A new exhibition at the Brooklyn Museum is the most expansive North American exhibition of the Malian photographer Seydou Keïta’s work, who documented the vibrant cosmopolitanism of Bamako during a critical time in West African History.
When you make your way up to the 4th floor of the Brooklyn Museum to see their new exhibition of the photographs of Malian photographer Seydou Keïta’s work, you are met with deep blue walls and a huge portrait of the man himself in the first room, appearing serene in a white shirt, looking right at the camera, delicately holding a flower. It is a beautiful entrance to an even more beautiful exhibition.
Keïta was born around 1921 in Bamako-Coura, or New Bamako, a growing colonial commercial center within the historic Malian city of Bamako. His first camera, given to him at age 14, was a Kodak Brownie, a gift from his uncle, who had brought it back from a trip to Senegal. In 1935, Keïta became an apprentice to Mountaga Dembélé, Mali’s first professional photographer to earn a living through his studio. He went on to open his own studio in 1948 in front of his family’s home, becoming Mali’s second photographer.
“Keïta’s studio was active for a surprisingly short time: 1948-1962, at which time he was pressed into service by the new Independence government to work as a state photographer and forced to abandon the studio,” guest curator Catherine McKinley tells me via email. “It’s a sliver in time, but his oeuvre is a pretty astounding document of the decade leading up to Independence as well as the legacies of World War 2 and militarism, trade, social identity, etc.”
This time frame for the studio’s existence coincided with a period of great change in Mali, as the country transitioned from a French colony to an independent country. Keita’s studio became a destination for all levels of Malian society, welcoming everyone from the rich and powerful to people from remote villages in the countryside to travelers passing along the Dakar-Niger railroad.
“As a young photographer, he went out with his camera and photographed people in their homes and on the street. He also employed the apprentices in his father and uncle’s carpentry shop, where he worked, to direct people to him,” McKinley tells me. “Apparently, walking around with a camera in the city, something few people had seen, also drew people’s curiosity. By the time he opened his studio in 1948, he was well known.”
Seydou Keïta. Untitled, 1949–51, printed ca. 1994–2001. Gelatin silver print. Courtesy of the Musée national du Mali. © SKPEAC/Seydou Keïta, courtesy The Jean Pigozzi Collection of African Art 
Seydou Keïta. Untitled, 1957–60, printed 1994. Gelatin silver print. Courtesy of The Jean Pigozzi African Art Collection. © SKPEAC/Seydou Keïta, courtesy The Jean Pigozzi Collection of African Art 
Seydou Keïta. Untitled, 1959, printed ca. 1994–2001. Gelatin silver print. Courtesy of The Jean Pigozzi African Art Collection. © SKPEAC/Seydou Keïta, courtesy The Jean Pigozzi Collection of African Art 
Seydou Keïta. Untitled, 1949–51, printed 1995. Gelatin silver print. Courtesy of The Jean Pigozzi African Art Collection. © SKPEAC/Seydou Keïta, courtesy The Jean Pigozzi Collection of African Art 
Seydou Keïta. Untitled, 1949–51, printed 1995. Gelatin silver print. Courtesy of The Jean Pigozzi African Art Collection. © SKPEAC/Seydou Keïta, courtesy The Jean Pigozzi Collection of African Art 
Seydou Keïta. Untitled, 1952–55, printed ca. 1994–2001. Gelatin silver print. Courtesy of The Jean Pigozzi African Art Collection. © SKPEAC/Seydou Keïta, courtesy The Jean Pigozzi Collection of African Art 
Seydou Keïta. Untitled, 1956–57, printed 1994. Gelatin silver print. Courtesy of The Jean Pigozzi African Art Collection. © SKPEAC/Seydou Keïta, courtesy The Jean Pigozzi Collection of African Art 
Seydou Keïta. Untitled, 1956, printed 2018. Gelatin silver print. Courtesy of The Jean Pigozzi African Art Collection 
Seydou Keïta. Untitled, ca. 1948–63. Vintage gelatin silver print. The Estate of Steven C. Dubin. © SKPEAC/Seydou Keïta, courtesy The Jean Pigozzi Collection of African Art (Photo: Brooklyn Museum)
And the photographs Keïta made are astounding. They must be seen in person to really do them justice, particularly those printed at life size or slightly bigger. Looking into the eyes of the sitters, and seeing all the details in clothing, accessories, and the sitters’ surroundings, one forgets that a living person is not sitting in front of you. The wall text also does a wonderful job of explaining some of the details in the portraits, and their importance, that a viewer may at first not understand the significance of.
But what also stands out is how contemporary and modern the photographs look. Many could be from modern-day fashion spreads, others could be artists’ portraits. Keïta’s ability to capture his sitters’ personalities and aura brings the photographs to life.
The museum has also been able to both display and preserve some never-before-published photographs through digital imaging at the museum that were loaned by the Keïta family for the exhibition. Some of these are on display in the exhibition, along with some hand-painted photographs which serve to reinforce that idea of the photographs as objects in themselves, not just images of people.
Along with the photographs, the exhibition includes a selection of personal belongings, textiles, garments, and jewelry that can be seen in the photographs. All of this further puts the work in context, along with a video in the last gallery that should not be missed to really put the exhibition in a deeper context.
“Materiality is a very important facet of the show, with the last room being dedicated to examples of textiles like those featured in his work,” McKinley explains. “We have Fulani ‘tapis’ wedding hangings, wrappers (‘pagnes’), boubous, religious shawls, giving visitors another dimension into the world of his photography. It’s part of the emphasis on the tactile –– the idea of ‘A Tactile Lens.’ The materiality opens new entry points for viewers.”
The exhibition also has a catalog that accompanies it, with a new essay by McKinley. It is based on extensive interviews with Keïta’s family and other leading art professionals and historians, offering new insights into the photographer, his work, and Malian material culture.
“Seydou Keïta: A Tactile Lens” is on view at the Brooklyn Museum through March 8, 2026. For more info, visit brooklynmuseum.org.