Bark cloth is a material rooted in Sarah Ndagire’s childhood because she grew up watching her grandfather make it. Today, she curates exhibitions and, working with artist Stella Atal, has introduced lubugo to new audiences at the Dubuque Museum of Art in Iowa, USA.
Ndagire says with delight, ‘That bark cloth is alive.’ She hopes visitors who interact with the Ugandan material at the Dubuque Museum of Art in Iowa, US, and other spaces will walk away richer in knowledge and exposure.
Exhibition
Her recent exhibition has been more than an opportunity to introduce bark cloth, locally known as lubugo, to people who may never have seen or touched it. It also presents bark cloth as a unique medium for contemporary artistic expression.
The multidisciplinary artist traces her connection to bark cloth to her childhood, when she encountered it during ceremonies and other significant cultural moments. From that point on, its colour, texture and presence became part of the landscape of her memory.
She grew up close to her grandfather, who taught her about the material as he tended to the trees and later made the bark cloth. In this way, it became a symbol of lineage and connection. To date, it holds stories of people and time.
Bark cloth begins its life as part of the mutuba tree. It is grown, harvested and transformed by human hands. Its finished surface retains evidence of that journey through its uneven texture, marks and shades.
Ndagire explains that these qualities give the material unusual storytelling power. ‘Its surface holds marks, irregularities and depth. It does not hide its making. So, when you work with it, you are already working with a story,’ she says.
The living canvas
The curator describes bark cloth as a ‘living canvas’, a phrase that captures both its organic origin and its capacity for reinvention. Although rooted in an old cultural practice, bark cloth continues to be produced, used and reimagined.
Its story, therefore, cannot be confined to the past. ‘It carries history, but it also responds to the present. When artists such as Stella Atal work with it, they extend its life into new forms,’ Ndagire explains.
Atal, a Ugandan artist whose practice crosses cultural and geographical contexts, brings bark cloth into a bold contemporary visual language. Her treatment of the material allows audiences to see it beyond its familiar ceremonial and cultural associations.
Ndagire says their collaboration grew from a shared commitment to telling cultural stories through contemporary artistic forms. ‘Her work with bark cloth is powerful because she doesn’t just use the material; she transforms it,’ Ndagire says.
‘She brought a strong visual language, a sense of boldness and a global perspective that expanded how bark cloth could be seen.’ That transformation sits at the centre of the exhibition, where bark cloth carries the history of the tree, the hands of its makers and its cultural associations in Uganda.
Atal’s intervention adds another layer, placing those histories in conversation with contemporary art and international audiences. For people outside Uganda, Ndagire says, the material becomes a point of encounter with something ancient and current at the same time.
Displaying lubugo in an American museum alters how it is encountered. In Uganda, it exists within lived experience. Some audiences recognise its place in ceremonies, family histories and cultural practice.
In Iowa, USA, many visitors encounter it without that immediate frame of reference. The unfamiliarity creates room for discovery. ‘That shift allows it to be seen differently, as tradition, art, design and storytelling. It creates a new kind of dialogue between cultures,’ she says.
As curator, Ndagire approached the exhibition as both a storyteller and a bridge between those worlds. She did not want visitors to see bark cloth as an isolated object or a remnant of another place and time.
Aim
Her aim was to create an experience shaped around the relationships between material, body and meaning. The emotional journey she envisioned begins with curiosity, develops into connection and ends in reflection.
‘Even if they don’t fully understand the history, I want them to feel that this material carries life, memory and intention,’ she says. The intention appears to be reaching visitors.
Curiosity has been the most immediate response, particularly among people who have never encountered anything like bark cloth. Some are drawn to its cultural history.
Others respond to the relationship between the material and sustainability. The most meaningful moment for Ndagire, however, comes when looking turns into questioning.
‘What stands out most is when people begin asking questions. That’s when you know the work has opened something,’ she says.
Presenting a culturally significant material through contemporary art inevitably raises questions about preservation and reinvention.
How far can an artist transform a traditional material without separating it from its origins? Ndagire does not view the two impulses as opposing forces. She argues that preservation is not about freezing something in time but about continuity.
As such, tradition survives because it adapts. The responsibility, she argues, lies in honouring the origin of the material while creating room for artists to develop new interpretations.
Culture remains alive through use, conversation and change, rather than being held at a distance as something finished. This understanding also shapes her work as director of AfriWell Hub, a platform bringing together African art, wellness, identity and community connection.
The hub’s larger vision is to create space for African artists and cultural expression while encouraging audiences to participate in heritage as an experience rather than observe it as a static display.
‘The goal is to build a platform where African heritage is presented, experienced, shared and sustained,’ she says.
Ndagire’s own journey towards this intersection of culture, curation and community developed gradually.
Her movement from performance into organising and curating revealed that creative work was also about representation, relationships and creating opportunities for other people.
‘I understood that my role was not only to create, but to hold space for others as well,’ she says.
Such work depends on institutions and partners willing to support both the artistic vision and public access.
Ndagire credits the Big Field Fund, the Dubuque Museum of Art and other collaborators for helping bring the exhibition into being. ‘It’s not just about funding,’ she explains.
‘It’s about belief in the work and creating access for audiences.’
She sees the Iowa exhibition as a beginning. She hopes it can develop into a travelling exhibition, allowing bark cloth to enter other cities, galleries and cultural conversations.
There is also room to expand its educational and community-engagement components, creating deeper opportunities for audiences to understand the people, knowledge and environment behind the material.
Her creative exploration will extend to other African materials and the possibilities they hold within contemporary art. At the centre of that continuing journey is the lesson embodied by lubugo itself: that heritage can remain rooted without remaining still.
‘Bark cloth carries history, but it is also part of the present. Culture is something we continue to shape, not something that stays behind us,’ Ndagire concludes.