Remnants at Tensta konsthall is a continuation of the 2025 exhibition curated by Zimbabwean-born Tawanda Appiah at HEIRLOOM center for art and archives in Copenhagen. For this second iteration at Tensta konsthall, located in a multicultural suburb of Stockholm, director Cecilia Widenheim has joined as co-curator. To ground the exhibition locally, new names have been added to the roster of living and departed African and African diasporic artists, including two current fixtures: Somali-Swedish artists Salad Hilowle and Ikram Abdulkadir.
Even before entering the main space, I am met by what I assume must be the sounds of the American jazz trumpeter Don Cherry, (step)father of Neneh (“Buffalo Stance”) and Eagle-Eye (“Save Tonight”) Cherry, and husband and frequent collaborator of the late multi-artist Moki Cherry.
An initial scan reveals a sparse layout. Perhaps it is the pleasant music, or simply the shelter it offers from one of the grimmest days of the year, but the art space feels more inviting than usual.
Next to the entrance, a slide projector casts a nostalgic glow onto the wall. A young girl enjoys azure waters; in another frame, she jumps from a bunk bed. “Is this Neneh?” I wonder. The images, many possessing striking qualities in their own right, belong to the Cherry family archives, nodding to the nature of the exhibition.
Nearby, and forming part of the same installation (Notes by Don Cherry, 2025), are three sleek vitrines. Containing the kind of contents one expects from an archival presentation, they evoke a sense of a mini-retrospective within the exhibition. Being a sucker for memorabilia, I allow myself briefly to be whisked off to a different time. “Music masquerade in a plastic tent with the Don Cherry family,” reads a clipping from Svenska Dagbladet, one of the leading dailies. The tent refers to Bucky Dome, an iconic part-installation, part-event stage hosted by the Cherries in the gardens of Moderna Museet in 1971. It functions not only as a reminder of the space once afforded to visual art in Swedish media, but also as a captivating piece of Swedish art history.
Don Cherry, Notes by Don Cherry, archival installation, 2025, photo: Jean-Baptiste Béranger, courtesy of Tensta konsthall
Installation view: Remnants, Tensta konsthall, 11.09.2026 -10.01.2027, photo: Jean-Baptiste Béranger, courtesy of Tensta konsthall
While the exhibition spans generations and media, its most rewarding elements are the film components. In one corner, the video installation SPACECAMPAIGN: An Interview in the Archive (2025), by Danish researcher and art historian Nina Cramer and Danish-Swedish actress Ellen Nyman, revisits the latter’s activist performance from the early 2000s. The project which is totally new to me, saw Nyman confronting the rise of xenophobia in Denmark by impersonating a Black Muslim woman dressed in a chador. This painfully brings to mind the state of Sweden in 2026 with a recent political proposition to ban Muslim headscarves in public spaces, something that would have been unimaginable around the time of Nyman’s actions. A wink is also directed towards Felix Gonzalez-Torres by way of a stack of posters for visitors to take, printed with the words: ”Any similarity to actual persons or events is unintentional.”
Two other films mirror one another. One places Don Cherry at the center of a 1972 children’s program, Piff, Paff, Puff, sourced from the Swedish public service television archives. The other, Bruce Baker’s short documentary The Dancing Prophet (1971), features the late queer American dancer and choreographer Doug Crutchfield. Bound by a similar trajectory – both artists left the United States for Scandinavia in the 1960s – the videos capture endearing scenes of children being instructed in music and dance, showing how both extended their crafts to their new communities.
Nina Cramer & Ellen Nyman, SPACECAMPAIGN – an interview in the archive, video, 2025; press photo by Lars Krabbe, 2001. Installation photo: Jean-Baptiste Béranger, courtesy of Tensta konsthall
Nina Cramer & Ellen Nyman, Any Similarity to Actual Persons or Events is Unintentional, poster, 2023, photo: Jean-Baptiste Béranger, courtesy of Tensta konsthall
Placing the younger artists, Hilowle, Abdulkadir, and South African-born Simnikiwe Buhlungu, at the far end of the space is a smart choice. Hilowle presents a three-channel, non-linear video installation; a lush construction familiar from his recent exhibitions. By mixing archival footage with his own, one gorgeous shot of a mosque’s interior creates a dialogue not only with Abdulkadir’s carved-up prayer rug on the adjacent wall, but also with Nyman and Cramer across the room. Abdulkadir’s leap from traditional photo-mounting to sculptural form is a pleasant surprise and works very well, though a small part of me wishes for a few more images. In the midst of this, Buhlungu presents a textile banner in the corner titled This We’re Not Making Up!, adopting the imperative language of political protest.
As a whole, however, Remnants is not an exhibition that roars. In someone else’s hands, the gestures might have been grander or louder, but here it is an elegant, understated affair that lingers in the mind. There is an unexpected stillness, which proves to be one of its many strengths.
Salad Hilowle, Waiting for Something, part II, HD video, 3 channels, 2025, photo: Jean-Baptiste Béranger, courtesy of Tensta konsthall
Ikram Abdulkadir, Family Familiar, inkjet print, found objects, 2024 – ongoing, photo: Jean-Baptiste Béranger, courtesy of Tensta konsthall
Koshik Zaman is a freelance writer and independent curator based in Stockholm, Sweden. He has been a contributor editor to Daily Lazy since 2026.