“He Who Dines with the Leopard Is Liable To Be Eaten”

ion over naturalistic description, representing rather than depicting his subjects. This element of abstraction in African art (often seen in traditional masks or wood, ivory, stone, and other carvings), as well as reliance on bold dramatic color, was extremely influential in the development of modern art, inspiring such masters as Pablo Picasso, Henri Matisse, and Amadeo Modigliani (4). Tingatinga’s work contained elements of the Makonde and Swahili cultures and coastal East African design. A celebration of nature and ordinary daily activities, it was characterized by borderless motifs and direct presentation. Seemingly uncomplicated, it was symbolic and metaphorical, using content, color, and design to represent beliefs and ideas. Now as ubiquitous as visitors to Africa, tingatinga art is widely reproduced on anything from small ceramic tiles to large masonite squares and is part of the global “tourist” or “airport trade,” prompting some to question its authenticity. The leopard, on this issue’s cover, was painted by Daudi, Tingatinga’s son, who has been recreating some of his father’s most representative works (5). The ferocious, carnivorous mammal it represents is stealthy and shrewd, solitary, and loyal only to its cubs. Eschewing a tawny coat, this one wears black and sports the circular rosettes of East African leopards. Awash in the primary colors of the region’s Bantu societies: red, white, and black—triad of the spirit world (e.g., black for African; white for Arab, European; red for spirits of the dead) (6)—it dominates the painting from edge to edge, soft on its toes, ready to leap. The zoologic profile—appearance as well as behavior of this wild cat—illuminates its symbolism, so prevalent in African cosmology and lore. Much has been made of the leopard’s maternal bias and high, yet secondary (to the lion), position in the animal kingdom. Its speckled blackand-white pelt has stood for contrast: day and night, wet and dry, human and wild. Its unpredictable temperament and trickery are symbols of, among other topical scourges, despotic rule. Symbolism extends to leopard skin garments and the power of those who wear them, whether heroic figures, political leaders, or spiritual healers (7). Symbolic elaboration of the leopard, old as enigmatic spots on prehistoric caves and diverse as variegated fur, does not fail to apply to emerging diseases. And the subtle nuances of Tingatinga’s intuitive expression capture more than Africa’s artistic elements. The expansion of human communities into the wild, a factor in disease emergence, is rampant on all continents, including Africa. The proximity of human and animal habitation, the constant interaction—amicable, hostile, parasitic—and human fascination with the wild place us at the proverbial table with the leopard to partake at our own risk.