distributed more fairly across different communities and social groups. Rather than expecting communities to come to art, my practice brings art to communities, meeting people where they are rather than where institutions think they should be.
The feedback and engagement I received, particularly through social media responses to my Adjiringanor intervention, demonstrated the hunger that exists for these kinds of cultural encounters. The "proof of concept" that emerged from community engagement suggests that there are audiences for contemporary art that traditional institutions are simply not reaching.
Theoretical Implications: Expanding Exhibition Theory
My practice contributes to evolving theories of what constitutes an exhibition space and how curatorial practice might operate outside institutional frameworks. Traditional exhibition theory, rooted in museum and gallery practices, assumes certain conditions: controlled environments, dedicated viewing time, interpretive materials, and audiences who have specifically chosen to encounter art.
The vulcaniser shop exhibition disrupts all of these assumptions. The space continues its primary function during my intervention; viewers may encounter my artwork accidentally while seeking automotive services; interpretation occurs through direct dialogue rather than wall texts; and the environment is decidedly uncontrolled, with the sounds, smells, and activities of automotive repair continuing throughout.
This suggests the need for new theoretical frameworks that can account for what I call "embedded exhibitions"—curatorial practices that work within and alongside existing spatial functions rather than requiring the suspension of normal activities. Such practices point toward more sustainable and less disruptive models of cultural intervention.
Global Context and Local Specificity
While my practice emerges from specific Ghanaian contexts, it resonates with global conversations about decolonizing cultural institutions and creating more inclusive models of cultural engagement. From the transformation of informal settlements in Latin American cities into cultural spaces to the use of barbershops as exhibition venues in African American communities, there is a growing international movement toward more democratic and accessible cultural practices.
However, the specific context of the Ghanaian vulcaniser shop—its role in the informal economy, its social function in urban communities, its relationship to automotive culture and mobility—gives my practice a distinctly local character. This specificity is crucial, as it prevents my practice from becoming merely a generic example of "community engagement" and instead roots it in particular social, economic, and cultural conditions.
Environmental and Economic Dimensions
My use of discarded automotive materials also speaks to broader questions about waste management and environmental responsibility in urban African contexts. Contrary to functioning as recycling centers, vulcaniser shops often serve as dumping grounds for tire waste that would otherwise be burned or discarded inappropriately. My practice involves salvaging materials from these dumping areas before they are destroyed, transforming what would become environmental hazards into cultural objects with new meaning and value.
This approach highlights the distinction between formal recycling systems and informal waste transformation practices. While vulcaniser shops may not intentionally recycle materials, they become unintentional repositories of potentially valuable waste. My artistic intervention in this process creates cultural value from materials destined for destruction, offering an alternative to the linear waste cycle that dominates automotive repair industries.
Future Implications and Scalability
The success of my "Homecoming" interventions raises questions about international scalability and cultural translation. Rather than expanding into other types of businesses locally, I am more interested in whether similar practices could emerge in vulcaniser shops or comparable automotive spaces in other cities around the world. Could this model of temporary intervention work in tire repair shops in Lagos, Nairobi, or Dakar? What about automotive repair spaces in Detroit, São Paulo, or Sharjah?
Such international expansion would require deep attention to local contexts, materials, and community dynamics. Each city has its own relationship to automotive culture, waste management, and informal economic spaces. The success of my Ghanaian interventions cannot be assumed to translate directly to other urban contexts, but the underlying principle—transforming waste into art and returning it to its community of origin—might offer frameworks for culturally specific adaptations in cities with similar automotive repair cultures.
Conclusion: Toward a More Democratic Geography of Art
My "Homecoming" series represents more than an exhibition strategy—it offers a vision of what a more democratic and accessible cultural landscape might look like. By transforming vulcaniser shops into temporary galleries, my project demonstrates that art's power lies not in its institutional context but in its capacity to generate dialogue, transform perception, and build relationships.
Perhaps most importantly, my "Homecoming" series reminds us that cultural production already exists everywhere—in the repair practices of vulcaniser shops, in the social interactions of urban communities, in the creative repurposing of industrial materials. My role as an artist becomes not the creation of culture from nothing, but the amplification and transformation of cultural processes that already exist.
As I continue to develop this practice, the vulcaniser shop stands as both literal and metaphorical space—a site where the discarded finds new life, where questions of value and meaning are negotiated through dialogue. In asking "wo de ko ye den?" the vulcaniser shop owners were not merely inquiring about the fate of their discarded materials—they were opening a space for cultural dialogue that would ultimately transform both my artwork and their communities in equal measure.
This essay explores the theoretical and practical implications of my community-based artistic interventions through the lens of my "Homecoming" series. Future research might examine similar practices across different cultural contexts and their impact on both artistic practice and community development.