Ibrahim Mahama’s ‘Parliament of Ghosts’, at Ibraaz gallery

I love the use of textiles in the visual arts, not least because as a traditional product of women’s creativity they have often been belittled as “craft items” or “women’s work”. Indeed, one of my favourite book titles ever is Women’s work: the first 20,000 years, a 1994 study by Elizabeth Barber of the full range of women’s roles in the manufacture and deployment of clothing in ancient societies. During the 1850s, I note in passing, around 60 per cent of the workforce in Lancashire weaving mills was female. And as time went on many of them joined Trades Unions, too. So it wasn’t all mending, knitting and embroidery.

Most people in the world wear clothes, and most human societies either produce or import textiles. These can be culturally quite specific, and swathes of brightly-coloured fabric often feature in works by African artists in particular. The British-Nigerian sculptor Yinka Shonibare led the way in using printed fabrics as a means of exploring issues of cultural identity and colonialism; it seems that men too can be fascinated by textiles. They tend to favour large-scale installations, and this is certainly the case with Ibrahim Mahama’s Parliament of Ghosts, which has just gone on show at Ibraaz, a new arts space at 93 Mortimer Street, Fitzrovia. Mahama’s work is rooted in the material and social histories of Ghana.  

Seventy-five chairs, contributed by households across Ghana, are arranged ceremonially around a large neo-Baroque hall, in what amounts to a stage set for a parliament whose members have suddenly disappeared. Wooden armchairs, Mahama comments, were once “signifiers of authority within patriarchal structures”. In Ghosts the chairs’ upholstery is made from textiles bought by the artist at a local market near to his studio in Accra, and leather from the same source provided covers for the cushions. The shelves which enclose the parliament are packed with folded jute sacks, symbols of the overseas trade that underpins political power. Parliament of Ghosts, says Mahama, doesn’t just represent the flaws of Ghana’s government, but is intended to highlight the failures and unfulfilled potential of parliaments around the world. By bringing the piece to London, he is performing a kind of “reverse restitution”. Rather than campaigning for the return of objects to Britain’s former colonies, he is transferring the colonies’ material histories to the capital of their former rulers. 

Ibraaz was founded by art curator Lina Lazaar, whose aim is to create a space where important issues can be debated without animosity, anger or abuse. The venue is funded by the Kamel Lazaar Foundation, a charity set up by Lina’s father, a Tunisian businessman who created the financial services group Swicorp. Entry is free. Ibraaz promotes African and Middle Eastern art in particular, and its bookshop is at present gearing its displays to the Palestine Festival of Literature. Though in general I’m suspicious of privately funded arts organisations, this place seems to me like a godsend at a time when we’re experiencing a fair amount of state censorship. “Freedom of expression is shrinking, in the press, on campuses and in some institutions as well,” says Lina Lazaar. She wants the new venue to foster calm reflection and lively discussion about subjects which today often drive people to blows.

As for 93 Mortimer Street, it was a pleasure to see inside it for the very first time. It began its existence in the 18th century as a substantial residence, and was occupied by a series of medical men. In 1861 it was developed into the London Galvanic Hospital, offering treatment to “helpless, abandoned and incurable cases”. A few years later it became the first home of the German Athenaeum, a club or “sort of sublime public house” for German artists, musicians and businessmen. The Athenaeum moved to other premises in 1905, and the building was leased to a successful ladies’ outfitters and corsetières business, which was responsible for the grand stuccoed hall where Parliament of Ghosts is now sitting. Between the Wars the occupants of number 93’s offices and showrooms included the International New Thought Society and the Women’s League of Health and Beauty; and after WW2 the place was turned over to garment manufacturers and auctioneers.

This is a joyful history. The hall at number 93 seems to me to provide an utterly appropriate setting for an artwork which celebrates so grippingly the splendours and adventures of printed textiles. Mahama may be a man, but I’d like to bet that the market traders who sold him the cloth were women.

Parliament of Ghosts, by Ibrahim Mahama, is on show until 15 February 2026 at Ibraaz, 93 Mortimer Street, London W1W 7SS.

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