Pour Henri,18 mai 2020

‘Cool Bananas comme on dit chez nous! vraiment génial!Tu es notre championne. Voyons-nous a Paris finfévrier/début mars?’

J’ai cherché ton dernier email, Henri, qui datait de Janvier. Tu étais content… Emilie aussi. J’avais réussi à avoir le catalogue de l’expo pop up qui s’était tenue au MIAM, Musée international des arts modestes à Sète en 2003. Lebohang Kangye le voulait. Les deux phrases de ton mail résument tout: tellement drôle, plein d’énergie, gentil, pas un mail ou un coup de fil, sans encouragement, ou sans compliment. Nous nous sommes connus en 2016, à New York, à l’Armory Show. Je circulais dans les couloirs, on va plutôt dire je flânais dans les couloirs, dans une foire un peu maussade. Et puis le choc, je tombe sur la video de Lebohang Kangye, Auntie Flo et Elsa Williams:‘Pied Piper’s voyage’. Et on discute, on discute, tous les trois. Un coup de cœur pour eux, Jean-Michel m’avait déjà parlé d’eux, et Henri a organisé l’étape de Durban d’Hervé Dirosa. Nous étions donc de la même famille. Je suis repassée 20 fois sur le stand d’Afronova, montrer la video, reparler avec vous. Un petit bouquet de marguerites, au milieu de fleurs séchées.… Et depuis, toujours en contact. Avec l’anecdote du Billie Zangewa, que j’achète sans que tu me le donnes, tu voulais le prêter d’abord à un musée américain. Ca arrangeait tout le monde. A chaque fois presque que vous passiez à paris, on buvait un coup, jusqu’à la récente bière en Mars, où vous êtes passés chez moi chercher le catalogue pop up de l’exposition faite au MIAM, et me confier le book sur Lebohang Kangye. Nous souhaitions faire des choses ensemble, avec le MIAM, en particulier, nous avions du temps. Nous le prendrons, Emilie, Henri sera content de là où il est.. Je ne vous ai pas assez vu, ce jour-là. Ce n’était jamais vraiment assez..… Et le lendemain, un appel d’Henri, de remerciements pour la veille au soir, remerciements pour m’intéresser à leurs artistes, remerciements pour tout, je me rappelle tellement bien de cet appel ‘loukoum’ de ce matin-là. Merci Henri, J’ai eu la grande chance de te connaître et on va continuer avec Emilie, et avec toi. Tu m’as envoyé beaucoup d’air frais.

Today with an immense sadness, Afikaris’team would like to pay tribute to Henri Vergon and a profound support to his closest ones, Afronova Gallery and particularly his partner Emilie Demon. We were lucky to meet you and Emilie this year in February in Marrakech during 1-54 Art Fair where you immediately enchanted us with your joy of living, sense of humor and willingness to help and share with others. We only spent few days together but enough to realize what a great person you were, and we will never forget.

Rest in peace Henri.

Long life to Afronova Gallery.

Florian, Michaela and Julie

J’ai rencontré Henri pour la première fois en 2011, je me souviens de la visite à sa galerie de Joburg où assis sur les fauteuils Voltaire de Steven Cohen, nous avons bavardé tous les trois avec Antoine de Galbert et qu’il nous a si généreusement présenté la situation artistique de la ville à l’époque.

Nous ne nous connaissions finalement pas si bien mais c’était toujours une joie de le retrouver sur les foires ou à La maison rouge qu’il visitait, je crois avec curiosité, à chacun de ses voyages en France.

Je me souviens de sa dernière visite justement, pour L’envol , notre ultime exposition, où j’ai ouvert à tous les deux, les salles un lundi, jour de fermeture au public, j’ai encore en tête son émerveillent, son plaisir partagé.

Nous nous sommes vus une dernière fois à l’occasion de la foire Approches, rue du Louvrre, en novembre 2019, où nous avons parlé du travail photographique de Leboang Kganye, du chemin parcouru depuis son exposition à La maison rouge.

Je retiendrai de lui sa bonne humeur, son sourire doux, cette excitation communicative dans les yeux qui me manquera assurément.

Je pense à lui, à Emilie et à tous les artistes qui perdent un défenseur indéfectible.

Dear Henri,

にほんで あなたと あえたひのことを いまも はっきりと おぼえています。

とうきょうで、あなたは あかるくやさしく いつもエミリーとふたりで ささえあっていましたね。

あなたが なくなったときいて ほんとうにおどろきましたし、いまでも しんじられません。

エミリーとわらっているかおが きのうのことのようにうかんでいます。

さいごにもういちどあいたかったし ことしみなみあふりかにもいきたいとはなしていました。

あなたがくらす みなみあふりかがどんなばしょか いけるのをたのしみにしていました。

とてもかなしいけど、きっとてんごくで わたしたちのことを みまもってくれているのだとおもいます。

みなみあふりかの たいようのようなヘンリー。やすらかにねむってください。

Je garde précieusement en mémoire le portrait d’un type incroyablement sympa qu’on me décrivait en boucle, en amont de mon premier séjour à Joburg, en 2008 : un personnage atypique, toujours souriant et serviable, à la manière d’un véritable prince. Il s’agissait d’Henri Vergon bien sûr, et je ne pouvais que confirmer la légende qui lui collait à la peau en sortant de notre premier rendez-vous. Cela d’autant plus qu’il m’avait proposé de lui tenir au courant de mes projets, et de me filer un coup de main si besoin, alors que je ne lui avais rien demandé.

Par la suite, nous nous sommes revus régulièrement, lors d’événements artistiques en Afrique du Sud et ailleurs, et j’ai toujours adoré la simplicité de nos échanges, son sens de l’écoute, la joie de vivre et l’enthousiasme qui ne le quittaient jamais, et surtout le temps qu’il était capable de prendre et de donner dans ces occasions. J’ai aussi admiré sa relation au monde que je trouvais résolument dynamique, à l’image des multiples passerelles artistiques et géographiques qu’il a inscrit dans l’ADN d’AFRONOVA, et qui reste indissociable de l’univers complice qu’il a partagé avec Emilie.

Henri nous a sacrément pris au dépourvu en prenant le chemin de l’au-delà, mais l’intensité des souvenirs qu’il laisse est aussi symbolique que les grues éternelles du Japon, tel le récit d’Emilie qui nous avait sincèrement émus, un soir de printemps à Paris. A tout de suite, disait-il pour signifier qu’on reste en contact d’une manière bienveillante. Et mon dernier message est resté bloqué dans la boîte d’envoi, mais je voulais juste dire : Merci pour tout, très cher Henri. 

L’équipe d’Afikaris a eu la chance de faire la connaissance d’Henri et Emilie à Marrakech en février et l’entente fut immédiate. Nous avons été marqué par la gentillesse, la bonne humeur, le dynamisme et l’humour d’Henri, toujours prêt à nous donner un coup de main. En discutant avec d’autres galeries je me suis rendu compte à quel point il était apprécié et était un personnage incontournable des foires 1-54.

I first met Henri in the 1980’s at his new gallery space across from the Market Theatre in Johannesburg. This location was a center for artistic expression during the apartheid period in South Africa. His gallery was unique in that it focused on African artists during a period of time when such activities were frowned upon by the authorities, Even in the most difficult times Henri was affable, energetic, and never lost his sense of humour. He worked from apoint of view of passion, knowledge and stood behind his artists. I will always remember the energy and dedication both he and Emilie put into organizing an exhibition of mine in Japan. The show was a great success, but for Henri what mattered was the fact that people still remember this show. He was truly an international person able to link the art from the continent of Africa with the rest of the world. His presence in the art world will be surely missed.

In Memoriam of Henri Vergon for Art Africa Magazine

Henri Vergon, a stalwart of contemporary African art, passed away at his home in Johannesburg last Friday. The art world will be a poorer place without you.

Henri Vergon was passionate about Africa, was passionate about art, was passionate about people. His positive energy was infectious, his smile spontaneous and a glint of mischief in his eyes. Brendon and I first met Henri when he was working at IFAS about 20 years ago, his belief and determination to place artists from Africa and the diaspora on the international map inspired us. A generous and knowledgeable person, he offered us support and encouragement in our gallery ventures then and in the early years of publishing the (ART AFRICA) magazine.

In 2005 Henri founded Afronova Gallery in Newtown, Johannesburg – a gritty edgy area of the city. Later he and his partner in life and business – Emilie Démon – moved the space to Braamfontein. Together Henri and Emilie took the gallery and the artists they worked with to new heights showcasing on international platforms like The Armory Show, Art Paris, 1:54 Contemporary African Art Fair in New York and London. Together Henri and Emilie forged relationships with their artists exhibited at important institutions like the PAC Milan, Iziko South African National Gallery, The Studio Museum, The Smithsonian Institution, Mass Mocca, as well as foundations like Fondation Louis Vuitton in Paris, Prada Fondazione in Milan, Fondation des Galeries Lafayette in Paris, JP Morgan Chase in New York, La Maison Rouge in Paris.

RIP Henri, you left us too soon. Our condolences to his family and friends

HENRI VERGON, LE SEL DE LA VIE

L’amour et l’humour sont les deux meilleurs remparts contre l’oubli. Henri qui combinait à merveille ces deux qualités si précieuses ne sera jamais oublié par les nombreuses personnes qui ont eu le privilège de le connaître intimement. Notre première rencontre est somme toute assez récente, un soir de mars, une de ces premières belles soirées de printemps, où nous fûmes conviés à dîner chez Jenny par l’incontournable André Magnin -peut-être mon seul diner avec Henri où il ne paya pas l’addition. Les huîtres étaient bonnes mais surtout la soirée fut pétillante, et je me demandais au fil du temps qui était donc cet ovni spirituel et désopilant, si différent des canons du monde de l’art. Comme nous avions beaucoup ri, nous continuâmes la soirée dans mon appartement à République. Là, la surprise et l’émotion furent grandes pour Henri et Emilie d’y voir accrochée chez l’inconnu que j’étais encore la photo «Mami» de Tracey Rose (que j’avais achetée 17 ans auparavant au Project, l’éphémère et formidable galerie de Harlem). Appel immédiat d’Henri à Tracey Rose, et début d’une amitié indéfectible, comme entre deux frères, fondée sur les valeurs profondes d’une camaraderie spontanée, mais aussi sur un attachement tenace aux valeurs de la négritude, convaincus que nous étions que, depuis le vingtième siècle, les temps de la modernité étaient ceux de la femme et de l’homme noirs.Henri était un amoureux du continent africain, et de l’Afrique du Sud, son pays d’adoption tout particulièrement. Il me réveilla alors que j’étais à New York le 2 novembre 2019 à 4 h 19 d’un tonitruant message GO BOKKIE!!! qui m’annonçait la victoire d’une superbe équipe d’Afrique du Sud métissée en finale de la coupe du monde de rugby. Il jubilait de cette victoire plus importante à ses yeux que celle de la nation arc en ciel de Mandela en 1995. Nous en avons parlé et reparlé à satiété avec bonheur. J’ai eu Henri le 12 mai au téléphone; il était enthousiaste et heureux qu’en dépit de cette sale période les oeuvres de ses artistes aient trouvé des refuges de qualité dans diverses collections. Mais il n’oubliait pas d’être lucide et inquiet sur les souffrances imprévisibles mais probables pour la majorité silencieuse de son pays de coeur. Henri aimait la nature humaine qu’il savait ne pas jauger aux critères du matérialisme. En venant chez moi il lui était naturel de s’intéresser à mon fils de 19 ans, avec lequel Emilie parla de cuisine japonaise. En quelques bien brèves rencontres mon fils ne pouvait qu’être reconnaissant d’être ainsi considéré avec une telle humanité, et fut en conséquence désemparé par la sombre nouvelle.Je ne suis pas le plus ancien ami d’Afronova, et d’autres parleront mieux que moi du rôle passionné, bienveillant et protecteur d’Henri pour tous ses artistes, mais mon admiration pour cette enseigne unique est sans limite. Henri était un passeur formidable : ce qu’il aimait et défendait nous l’aimions naturellement. Il était le sel de la vie. Il n’est pas parti, il s’est éloigné, et il veillera, du haut de sa retraite, sur Emilie pour qu’elle poursuive la si belle aventure d’Afronova.

Cher Henri,

Je lis les lignes magnifiques écrites sur toi depuis le 16 mai dernier, des quatre coins du monde. Avec une immense tristesse, beaucoup de fierté et aussi un grand sourire.

Je repense au bogoss qui a débarqué, un jour de 1996, Wolhuter Street à Newtown, les mains dans les poches, le sourire ravageur, les chaussures bicolores, un peu branleur. Tu gloussais de ce petit rire aigu. Tu faisais des moulinets avec les mains. Je débarquais juste, moi aussi, dans ce laboratoire extraordinaire qu’était alors l’IFAS, dans une Afrique du Sud en pleine effervescence qui commençait à peine à renouer avec le monde. Et je t’observais avec interrogation, séduit, bien sûr, par ton charme irrésistible et sincère, mais aussi méfiant devant ton côté insaisissable. 

18 mois plus tard, c’est chez toi, naturellement, que j’ai fêté mon départ d’Afrique du Sud, dans la grande maison avec la piscine vide, et ta coccinelle jaune décapotable garée devant. Agapes mémorables, à l’image de ton immense générosité. Thierry, Marie, Laurent, Claude, Perrine… nous sommes tous repartis, les uns après les autres, vers d’autres horizons. Qui l’eut cru, c’est toi, Henri, qui est resté! Tu es devenu pour moi le symbole de ces années initiatiques. A chaque passage à Johannesburg, je te savais là, comme un témoin fidèle d’une époque pour moi révolue. On se voyait peu – tu étais toujours aussi insaisissable – mais à chaque fois avec une émotion indicible: dans ta galerie au, sous sol du Old FUBA Building; à Somerset House, avec Émilie. Les années passaient, mais le temps, sur toi, n’avait aucune prise, n’entamait en rien ton énergie survoltée, ton enthousiasme débordant, tes projets sans fin. 

On est venu passer 3 mois magiques à Joburg, il y a quelques années, avec Erez. Tu es la première personne que j’ai appelée. On s’est parlé une dizaine de fois au téléphone. Sans réussir à se voir, accaparé que tu étais par ta vie. Tu fais chier Henri, je m’étais dit à l’époque. Oui tu fais chier. Tu me manques aujourd’hui. 

Je me souviens avec beaucoup de couleurs de notre rencontre. Sur les conseils de Marianne, j’avais achete une oeuvre de Senzeni que je devais recuperer a votre booth a la foire 1-54; c’etait l’occasion de vous rencontrer. Nous avons parle de l’oeuvre, du travail de Senzeni, puis de tout, de tous les artistes que vous mettiez en avant, de vos projets. Toujours cela: une energie genereuse qui se deversait dans l’art. C’etait exactement ce que j’aimais et qui a toujours fait la beaute de ce que vous avez apporte au monde de l’art: une passion pour decouvrir, decouvrir au travers des oeuvres d’art la beaute et l’humanite. Henri donnait sa passion aux artistes–et il les amenait a nous tous. Un detour par Afronova et je repartais quelques heures apres, perdu a discuter de ces nouveaux talents qu’il avait decouvert, de ceux avec qui vous travailliez et qui apportaient de nouvelles choses. C’etait un oeil rare, car il savait trouver la valeur dans l’intimite de l’artiste, celle qui l’amene a faire avancer l’art.Il est parti bien trop tot. J’aurais voulu tellement plus de dejeuners au passage Vivienne, d ‘echanges, de projets de foire; juste le plaisir d’etre avec vous et de puiser par cela un peu de votre generosite et de votre amour.Vous etiez beaux ensemble, vous nourrissant mutuellement de tout cela. C’est aussi cette image que je garde, de vos sourires, de cette complicite unique. Aujourd’hui, dans ce moment si difficile,je suis sur que tu sauras garder ce beau sourire, cette force qui vous animez ensemble, et continuer de construire cette belle entreprise qui a tant grandi déjà entre vos mains.

Henri’s warm personality struck me from the first time I met him in Paris. His kindness, enthusiasm, dynamism,generosity and sharing attitude were so inherent to his own character. The image that I will keep as memory is that of someone who enjoyed life, who was committed to art, at the service of the artists above all. The South African art world is losing a great personality. I trust that all his actions will remain as such.

How I wish to have more time to share the joburg city stories with you, attentively you listened, and poured all your heart to arts, not for me only but for many. You strongly believed in me and my art when many art industry doors rejected me, and couldn’t stop to help and nourish it by any means that it stayed relevant and contemporary strong within the same visual spectrum that is decline by. Thank you for the books and the industry talks that opened my eyes wider and have changed me into doing « better habits ». » you were and still an Art warrior », you carried art in your eyes and never blinked twice when you saw raw talent. Your warm and joyful presence will always be felt. Rest in power, will always love and miss you in the name of art.

I have known Henri for as long as I have been a Photographer. Over 20 years. I have blurred visions of the days hanging out at his gallery next to the Yard of Ale in Newtown . We were all young and wild. The more vivid memories are from recent times… sitting around the table on the patio at Henri and Emilie’s home and the many artists, collectors and friends sharing laughter, food and a glass of wine. Henri and Emilie gatherings, where a wonderful way to bring artists, curators and friends together. Henri, was a true gentleman, always generous and full of jokes … I felt welcome and appreciated by Henri and could engage in long conversations about photography, the industry, the garden and life. I will miss seeing his cheeky face, sparkling eyes, friendly smile from across the room at the next art event. You will always form part of our Jozi landscape and you will be missed.

Whenever I would see Henri Vergon manning one of Afronova’s well-appointed stands at a busy art fair, it was never business as usual. Our faces would light-up with excitement and he would immediately begin telling me about his newest artist. Henri was a passionate believer in every artist he represented, and could speak eloquently and sensitively about their work for hours. As an admired and respected member of the African art community, he proved that kindness and professionalism should always go hand-in-hand. At every occasion, Henri greeted the world with his signature cocktail of wit and charisma, a combination that helped make Afronova the leading gallery it is today. Henri will be remembered and missed byeveryone who was lucky enough to see him smile.

A pure, beautiful human being. Beyond an art representative, Henri was first a dear friend, like a family member that Divesh and I cherished so much. His uncontrollable selfless care for others, treating people with respect, love and as equals always made us feel blessed when we were with him. It was the thing about Henri, you knew you were genuinely cared about.

I feel like it was just yesterday that we were walking in the streets of Paris at night. Talking, laughing, thinking and planning excitedly about the future all together. He didn’t only care about my work but also about me. We were friends first. And Henri didn’t put people in boxes with labels. He didn’t categorize people. He treated everyone with respect and dignity. Always told me that what comes first is the trust and the friendship. And that’s what drew me into the fine art industry which I thought I couldn’t trust before, it was Henri and Emilie. I thought, oh, people have so much to learn from them as they succeed further and further.

Henri, you always made me feel welcome when I felt like many others did not, you knew how I felt like an outsider and a misfit, and you -somehow between all your energetic social life and circles-, understood that feeling of being a misfit, you celebrated these parts of my personality too, and felt amused by my rebellious acts. You completely understood my work which is a big part of me, you understood it beyond its surface. You tirelessly listened to my obsessions and dreams of adventures of Antarctica and northern Russia, exhibitions in Japan, making movies, Hillbrow, my(and our) love for SA and all those projects I shoot in KZN (and more) every time we sat together around the table in your garden and you gave little looks to Emilie while laughing at my excitement. We talked about movies, books, life and how we’d conquer the world. You and Emilie would get so excited that you would start talking over each other and I would laugh at you two.

You asked about what I think, how I feel about things. Your interest in even in the smaller details, your humanism was electrifying, and even with my partner you always cared about equally when he was around. I can not explain how much I’m going to miss being able to talk to you, and since your departure, I have so many regrets about not spending more time with you guys last year. It took me almost 10 years to find you and Emilie as an artist, and we only had 2 years of knowing each other, and I just wish we had so many more together. It will forever be a yearning. You were a special person, I feel like Divesh and I lost a friend who was meant to be in our lives until we were old and grumpy people.

I know you are on a new journey right now; life as we know is just a limited illusion, and there is actually never an end to it but it’s just different journeys. But I will miss you. For now, we will go ahead and do all those plans for you, then will celebrate them for you with some wine every time, and talk about you and laugh and get sad over the memories we had together. We will always cherish these times we had together. Divesh and I are lucky to have met you.

Until we meet again my dear friend.

Version française

La passion d’Henri Vergon, fondateur de la galerie Afronova, pour l’art contemporain Africain était contagieuse. À l’entente du nom d’un artiste dont il admirait l’œuvre, ses yeux s’illuminaient. Il faisait alors l’éloge de leur travail avec un large sourire, tout en rythmant son récit d’éclats de rire et de grands gestes un peu maladroits. Nous discutions d’art, de culture,d’histoire et de politique, comme des enfants.J’ai eu la chance de rencontrer Henri et Émilie Demon, sa compagne de vie et de travail à Afronova, lors de ma première visite à Johannesburg en février 2018. Je rédigeais une thèse sur la jeune génération de photographes issus du Market Photo Workshop, une école de photographie fondée par David Goldblatt en 1989. Ce séjour s’était rapidement transformé en une course effrénée pour interviewer artistes, professeurs, curateurs et galeristes ayant travaillé ou étant en contact avec les étudiants du MPW. Je m’étais rendue à Parkhurst chez Henri et Émilie, armée d’un microphone et d’une série de questions. Ma méthode bien calibrée fut vite désarçonnée par l’accueil enthousiaste que le couple me réserva. J’en oubliais le microphone et mes questions préparées. Je me sentis comme à la maison. Nous échangions des idées sur ma recherche, discutions du travail des artistes qui nous intéressaient, parlions de nos vies et parcours respectifs à Johannesburg et à Londres tout en buvant un verre de vin. Henri s’éclipsa quelques minutes puis revint avec un livre de photographies de l’artiste Nontsikelelo Veleko qu’il m’offrit aussitôt. Émilie invita le couple d’artistes Mary Sibande et Lawrence Lemaoana à nous rejoindre pour diner. Notre conversation continua jusque tard dans la nuit et s’acheva par une chaleureuse étreinte devant le taxi qui m’attendait. La soirée passée avec Henri et Émilie fut sans aucun doute la plus magique de mon séjour. La générosité et la spontanéité d’Henri et d’Émilie m’ont profondément marqué. Notre relation amicale continua, ponctuée par des appels téléphoniques, des mails, ainsi que des nouvelles soirées surprenantes. Je les retrouvais à 1-54, Londres. La foire était terminée et nous étions restés sur une terrasse pour discuter encore. Je me rappelle ma jambe dans le plâtre en équilibre sur une chaise (un mauvais accident de hip hop), les rires d’Émilie, et le humus que nous dégustions ce soir-là. Nous nous revîmes chez eux à Johannesburg, une année plus tard. J’y rencontrais alors l’artiste Mauro Pinto, Lorraine Gobin d’Of Soul and Joy, et y retrouvais l’artiste et mon amie Lebohang Kganye et Lawrence Lemaoana. L’ambiance était chaleureuse et les échanges riches. Les sujets de conversation fusaient. Henri se tenait debout, tournant autour de la table et discutant avec les différents invités, rempli d’énergie. Il fit plusieurs photos. Nous nous esclaffions. J’en oubliais presque l’avion qui me ramènerait plus tard dans la soirée. Ce brouhaha, ce mélange de voix, de langues, d’accents, de chaises que l’on déplace, et de vaisselle qui s’entrechoque résonne encore dans mes oreilles. J’en garde très précieusement le souvenir. Merci Henri et Émilie

English version

Henri Vergon, the founder of Afronova Gallery, cultivated a passion for contemporaryAfrican art that was contagious. When hearing the name of an artist he admired, his eyes would shine. He would explain why he loved their work so much with a large smile on his face and accompany his speech with laugher and wide arm gestures that could make him look a bit clumsy. We used to talk about art, culture, history and politics, like children.

I got the chance to meet Henri and Émilie Demon, his life and working partner at

Afronova, during my first visit to Johannesburg in February 2018. I was writing at the

time a thesis on the young generation of photographers studying at the Market Photo Workshop, a school of photography funded in 1989 by David Goldblatt. This

research trip had quickly turned into a frantic rush to interview artists, teachers,

curators and gallerists who had worked or were in touch with MPW students. I went

to Henri and Émilie’s home in Parkhurst, armed with a microphone and a series of

carefully planned questions. The couple gave me such a warm and enthusiastic

welcome that my well-orchestrated method seemed suddenly inadequate. I forgot to use my microphone and my prepared questions. I relaxed and felt at home. We shared ideas for my research, discussed the work of artists we liked, talked about our lives and own experiences in London and Johannesburg while drinking a glass of wine. Henri left the room for a minute and came back with a gift; a photography book by the artist Nontsikelelo Veleko. Émilie invited the couple and artists Mary Sibande and Lawrence Lemaoana to join us for dinner. Our conversation continued late in the night and ended with a friendly embrace in front of the taxi that was waiting for me. The evening spent with Henri and Émile was, without doubt, one of the most magical

of my stay in Johannesburg.

Henri’s and Émilie’s generosity and spontaneity had a profound impact on me. Our friendship lasted, nurtured by phone calls, emails and a few more extraordinary evenings. I met them again at 1-54 in London. The fair had just closed, and we had decided to sit outside in the courtyard to discuss a bit longer. I remember my leg in a cast (an unfortunate hip-hop accident) placed on top of a wonky chair, Émilie’s laughter, and the humus we tasted that evening. We saw each other again in their home in Johannesburg, one year later. On this occasion, I met the artist Mauro Pinto, Lorraine Gobin from Of Soul and Joy, and reunited with the artist and my friend Lebohang Kganye and Lawrence Lemaoana. The atmosphere was cheerful, and the discussion topics rich and varied. Ideas and experiences were shared from one side of the table to the other. Henri was standing, turning around the table and talking with all the guests, full of energy. He took a few pictures. We were laughing so much. I almost forgot the plane that would take me back to London later that night. The mix of voices, languages and accents, together with the sound of chairs scraping the floor and glasses being clinked together still resonate in my ears. I will hold this memory close to my heart.

Thank you Henri and Emilie

We are so incredibly incredibly sorry for your loss. And that the world is now absent of Henri’s singular passion and energy. 

We actually cannot believe it. Henri is the last person we would have imagined to leave this life so early. His energy was massive, and compelling. 

You may not know, but we were owners of a small coffeeshop on the corner of Juta Street in Braamfontein from 2010-2019, around the corner from what used to be Afronova Gallery. This was the first time we got to meet Henri, seeing him regularly for coffee and takeaway meals. Our staff always spoke of the joy of seeing him walking around the corner through the glass windows, usually with a slight skip in his step and whistling and a big warm smile as he walked through the front door of the cafe. 

He will not be forgotten. 

‘The sad realisation that we will no longer have the opportunity to be in Henri’s cheerful presence ever again is slowly starting to sink in. He was always someone who uplifted one’s spirits the moment you interacted with him, be it on the phone, at an art function or with friends. I first met Henri when he worked at the French Institute in Johannesburg c.1995 and in all the years I knew him he was always a super-friendly powerhouse of energy and enthusiasm. Even though nearly 20 years in age separated us we had great laughs together as his sense of humour was as whacky as mine, if not more so.

Although I was not part of the stable of Afronova’s artists I was always aware of the warm, friendly and close relationships he had with his artists and of his love for the cultural aspects of South Africa and Africa. I will always remember the openings at Afronova which were abuzz with Henri’s welcoming and down-to-earth personality. He will be greatly missed and leaves a huge hole in all the lives he touched.’

Sending much love from both of us

Janet & Norman

Emilie, je pense très fort à toi. Je suis extrêmement touché, comme rarement, par le décès d’Henri malgré le peu de temps passé en sa compagnie. J’avais tellement envie de partager d’autres moments avec lui, continuer à apprécier sa personnalité hors norme, sa culture, sa passion, son côté punk et wild side. Je pense qu’il ne suffit pas de bien connaître quelqu’un pour l’aimer.. Je t’embrasse de tout mon cœur

Version française

Art contemporain: disparition du fondateur d’Afronova, Henri Vergon
Pour RFI

Le critique d’art sud-africain Sean O’Toole est le premier à avoir pris sa plume pour rendre un vibrant hommage à Henri Vergon, figure incontournable du Johannesburg artistique. Retraçant le parcours de ce Français devenu Sud-Africain dans l’âme, au point de se faire appeler Henri « Nkosi » Vergon – un prénom sud-africain répandu – il cite une interview que le jeune galeriste avait donnée en 2006 au sujet de son pays d’adoption. « Je suis né de nouveau ici. Je suis devenu un nouvel homme. Tous ceux que je rencontrais étaient complètement ouverts. Tous avaient été fragmentés par l’histoire récente. Ils se questionnaient : d’où venaient-ils, qu’avaient fait leurs pères ? Ils essayaient de faire sens et de s’octroyer une place dans l’avenir, en construisant un nouveau monde. J’ai jeté toutes mes anciennes carapaces et j’ai sauté tête en avant dans la même piscine ».

Une galerie à Newtown

Né à Bruxelles en 1968, Henri Vergon avait un passeport français, mais il était un citoyen du monde. Bien avant de tomber amoureux de sa femme au début des années 2000 au Japon, il s’est établi en 1995 à Johannesburg, après un tour à New-York, en pleine euphorie post-apartheid. Il a quitté son emploi à l’Institut français de Johannesburg pour lancer en 2005 sa galerie, Afronova, dans le quartier culturel de Newtown. « Les gens lui disaient : ‘Tu es fou ! Les riches ne vont pas à Newtown, c’est un coupe-gorge‘ », se souvient Emilie Démon, sa femme et partenaire franco-japonaise.

A l’époque, l’explosion de l’art contemporain africain sur la scène internationale n’en était qu’à ses débuts. Le marché tournait autour de deux ou trois galeries historiques et huppées en Afrique du Sud, qui ne faisaient plus l’affaire pour la création contemporaine. Henri Vergon s’est inscrit dans un renouveau porté par plusieurs autres galeries nées à la même époque, comme Momo à Johannesburg.

Sa vitrine était stratégiquement située face au Market Theater, l’une des plus grandes institutions culturelles du pays. Henri Vergon a rapidement établi sa notoriété avec flair, enthousiasme, et une loyauté à toute épreuve envers les artistes. Il n’a pas seulement montré pour la première fois en Afrique – hors du Mali – le grand photographe Malick Sidibé, en collaboration avec le marchand d’art français André Magnin. Il a aussi découvert l’une des artistes devenue les plus cotées du marché sud-africain, Billie Zangewa.

Une philosophie de la fête et de l’inclusion

Contraint de fermer sa galerie en raison des travaux de rénovation entrepris à Newtown, Henri Vergon l’a déplacée à la fin des années 2000 dans le quartier – autrefois administratif – de Braamfontein, à la sortie du centre-ville. Au début, Afronova représente une adresse phare de la zone, qui ne tarde pas à se « gentrifier » avec les développements immobiliers. « En 2014, ça ne nous intéressait plus de voir passer des gens avec leurs bières bio, raconte Emilie Démon. On s’est dit qu’on aller injecter l’argent du loyer de la galerie dans les artistes, pour voyager avec eux et les accompagner différemment ».

Au lieu d’attendre à Johannesburg des directeurs de musée et des commissaires d’expositions anglais et américains, Henri Vergon a investi pour aller avec les artistes à leur rencontre. La galerie est ainsi devenue « virtuelle » avant l’heure, son patron continuant néanmoins ses fêtes épiques. Il a longtemps organisé des dîners d’artistes très courus, tous les vendredis soir au restaurant mythique du Gramadoelas, haut-lieu de la cuisine sud-africaine niché à l’entrée du Market Theatre.m’abonne

Dans sa villa au toit bleu de Parkhurst, un quartier bohème de la banlieue résidentielle de Johannesburg, Henri Vergon a poursuivi ses fêtes d’anthologie, où il accueillait les artistes de tous les horizons, y compris ceux d’autres galeries.

Des artistes dont la cote n’a cessé de grimper

Cet homme jovial et généreux, qui aimait lire le journal en prenant son café le matin, « un peu old-fashion dans ses manières de gentleman », dit sa femme, a énormément compté dans la carrière de jeunes artistes femmes comme Lebohang Kganye et Senzeni Marasela, mais aussi de Lawrence Leaomana. Cet artiste né en 1982 à Johannesburg est aujourd’hui connu pour ses toiles brodées à teneur hautement politique. Elles portent des messages tels que : « I did not join the struggle to be poor » (Je n’ai pas rejoint la lutte contre l’apartheid pour être pauvre), ou encore « Les idiots se multiplient lorsque les hommes sages gardent le silence ».

« Lorsqu’on a commencé à travailler avec Lawrence, il était persuadé qu’il était un has-been, témoigne Emilie Démon. A la foire 1-54 à Londres, il a fait un carton qui lui a permis de payer sa lobola (dot) et de se marier ». Ses toiles s’arrachent aujourd’hui aux alentours de 9000 euros. La Fondation Louis Vuitton en a acheté sept d’un coup.

L’influence de Henri Vergon a dépassé le cadre de sa propre galerie, puisqu’il se faisait un plaisir de faire visiter « son » Johannesburg à tous les curators, directeurs de musée et étrangers culturels de passage. Sa vision ouverte sur le monde, en fin connaisseur des enjeux politiques qui sont ceux de l’art africain, a notamment laissé une profonde empreinte sur l’exposition « Being There » consacrée en 2017 à l’art contemporain africain par la Fondation Louis Vuitton, à Paris. « Sa spécificité, c’est qu’il voulait faire rayonner Johannesburg et les artistes, sans cloisonner et se contenter de ceux d’Afronova. C’est tellement rare que les gens apprécient ». Emilie Démon reprend le flambeau à la tête d’Afronova et va faire vivre la passion de Henri Vergon.

English version by Teller Report

The South African art critic Sean O’Toole is the first to have taken up his pen to pay a vibrant tribute to Henri Vergon, a key figure in artistic Johannesburg. Tracing the journey of this Frenchman who became South African at heart, to the point of calling himself Henri « Nkosi » Vergon – a common South African first name – he quotes an interview that the young gallery owner had given in 2006 about his country of adoption.  » I was born again here. I became a new man. Everyone I met was completely open. All had been fragmented by recent history. They wondered: where did they come from, what had their fathers done? They were trying to make sense and take a place in the future, by building a new world. I threw away all of my old shells and jumped forward into the same pool  . ”

A gallery in Newtown

Born in Brussels in 1968, Henri Vergon had a French passport, but he was a citizen of the world. Long before falling in love with his wife in the early 2000s in Japan, he settled in 1995 in Johannesburg, after a trip to New York, in the midst of post-apartheid euphoria. He quit his job at the French Institute in Johannesburg in 2005 to launch his gallery, Afronova, in the cultural district of Newtown . “  People said to him, ‘ You are crazy! The rich do not go to Newtown, it is a cut-throat ‘, remembers Emilie Démon, his wife and Franco-Japanese partner.

At the time, the explosion of contemporary African art on the international scene was still in its infancy. The market revolved around two or three historic and upscale galleries in South Africa, which were no longer suitable for contemporary creation. Henri Vergon is part of a revival carried by several other galleries born at the same time, like Momo in Johannesburg.

Its window was strategically located opposite the Market Theater, one of the largest cultural institutions in the country. Henri Vergon quickly established his notoriety with flair, enthusiasm, and a foolproof loyalty to artists. He did not only show for the first time in Africa – outside Mali – the great photographer Malick Sidibé, in collaboration with the French art dealer André Magnin. He also discovered one of the most highly rated artists on the South African market, Billie Zangewa.

A philosophy of celebration and inclusion

Forced to close his gallery due to the renovation work undertaken in Newtown, Henri Vergon moved it in the late 2000s to the – formerly administrative – district of Braamfontein, just outside the city center. At the beginning, Afronova represented a flagship address in the area, which wasted no time in « gentrifying » with real estate developments.  »  In 2014, we were no longer interested in seeing people pass by with their organic beers, » says Emilie Démon. We thought we were going to inject the money from the gallery’s rent into the artists, to travel with them and accompany them differently  ”.

Instead of waiting in Johannesburg for museum directors and curators of English and American exhibitions, Henri Vergon invested to go with the artists to meet them. The gallery thus became “virtual” before the hour, its boss nevertheless continuing its epic celebrations. He has long organized very popular artists’ dinners, every Friday evening at the legendary Gramadoelas restaurant, a Mecca for South African cuisine nestled at the entrance of the Market Theater.

In his blue-roofed villa in Parkhurst, a bohemian neighborhood in the residential suburb of Johannesburg, Henri Vergon continued his anthology parties, where he welcomed artists from all walks of life, including those from other galleries.

Artists whose ratings have continued to climb

This jovial and generous man, who liked to read the newspaper while having coffee in the morning,  »  a little old-fashion in his manners gentleman  « , says his wife, has enormously counted in the career of young female artists like Lebohang Kganye and Senzeni Marasela, but also of Lawrence Leaomana. This artist born in 1982 in Johannesburg is known today for his highly political embroidered canvases. They carry messages such as:  »  I did not join the struggle to be poor   » (I did not join the struggle against apartheid to be poor), or  »  Idiots multiply when wise men remain silent  « 

“  When we started working with Lawrence, he was convinced that he was a has-been, says Emilie Démon . At the 1-54 fair in London, he made a box that allowed him to pay his lobola (dowry) and to get married  ”. The Louis Vuitton Foundation bought seven at once.

The influence of Henri Vergon went beyond the framework of his own gallery, since he was happy to show “his” Johannesburg to all curators, museum directors and cultural foreigners passing through. His vision open to the world, a fine connoisseur of the political issues that are those of African art, notably left a deep imprint on the exhibition « Being There » devoted in 2017 to contemporary African art by the Louis Vuitton Foundation , in Paris. “  Its specificity is that it wanted to make Johannesburg and the artists shine, without partitioning and being content with those of Afronova. It’s so rare that people like it  . ” Emilie Démon takes up the torch at the head of Afronova and will bring to life the passion of Henri Vergon.

A Life well lived

When I think of you, one thing immediately comes tomy mind–your smile–it seemed to be permanently placed on your face. I don’t think I have ever seen you scowl once. The other thing that also comes to my mind is that I think of all the people I have had the privilege of coming across, if I had to think of one person I would say totally lived their life, your name would be on the top 10 list. You truly learned how to cherish life and live it fully and werenever interested in the trappings of what society would call a life well lived. You truly embraced the true essence of what it means to live through your metier. A love for the arts; a love for the artists, and not just your own artists; a love for the true meaning behind the art; a love for storytelling; a love for making others succeed. Because of these things, I believe you lived well and that in itself is a precious gift. Living well does not mean you didn’t have your challenges or your moments of strife. You lived with hope, strength, grace and love and forthat, thank you for sharing your life with us and leaving this world a brighter and better place than you found it. Rest in Peace our dear Henry. May God hold you in his bosom and continue to look down on your Emilie, Thierry, rest of your family and friends

Version française

La disparition d’un ami de trente ans, ça fait mal, ça fait très mal. Quelle période épouvantable!

 Avec Henri Vergon, nous nous sommes rencontrés dans le réseau culturel français du continent africain, lui était à l’Institut Français d’Afrique du Sud à Johannesburg, moi à l’Alliance Française d’Addis Abeba, comme délégué général.Nous avions en partage un certain nombre de valeurs éthiques relatives à nos pratiques professionnelles respectives.
Il était mon cadet mais il m’a souvent montré la voie, notamment par une implication totale et généreuse dans les sphères culturelles et artistiques de son pays d’accueil. Sa profonde connaissance des milieux artistiques et des institutions culturelles lui a permis de porter des projets artistiques emblématiques qu’il mettait en œuvre à Joburg. J’étais conquis par son charisme et les relations de proximité qu’il entretenait avec les milieux artistiques.

Ma nomination à Maputo pour diriger le Centre Culturel Franco Mozambicain a consolidé nos liens en nous rapprochant géographiquement. C’est à cette époque qu’Henri a créé Afronova et ouvert sa Galerie dans le quartier de Newtown, devant le légendaire Market Theater. Dès lors nos rencontres professionnelles et amicales se sont succédées. Je me souviens de l’accueil qu’il a su réserver aux photographes mozambicains avec lesquels je travaillais à Maputo.Je pense notamment à l’immense photographe Ricardo Rangel qu’il a exposé à Johannesburg et au jeune Mauro Pinto. J’étais séduit par son professionnalisme et la relation de confiance qu’il suscitait auprès des artistes, créant des amitiés sincères qui perdurent jusqu’à aujourd’hui.Henri m’a aidé à mieux connaître la scène etla création artistiques sud-africaines. Son introduction auprès des artistes de son pays de résidence a considérablement enrichi la programmation artistique du centre culturel que je dirigeais au Mozambique. Ce qu’il faisait pour moi, il le faisait avec bien d’autres. Pour les professionnels français et européens de la culture, il devient rapidement la personne incontournable à contacter pour mieux appréhender les milieux artistiques et découvrir les pépites de la création artistique sud-africaine.



J’ai été séduit par ce collègue et ami lorsqu’il a pris tous les risques en quittant une situation plutôt confortable au sein du réseau culturel français pour créer sa propre entreprise culturelle en Afrique du Sud, pays où il aimait vivre et travailler.Malgré les difficultés,notamment financières, Afronova a mis en place en 2005 une politique autant exigeante qu’originale d’accueil et de promotion de la jeune création artistique africaine. Henri a été un des premiers à exposer à Johannesburg des artistes contemporains du continent, pour la plupart encore peu connus des professionnels et des collectionneurs nationaux et internationaux.

Emilie est ensuite arrivée aux côtés d’Henri, apportant avec elle une touche féminine ainsi qu’un goût et une connaissance des arts visuels. Dès lors, la galerie Afronova s’est tournée en direction d’artistes émergents de la scène artistique des arts visuels, tout en continuant d’accompagner ces artistes dans le développement de leur carrière. Ensembles, Emilie e tHenri ont fait de leur galerie un lieu incontournable au-delà des frontières sud-africaines, où l’humain est privilégié et où la jeune création africaine est promue et diffusée. Ils ont peu à peu participé à de nombreuses foires d’art contemporain à travers le monde entier,notamment 1-54. Leur stand est un lieu où il fait bon s’arrêter pour rencontrer leurs nombreux amis du monde des Arts.
 Pour Henri, Afronova ne doit pas disparaître

English version

« The disappearance of a 30-year-old friend hurts, it hurts very much. What a dreadful time! With Henri Vergon, we met in the French cultural network of the African continent, he was at the French Institute of South Africa in Johannesburg, I was at the Alliance Française in Addis Abeba, as General Delegate. We shared a number of ethical values relating to our respective professional practices. He was my youngest but he often showed me the way, in particular through his total and generous involvement in the cultural and artistic spheres of his host country. His deep knowledge of the artistic circles and cultural institutions enabled him to bring emblematic artistic projects that he implemented in Joburg. I was won over by his charisma and the close relationship he had with the artistic circles. My appointment in Maputo to head the Franco-Mozambican Cultural Centre consolidated our ties by bringing us closer together geographically. It was at this time that Henri created Afronova and opened his Gallery in the Newtown district, in front of the legendary Market Theater. From then on, our professional and friendly encounters followed one another. I remember the welcome he gave to the Mozambican photographers I worked with in Maputo. I am thinking in particular of the immense photographer Ricardo Rangel whom he exhibited in Johannesburg and the young Mauro Pinto. I was seduced by his professionalism and the relationship of trust he created with the artists, creating sincere friendships that continue to this day. Henri helped me to get to know the South African artistic scene and creation better. His introduction to the artists of his country of residence greatly enriched the artistic programming of the cultural centre I ran in Mozambique. What he did for me, he did with many others. For French and European cultural professionals, he quickly became the essential person to contact in order to better understand artistic circles and discover the nuggets of South African artistic creation. I was seduced by this colleague and friend when he took all the risks by leaving a rather comfortable situation within the French cultural network to create his own cultural company in South Africa, a country where he loved to live and work. Despite the difficulties, especially financial, Afronova set up in 2005 a policy as demanding as it is original to welcome and promote young African artistic creation. Henri was one of the first to exhibit in Johannesburg contemporary artists from the continent, most of whom are still little known to professionals and national and international collectors. Emilie then arrived at Henri’s side, bringing with her a feminine touch as well as a taste and knowledge of the visual arts. From then on, Afronova turned its attention to emerging artists of the visual arts scene, while continuing to accompany these artists in the development of their careers. Together, Emilie and Henri have made Afronova an essential gallery well beyond the borders of South Africa, a gallery where the human being is privileged, a gallery for the promotion and dissemination of young South African creation. Little by little, they have participated in numerous contemporary art fairs around the world, notably 1:54. Their stand became a place where it was good to stop and meet their many friends from the art world. For Henri, Afronova must not disappear. »

I drove through parkhurst yesterday and I thought of you and Henri driving in that yellow beetle with the roof down. It was a bitter sweet memory. My fondest memory is of going to Billie’s Afronova opening at the market theatre. That gallery will forever be a reminder of what Henri achieved in the art world and here in SA. He will be missed on so many levels. Stay strong and let the good memories help wash away the pain

I first met Henri in Brooklyn in May 2016. He was manning his Afranova booth at the 1:54 art fair, and I was researching artists for the Walther Collection project that would become the exhibition and book Recent Histories: Contemporary African Photography and Video. My plan was to first conduct a brisk walk-through of the entire fair before deciding where to linger, but something about Henri’s open, friendly demeanor caught me. Our connection was instant, and before I knew it an hour had passed. We made plans to meet later that month in Johannesburg so he could introduce me to his artists and the art he believed in.

I remain grateful for those introductions, but what stands out about the times we spent together  and our conversations over the next few years was the space he gently cultivated for our shared enthusiasms to grow. Henri was passionate, gracious, and loyal, and struck me as someone who had made a decision at some fateful juncture in his life to give his all for the things and the people he loved, with no guarantee of a reward. His stories and selflessness were contagious. He embodied a unique combination of qualities I respected and learned from, and miss dearly. Those of us who were lucky to know him carry his light.

And everything in between

I remember the gracious way Henri Vergon opened the door for me (literally that time because in the decades that followed he did it so often figuratively) at the second Johannesburg Biennale in 1997. I was in drag, in a dress made out of four kilograms of weed, after having just done an uninvited performance at the Biennale opening (the overarching theme of which was Trade Routes).

Henri was beaming, gracious, extra-full of life and energised by risk-taking art. That is how i will always remember Henri … opening doors… in my life, my work, my heart.

Over the quarter of a century i had the privilege of knowing Henri there is too much to recall but nothing i forget. We were immediately bonded by some unquestionable destiny… took no effort … brought so much joy.  Such deep conversations lightly had with such life-changing revelations, true mentorship.

I think back on times i was with Henri and Emilie, Henri and John Hodgkiss, Henri and Elu … and most of all, us two alone together. Times in Caen, in Lille, in Paris, and especially in Johannesburg, in Art – our shared obsession. Time in galleries, in homes, in restaurants, in some other very strange locations, in talking and laughing in places immaterial. So many and much and yet not enough.

I think back on Henri’s delight when i gate-crashed the stuffy Chagall opening, crawling with a kudu-head attached to mine, Henri’s vicarious vindication at the scandal of the cock intervention i got arrested for in Paris, Henri’s sage advice in his many studio visits, Henri with me at John’s funeral, Henri with me in hospital when Elu was dying … Henri with me in my happiest times too, as well as in my loneliest moments … saying farewell to my life in Jhb, my dead soulmate, my empty house … that dark night, Henri was with me to bolster me.

And Henri, much as he loved my work and for no reason i can think of, really loved me. I have never met a man with such a far-ranging capacity to love deeply.

Henri forgave me some transgressions, spoke well of me to important people, constantly checked in, seemed to always intuitively know where i was in my messed-up head. Thinking back on my life will always include a happy face in a yellow volkswagen whisking me off for some seriously mad adventures. Decades of Henri-ness.

In 2000 when i was totally impoverished and struggling to make Chandelier happen i asked Henri if IFAS could help. He knew that wasn’t going to happen, so Henri independently organised me and elu a residency at Crosspaths in Newtown (near the intervention site of CHANDELIER) and he put his hand in his pocket and gave me a wad of his own cash towards completing the project. Asked nothing in return … and then still gave me the chance to perform the work at his Playtime festival in Newtown. Henri’s light will always be reflected in the work CHANDELIER which twenty years later was acquired by Iziko/South African National Gallery.

I had, what seems now to be, a prescient last exchange with Henri by a WhatsApp he sent me from my most recent show at Stevenson in Johannesburg while I was in France. A short video clip of Henri blowing kisses at a wall-sized portrait of me in make-up commenting ‘WITH LOVE!’. I responded with  ’imagine! I kiss you too’, ‘You are larger than Life’ writes Henri. ‘but smaller than Death’ i answer. ‘and everything in between’ writes Henri finally.

I am so grateful for everything in between Henri. Your smart, incisive, funny, profound, passionate complex understanding of contemporary art, yes of course, but your loving friendship … that most of all.

A week before Henri died he sent me a mail in response to a covid-19 self-portrait i had mailed him. ‘You are beautiful’…not true. A couple of days later i answered him ‘love you’…true.

Henri Vergon will always have a sacred place in my life. Of all the many artists Henri inspired, supported, motivated and nourished, i am grateful and proud to be one of them.

Je me souviens du jour où nous nous sommes rencontrés. C’était il y a 13 ans dans ta galerie, à Newtown, dans l’immeuble de l’IFAS. Tu exposais Malick Sidibé, qui était là lui aussi, assis sur une chaise. La soirée s’était poursuivie au restaurant du Market Theatre, juste en face, où tu avais invité tout le monde. Ton rire tonitruant, inimitable et imparable était déjà là. Il était ta marque de fabrique et il restera gravé dans ma mémoire. Je suis revenu plusieurs fois à Jo’burg et à chaque fois, nous nous sommes vus, autour des nouveaux artistes que tu défendais et des anciens aussi, auxquels tu savais rester fidèle. Puis je suis parti à Dakar, où j’ai rencontré ton frère, tout aussi punk que toi, à sa manière, façon Vergon. Depuis, le petit monde de l’art du continent africain s’est un peu emballé, nous nous croisions à Marrakech, Paris ou Londres. Emilie et toi, comme des inséparables, semaient joie et bonne humeur partout où vous passiez. Et chaque fois, c’est chez vous qu’on avait un coup de cœur pour un ou une artiste qu’on découvrait grâce à vous. Je me souviens aussi de ton souci toujours désintéressé de me présenter tous ceux que je ne connaissais pas encore ou qui ne me connaissaient pas (et il y en avait beaucoup!), une sorte de don/contre-don perpétuel, qui était certainement la meilleure façon pour toi de faire advenir les choses… ou pas. Mais je souviens surtout de ta liberté contagieuse et de ton esprit d’entreprise, que j’admirais. Oui, c’est l’homme libre, plus que l’homme de l’art qui continuera de vivre dans mon souvenir, m’accompagnant parfois dans des directions à prendre ou des choix à faire.Qu’aurais-tu fait à ma place? Tu aurais ri d’abord, puis tu aurais décidé, sans trop hésiter,car la vie passe vite, trop vite.Que la terre te soit légère, cher Henri.

The lively and generous spirit which marked Henri Vergon’s character is probably what has bound him so closely to Joburg’s art community but also the wider visual arts world beyond South Africa. He was passionate about promoting art from the African continent. Vergon might have made money from selling art, like any dealer, but somehow you always felt that the financial rewards were secondary, a necessary evil.  He loved artists, art and above all connecting people to each other. If you happened to mention to him what you were working on he would undoubtedly tell you whom else you should speak to. Not in a perfunctory manner either; he would force a meeting, physically or virtually. He always followed through. His passion was to bring artists, artworks to a broader appreciation; connecting people to art. As this is what drives my own work and that of most people in the art industry – Vergon was deeply appreciated by the art community and artists in South Africa and elsewhere on the continent. 

It helped too that this passion was channeled through such a charming and unassuming demeanor. This made him totally likeable, an asset to the artists he represented.  He will be greatly missed by the South African art community, but his contribution and passion for the visual expression from our country will not be forgotten.

Il est difficile d’écrire sur une personne disparue… Quand je pense à Henri, je me remémore le premier séjour en Afrique du Sud. Sur les conseils d’Hervé Di Rosa, j’ai contacté Henri avant mon départ pour Joburg en 2016. Hervé n’était pas le seul à m’avoir chaudement recommandé ce précieux contact sur place. Je connaissais la galerie et les artistes qu’il représentait, je le connaissais seulement de réputation. La rencontre a tenu toutes ses promesses. Henri et Emilie m’ont ouvert les portes de leur maison, m’ont aidé à rencontrer une foule d’artistes. Des artistes représenté.es par la galerie et par d’autres galeries, peu en aurait fait autant. Triste que je n’aie pas pu me balader dans Joburg, le dernier jour du séjour restera gravé dans ma tête. Nous avons fait une super balade à pieds et en voiture. Henri est revenu sur l’histoire d’Afronova en me montrant son premier espace.

Nous nous sommes retrouvés plus tard à Londres, à Paris, à Vitry. Henri était une personne rayonnante, généreuse, enthousiaste, exigeante, curieuse, passionnée par son métier. Un galeriste pas comme les autres. Comme beaucoup je n’oublierai pas ses yeux pétillants et son rire. Je n’oublierai pas son engagement vers de nombreux.ses artistes comme Billie Zangewa, Lebohang Kanye, Senzeni Marasela ou Lawrence Lemaoana. Il a su,avec Emilie, cultiver un esprit de famille, un esprit collectif dont le monde de l’art manque trop souvent.Mes pensées vont vers Emilie et les artistes qui composent une belle famille.

Henri

A l’infini

D’une élégance sulfureuse

Dandy au jean blanc et au pas trépignant

Comme une gamine amoureuse

Chantonnant vers un heureux évènement

A nos pauses cigarettes à la chaîne

A nos ballons de vins renversés sans gêne

Par les convulsions de nos corps indisciplinés

Et le choeur de nos rires déjantés

Souvenirs de rendez-vous hors les murs

A New York, Londres et Paris

Accompagné de ta chérie Emilie

Bon vivant et plein d’humour

Henri au grand coeur

Merci pour ta générosité

Qui m’a touchée

Et m’a permis de collectionner

Ta parfaite éloquence

Ta passion pour tes artistes

Trahissait ton intelligence

Et ont scellé ta réussite

Ta grâce et ton humilité

Ont régulièrement payé

Des tournées de café

Aux agents de sécurité

Tu ne seras jamais un souvenir

Trop de douceur et de fous rires

M’animent quand je pense à toi

Pour croire que mourir

Mettra fin à ta voix

Henri

Mon punk chic

Répends ta folie magique

A jamais

Cher Henri
We will meet again, ce si beau morceau de Bill Evans… nous nous reverrons dans le ciel de l’Afrique du Sud que tu as tant aimée.
Nous étions naguère des explorateurs, et tu es parti en avant, loin dans la jungle urbaine de Jo’burg pour ne plus en revenir. Bravo pour l’aventure !
Tu m’avais accueilli avec ma femme et mon fils en 2003, lors d’une visite du souvenir. Avec cette générosité que je découvre ici dans toute son exubérance. Merci Henri.
We will meet again.

Terre contre Ciel

Quelle terre l’Afrique du Sud !

Découverte il y a 17 ans, je n’aurais jamais pu rêver meilleure introduction. La tienne Henri. Une étoile au dessus de la tête, déjà .Et la tienne, au volant de ta coccinelle jaune. Pieds nus. Tu disais que les rues de Joburg etaient propres … j’en étais pas franchement convaincue entre nous. Tu sillonnais Joburg et moi les yeux grands écarquillés sur le siège passager, face à un autre monde. Loin de Paris. Très loin. Si loin que je pleurais de rentrer en France, après une année en terre zoulou. Tant de trésors en Afrique du Sud, loin des expats, comme on se le disait, pour mieux profiter et apprécier.Un soir, tu m’avais laissé en tête à tête avec Wayne, guet-apens qui nous faisait bien rire plustard. Et puis le Gramadoelas. Crocodile, brochettes d’insectes… je m’en souviens comme si c’était hier. La galerie de Newton. Rencontrer tes amis, que tu as transformés pour certains en artistes. Et moi, tu m’as accueillie, sans me connaître. Tout toi. Depuis nous sommes restés grands amis, puis Emilie. A quatre mains je vous suis et était admirative de votre bienveillance qui réchauffe le cœur. Ton humilité : les autres avant toi.Les artistes-ta famille-surtout avant toi. Au jour le jour, c’était ton charme. Tu as été le premier à accompagner la liberté d’expression des artistes post Apartheid. Il y a17 ans tu me montrais la video performance que tu avais accompagné, de Steven Cohen. Travesti et traversant. En chandelier dans les Townships de Joburg. Un momentum. Ciel contre Terre, tu vas maintenant faire danser les étoiles avec ton tempérament exalté. Merci d’avoir été mon ami. Et on continue avec Émilie.

J’ai rencontré Henri à Johannesburg, en 2016. C’était à l’occasion d’un voyage de recherches en vue d’une exposition sur la scène artistique sud-africaine. D’emblée, j’ai été marqué par ses qualités humaines, son accueil chaleureux, son enthousiasme, sa générosité, et ce désir infini qui l’animait et ce plaisir qu’il avait à nous faire découvrir des œuvres d’artistes, représentés ou non d’ailleurs par la galerie qu’il a créée avec Emilie. Insatiable sur les artistes qui le passionnaient, son engagement, son soutien et sa bienveillance semblaient indéfectibles. J’ai pu entrevoir l’immense travail qu’il a accompli pour les artistes sud-africains, sa contribution fut déterminante nul doute et que sa disparition laisse un vide immense. Depuis cette rencontre, nous avions gardé contact et nous sommes revus quelques fois, sans conteste pas suffisamment car le temps de cette amitié naissante était compté. Je ne connaissais pas très bien Henri mais suffisamment pour regretter de ne plus avoir la chance de le connaître mieux. Les quelques souvenirs que nous avons partagés, me sont précieux et j’en cultiverais longtemps le souvenir. Sur le stand d’une foire ou autour d’un dîner, les discussions que nous avons eu sur l’art mais aussi sur la vie étaient intenses, enrichissantes et passionnées. Il était de ceux qui prenaient le temps, de parler, d’écouter, de rêver. Sa sensibilité au monde, son acuité, son exigence, sa curiosité et son optimiste continueront de m’inspirer. Henri était de ceux qui ont rendu par leur passage, aussi bref soit-il, le monde heureux.

Pour moi, Henri incarnait la joie de vivre, la passion de l’art et de la culture, et le couple fusionnel avec Emilie. Un homme d’une sympathie, d’une générosité, et habité par une énergie débordante de vie, comme j’en ai rarement rencontré. Je garderai gravé dans ma mémoire ces précieux et merveilleux moments passés ensemble en Afrique du Sud, tous unis autour de l’Art, mais partageant tellement plus. Je me souviendrai toujours des innombrables rencontres que nous avons faites grâce à Henri et Emilie, des discussions à propos des projets passés et futurs pour lesquels il était toujours extrêmement enthousiaste, et de tous ces fous rires que nous avons eus. Une étoile de plus dans le ciel, une étoile plus brillante que les autres.

Henri à Stéphane

« je crois que tes cheveux sont restés collés dans ton bonnet »

Henrire

Allez, on va henrire, ou sourire de cette algue qui était une bague…

Eh, finalement, y a qu’un « b » et un « l » qui s’échange, c’est une blague.

Mais ce qui compte, ce sont les sentiments, ils ne peuvent sûrement pas être en or ou en diamant.

Avec toi, ils étaient sincères.

Henri, tu es parti et la peine nous a envahi.

Ta famille et Emilie, sommes tous réunis

Plein d’amour nous entoure

Et le tien est avec nous

Ton rire et ton humour nous manquent

mais il n’a pas disparu

Bien au contraire

C’est un soutien et on en a vraiment besoin

On pleure, on rit,

On se bat

Pour qu’une partie de toi reste là

Tu verras, on y arrivera

Henri, c’est pour toujours

On se reverra un jour

22 mai 2020, Long Island.Première échappée sur la plage après des semaines d’enfermement dans une New York silencieuse et malade. Le vent souffle, les vagues roulent, le froid pique. A chaque pas dans le sable les souvenirs remontent: le Japon d’abord : Henri et Émilie rencontrés au détour d’un portfolio review et avec qui je finis entre clope et fous-rires dans la ruelle sombre derrière un petit restaurant typique de Kyoto.

Et puis notre rendez-vous annuel à New York chaque mois de mai à la African Art Fair de Pioneer Works. Je venais toujours leur rendre visite dans l’effervescence de la fair et puis on se retrouvait ailleurs, autrement, toujours en bonne compagnie, pour célébrer l’art et la vie.

Il y a eu cet après-midi dans mon jardin de Greenpoint passé à refaire le monde au rythme des verres de rosé. Henri avait raconté sa vie, sa rencontre avec l’Afrique, son engagement politique, artistique. J’avais écouté, questionné, imaginé son récit en images, en mots. Écrire une nouvelle peut-être? Ouvrir un espace pour l’Afrique à New York? Je me souviens l’envie timidement exprimée ce jour-là et souvent répétée depuis de collaborer avec Henri et Emilie, d’inventer quelques chose ensemble. Si l’orage ne nous avait pas chassés ce jour-là, on y serait encore.

Et puis il y a eu la barge, les sons de l’East River, la lumière dorée du coucher du soleil sur la skyline de New York. Les clopes enchainées, les verres même plus comptés, les rires forts, francs toujours, le partage riche et simple, cette nonchalance typique à Henri, cette impression qu’il donnait à chacun d’être là où il doit être, cette légère poussée qu’il proposait toujours vers le diffèrent, le autrement, et puis sa façon de tout balayer d’un haussement d’épaule et d’un éclat de rire en cascade avant d’allumer une autre clope.

Me reste de ces moments l’étrange impression d’avoir bien connu Henri – alors qu’en fait si peu – et la certitude qu’il va me manquer.

Bye l’ami.

« Henri, si j’avais imaginé devoir un jour écrire dans ces circonstances, je n’y crois toujours pas d’ailleurs. Nos échanges étaient rares mais réguliers depuis plus de trente ans, cependant comme toujours, on ne dit jamais assez aux gens qu’on les aime et par une pudeur déplacée, on fréquente souvent la surface. Si je te disais que tu m’as mis au monde ou plutôt dans le monde, tu aurais ri ! Tu m’as ouvert a tellement de domaines, musique, littérature, art… avec la même bonne humeur, toujours enthousiaste et un goût certain pour l’aventure. Je pense que je n’aurais pas pris la direction du monde des musée sans notre rencontre. Avec ton départ, c’est une partie de moi qui s’en va et probablement la plus belle. Non, je n’y crois toujours pas et ne le souhaite pas. Je t’embrasse

Henri, décontracté, decomplexé en jean baskets.

Energie…Enthousiasme!

Henri, gonflé de vie et d’envies..envie de vivre…envie d’aimer…envie de rencontres!

Henri, son rire!

Henri, ses mains tendues vers les autres.

Porte ouverte!

Henri, son sens de la fête!

Henri et Jobourg, mon guide-tour!

Henri, Talent d’être Henri..

Talent d’être celui qui voyait le talent, Talent d’y croire, accompagner avec patience les artistes, pousser tirer.

Talent de croire en la vie: Une vie à ne pas abandonner, constamment se redresser, rire de tout, de soi..des pieds de nez de la vie..accepter les coups et en rire, accepter le pire et continuer, Accepter le succés et rire…

Et surtout Henri et… son Emilie, Love story!

No end…On continue avec Emilie!

A l’enfant d’Afrique, à celui qui fut l’âme espiègle et ô combien vivante de l’IFAS, à Henri Vergon

Que sont mes amis devenus
Que j’avais de si près tenus
Et tant aimés
Ils ont été trop clairsemés
Je crois le vent les a ôtés
L’amour est morte
Ce sont amis que vent me porte
Et il ventait devant ma porte
Les emporta

Rutebeuf 1230-1285

Cher Henri

Tu es parti telle une météorite traversant le ciel, vers de nouveaux horizons sans nous dire au revoir . Pourtant tu étais encore présent dans ma galerie pour l’inauguration de «l’Afrique Fantôme«le vendredi 21 février 2020. Toi si joyeux , toujours hilare , en perpétuel mouvement, tu incarnais le bonheur,la joie de vivre. Ta bonne humeur et ton dynamisme nous contaminaient tous sur les stand de1-54 Londre sou New York et nous envions ton énergie.

Tout cela se terminait toujours au bar du coin un verre à la main pour une partie de la nuit. Mais tu as surtout développé un programme passionnant, sans cesse renouvelé, original qui fidélisait de nombreux collectionneurs de tous pays. Ces derniers t’adoraient, te respectaient et te suivaient . Et donc tu avais tout compris. Il fallait être léger, aérien et surfer sur la vie . Henri, tu resteras un exemple pour nous tous d’être joyeux dans notre métier, D’être à l’écoute de l’autre, tout en réussissant brillamment ta carrière de galeriste.

From Abdullah to Zille, book, 2008

Henri Vergon, Newtown , Johannesburg, October 2006

When it opened in September 2005, the chances of survival for the AFRONOVA GALLERY opposite the Market Theatre seemed slim. Firstly, it bordered on blasphemy to occupy the premises that once belonged to the Yard of Ale, which up to the mid-nineties was the multi-coloured drinking hole for Joburg’s cultual in-crowd. One could almost feel a resentful, nostalgic mob imposing an unofficial boycott on the gallery.

Secondly, the assumption that regular, commercially viable exhibitions of contemporary pan-african art would find a ready market sounded like a utopian kink. After all, Newtown doesn’t exactly attract the well-heeled clientele that willingly pays R20 000 for a metallic piece by a Cameroonian artist.

And thirdly, the building was supposed to be demolished six months after the opening.

Funny when that it took an irrevent foreigner – Henri Vergon, Frenchman, daredevil and fast-talking upstart – to give credence to that situationist Einstürzende Neubauten adage ‘was nicht ist, ist möglich’ (‘what is not, is possible’). A year after Wild West : everything can be done, and everything has to be done. So you’re hungry. You want to be out everywhere all the time’

It was his epiphany ‘ I was born again here,’ he says without a trace of irony. ‘ I bacame a new man. Everybody I met was completely open. They had all been fragmented by recent history. They were questioning themselves : where did they come from, and what did their fathers do ? They were trying to make sense and give themselves a place in the future, building a new world. I threw away all my old protection and jumped straight into that same pool. Unlike most expats, I decided to stay. I had found a new family, a family of artists.’

When he felt that IFAS was losing its edge and turning into yet another bureaucratic institution with whingeing overpaid people, he resigned in order to live out his next dream : opening a gallery for contemporary african art with his business partner, artist Billie Zangewa. The idea was to make AFRONOVA ‘ not just a gallery, but also an agency and art factory with residences and collaborations’.

He invested his R30 000 savings, cleaned the place, got rid of cockroaches, rats and grease, and opened the space for exhibitions. The kick-off was a joint show by local artist Samson Mnisi and Ethiopian Gera Mawi Mazgabu. ‘ Our mission was to circulate the Art and the artists of the Continent within the continent,’ he says.

By now he has been talking incessantly for over an hour, exhuming a mix of raw innocence and shrewd business sense ; charmer and shemer, catalyst and salesman, existentialist and opportunist. My head spins, trying to make sense of this man and his contradictions.

I believe him when he says he lives a ‘monk’s life’ and doesn’t need a fancy car or an iPod. I also believe him when he says that although he feels that the energy in Joburg has come down and quite a few artists have became self-centred and opportunistic, he’s still feeding off that old high, which he wants to keep alive. ‘This gallery is buzzing all the time ! We have wine, drinks, talk for hours. Sometimes we leave at three in the morning. That’s what I love.’

But do I believe him when he says ‘My purpose is still not to make money ?’ Why do it then ? He laughs. ‘I get a life, a future for me and this family of people I work with. It feeds my soul. I also do it because it allows me to learn, every day. That’s the main reason. To keep my brain and heart open. To Discover new things. Thta’s the purpose of Life : to continue to grow. When you stop you become bored and bourgeois.’

Am i Being too suspicious when I raise an eyebrow ? Too much of the sceptical journalist who has heard too many fast talking people to believe in integrity ? He mentions the highly successfull French art dealer André Magnin as his hero, the man who curated the landmark Third World exhibition Les Magiciens de la Terre (‘Magicians of the Earth’) in Beaubourg in the heart of Paris. ‘He used to walk around with a suitcase full of money and tell artists : I buy all of this, here’s the money’

That’s where Henri ultimately wants to be : unconventional, flamboyant and successful, somewhere between Magnin and Warhol. ‘I want to have a rôle in the history of art in this country and on this continent. I want to wake people up and give a chance for voices to come out. In twenty years I want a very solid gallery which makes the artists rich.’

CV

1968 Born in Brussels, Belgium

1973 Moves to Paris

1986 Studies at EDHEC business school

1989 Works in Hartford, Connecticut, USA

1991 Moves back to Paris, works for a cultural agency

1993 Works as apprentice with tribal art dealer

1995 Moves to Joburg to work for French Institute of South Africa

2005 Opens AFRONOVA GALLERY in Newtown

HEROES/ INFLUENCES

Daniel Kahnweiler and André Magnin (art dealers), Bob Marley, The Clash, mother and grandfather (taught him never to succumb to greed), Warren Siebrits (gallerist), Bruce Lee, Leopold Senghor (former president of Senegal, poet and cultural theorist)

Henri was a forcefield for international artistic exchange and a positive spark of energy – always with a daring, naughty smile and imaginative ideas to take the conversation forward. He was what I would call a jazzy conversationalist. I remember when he first moved to Joburg in the early 90s and was working with Institut FrançaisAfrique du Sud, an engine for arts in the city at the time. What a flare of pure vitality he brought to the Newtown scene — where he later founded Afronova Gallery (in the premises that used to house that legendary watering hole The Yard of Ale). He was ahead of the game in opening up catalytic conversations, connections and collaborations in contemporary art within the

continent. As he put it: ‘Inspired by publications like Revue Noire, Nka, or even Actuel, and challenged by figures like Simon Njami, Afronova was conceived as a catalyst for urban culture and cutting-edge artistic practice in touch with a cosmopolitan and conscious community in Africa and abroad. We are still faithful to our original purpose! He was a passionate crusader for the African avant garde and his passion was tangible. I hadnt seen Henri for some time, but was thrilled to reconnect with him at the Cape Town Art Fair in 2018.

Janvier 2020, dans quelques semaines mon fils célèbrera ses 20 ans. Mon cadeau est une évidence : une oeuvre, l’Afrique du Sud, Afronova. Après quelques heures de présentation passionnée de ses artistes, ses compagnons de vie, Henri m’aide à poser mon choix sur l’oeuvre de Lawrence Lemaoana : «blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven».

Merci Henri, repose en paix.

Je suis profondément émue par la disparition d’Henri. Sa bonne humeur contagieuse, ses rires et tous ces moments passés ensemble resteront gravés à jamais dans mon coeur.

I met Henri about 20 years ago when he joined the videostore in Parktown North where I worked, but I only really got to know him once we opened The Majestic in Greenside. Henri was always happy and polite and full of joy and funny. He used to enjoy Action movies and Block Busterswhich is so not my taste, we used to always joke when I would recommend movies for him and if they were Art movies or serious movies, I’d tell him to save these for when Emilie was also watching, as I could identify totally with her taste. I always respected Henri and was moved by his dedication and strong support for The Majestic and this I willalways remember with fondness.We always have Tea time sessions on the Stoep outside The Majestic and when Henri would pop in he would always greet us with a smile and a nod and say Good Morning Gentlemen. That is the Henri I am going to miss, that naughty smile and the lovely sense of humor I had the privilege to share. Rest in Peace Dear Henri you will be sorely missed in Greenside for a very long time to come.

Henri and I first met in Johannesburg in December 1997. I was coming to South Africa for the first time and Henri was sharing a large house with a former friend of mine. We randomly stumbled upon each other in the house. I have vague memories of our firstconversation because, of course, when you meet someone for the first time, casually at breakfast, you don’t know this person will have an impact on your journey. Unbeknownst to me then, Henri would be one such person. He asked me about the reason of my trip to South Africa. We talked about my research on Gerard Sekoto. He gave me some leads to follow in Johannesburg. He also mentioned that he worked at the Institut français d’Afrique du Sud (Ifas) and that I should come and visit. One thing I perfectly remember is the tips he gave me to safely explore Johannesburg. Especially as a new visitor who didn’t have a car. His advice that I should not stay out after five o’clock amused me at first. But then I understood why he said that. Henri had shown greatt houghtfulness when we didn’t even know each other. That is something that marked me.In town, I saw more of him. Ifas was always my first stop because from there the Newtown venues of the 2nd Johannesburg Biennale were a short walking distance. I remember once visiting him at the institute and being there when he was interviewed on the phone by the press about the early closure of the biennale. Incidentally, while recently researching my archive for an essay on Tracey Rose,I found the article in which he is quoted. His voice was already one that mattered at this pivotal moment in South African art. The fact that I also first met the artists Billie Zangewa and Tracey Rose, as well as curator Jean-Hubert Martin at the house where Henri lived could seem anecdotal if it wasn’t that these encounters have marked my trajectory.

I probably stayed less than a week in Joburg before flying off to Cape Town but that contact with Henri was to last. It wasn’t like we spoke all the time. In the late 1990s, means of communication were not what they are today. But somehow there was always a project that made our paths cross. Around 1998-99, I was an intern at the Musée des Arts d’Afrique etd’Océanie where Jean-Hubert Martin was working on the early stages ofUbuntu, an exhibition on South African art. Henri was one of the art specialists who helped on this project. He was always resourceful, always open to make the relevant introductions. One of the conversations that also kept us connected was the case of the repatriation of over 2,000 works by Gerard Sekoto that had been blocked in France for legal and tax issuessince the artist’s passing in Nogent-sur-Marne in 1993. I can’t say to which extent Henri was involved in it, but I rememberhim telling me about the joint French and South African efforts deployed to ensure that Sekoto’s work would return home to be preserved and shown to theSouth African public. Which it did in the late 1990s. Years later, it is the same concern for history and heritage that led Henri to bring back to South Africa over 200 of Sekoto’sdrawings and other memorabilia, so they would not be scattered across private collections. This work was shown at Afronova in 2008. When Henri established Afronova, this made so much sense. Henri knew the art scene. He’d been here for so long. He’d seen the exciting changes that had happened from the 1990s to the 2000s. He knew there was something fresh he couldbring. The gallery’s Pan-African vision brought something unique and unprecedented to a scene primarily focused on South African art. As I ventured into curating, Henri, and soon, his collaborator and soulmate Emilie Démon were among the first with whom I shared my exhibition ideas. This led to collaborations on exhibitions featuring Billie Zangewa at Galerie Imane Farès (2011), Musa Nxumalo at Photoquai Biennial (2011), Nontsikelelo Veleko as part of a Hayward touring exhibition (2011-13), a video art programme featuring Lebohang Kganye in Tokyo (2016) and upcoming exhibitions including Kganye and Alice Mann. The friendship that developed between us was something uncomplicated, something easy. It was a “see you when I see you” kind of thing. Because we knew there would always be an exhibition, an art fair, or biennial that would bring us together. I cherished those moments. I took them for granted. Last time I saw him was during 1-54 Marrakech. Little did I know that we would soon be robbed of his laughter and kindness, of his friendly personality, and of the generosity that led him to connect many of us over the years. Henri will be truly missed but not forgotten. I am grateful to have known him and, through him, Emilie to whom I wish to express my deepest condolences, as well as his brother Thierry, his family, and all his friends from the art community and beyond.

Je n’ai que de bons souvenirs avec Henri. J’ai eu le plaisir de le rencontrer avec toi, Emilie, en 2017 au Grand Palais lorsque vous présentiez les œuvres de Billie Zangewa. Mon père et moi vous avions tout de suite apprécié Henri, comme toi, il était joyeux, sympathique et passionnant! J’ai une grande admiration pour vous, et votre carrière. Henri et toi m’avez toujours accueilli sur vos stands avec une grande gentillesse. La dernière fois c’était à Marrakech, je me rappelle d’Henri souriant et en train de rire, comme toujours.

Henri, Je ne me rappelle plus, ni ou ni quand, ni encore comment je t’ai rencontré Mais je me souviens très clairement que tu habitais dans un rire.

Un grand rire, un open-space où l’on pouvait s’installer à plusieurs

Un rire ouvert, 24H sur 24H

Un rire en partage, riche du gout des autres

Un rire rond, peu importe la géographie

Que tu trainais dans les coins carrés de la terre,

Le rechargeant autour d’un verre, une assiette ou une causerie…

Ce rire intelligent, parfois taquin mais toujours lucide sur l’autre, devenait sérieux quand le moment l’exigeait,Le temps a cru qu’il pouvait le suspendre…

Mais L’aube en avalant le crépuscule nous a offert tes sourires en héritage

Toi, de circonstances en circonvolution,

Tu tapisses les murs du ciel d’œuvres que tu as (Déjà) vendues à ce cercle d’esprits éclairés

Et, ton rire,

Heureux de la bonne affaire,

Continue son voyage.

Tu as encore pris de l’avance…

In Memory of Henri

The sudden and untimely loss of my friend Henri Vergon has deeply saddened me. We met in 1995 soon after he arrived in SA to start his job as the young Cultural Officer of the newly established French Institute. The BAT Centre had just opened in Durban and as head of Visual Arts our lives soonintersected and for a number of years we worked on joint projects that forever enriched my life, on reflection largely due to Henri’s insatiable ‘joie de vivre, boundless enthusiasm, energy, passion and generosity. Dirozulu, the two year collaboration with French artist Hervé Dirosa was the first of many, and cemented our friendship. We always had so much fun!

We branched off independently at about the same time. Henri to set up Afronova Gallery and I went my way with Zenzulu. Sadly, our paths crossed less often yet, it always seemed like no time had passed at all when we did see one another.

Henri was unique and his enormous contribution to post apartheid Contemporary African Art in South Africa and beyond will not be forgotten. I am comforted by the numerous special memories and the tight hugs, laughter and fun we shared for the last time together at then Artists Party in Cape Town earlier this year.

RIP Henri, the world is very much poorer place without you in it. You will be missed.

« I put a spell on you » de Lawrence Lemaoana est la piece la plus récente que j’ai achetée à Henri et Émilie  de la galerie AFRONOVA . Leur talent, leur humanité, leur énergie m’avaient vite conquis et, allant à la foire du Cap ou à 1.54 à Londres, ils étaient le premier « booth » que je cherchais. Well, you have put a spell on me in the great sense of being taken by your indissociable charm. But who put a spell on Henri and took him from the ones he loved and loved him ? He is such a loss. Emilie you will continue, you will be both you and him, with all those great artists around you  

I adored Henri. Not only was he an art visionary but also a lovely human being of the most generous spirit!  I regret his untimely and also the fact that he and I had so little time together

I can hardly believe that I did not meet Henri Vergon until 2015, when he brought me a photo by Lebohang Kganye to frame URGENTLY for the first 1-54 fair in New York, as it feels to me thatI have known him forever. As soon as I saw him, I recognized a profound connection. His attitude in making the rather unreasonable request was the perfect combination of humility and passion; I was disarmed and was immediately committed to supporting him in anything he attempted. His deeply romantic nature, whose proof I came to learn about in more detail over the too few years I gotto know him,was beautifully combined with humor and love of life. Not only I, but all my staff was instantly charmed and delighted to fulfill no matter what unreasonable request. I wanted to connect him immediately with all the most important people in my life. As luck or fate would have it, I was hosting a small exhibition of the J-M Basquiat collection of my friend Alexis’, and I invited him and Emilie to come. I will never forget the joy that he showed onentering that small storefront and how he embraced the spirit of that gathering and the entire complicated history and background of that group of people and that occasion. I watched his agile, though increasingly inebriated, mind stitch connections between what he felt andobserved and what he cared about most passionately–South Africa-and how he could transport that work and those feelings there. Henri–I will never forget your love and generosity and I will remember you by always working as hard as I can to be the person you thought I was.

Ah Henri!

J’ai rarement eu l’impression de rencontrer quelqu’un pour la première fois à l’age adulte et d’avoir ce sentiment qu’on se connait depuis l’enfance.Qu’est-ce qu’on s’est marrés!

Henri! On a fait ta connaissance et celle d’Emilie gràce à notre ami commun Thomas qui nous a encouragés à visiter l’Art Fair 1:54 à Londres il y a quelques années. Merci mon Toc! Mes premiers souvenirs de toi Henri sont attachés à ton rire, hyper communicatif! Ton smile permanent, mon pote, était un bonheur à voir et faisait un bien fou!Qu’est-ce qu’on s’est marrés! Et aussi ta petite valise! Ta petite valise à roulettes que tu trainais derrière toi! Mais qu’est-ce qu’elle contenait? Des liasses de dollars? Des habits de rechange? Ta brosse à dents? On ne l’aura jamais su! Des bouteilles de vins blancs peut-être? Qu’est-ce qu’on s’est marrés! En parlant de bouteilles de vin, on en a sifflés quelques-unes avec toi Henri. En bonne compagnie d’Emilie, Thomas et Patricia! Et tu étais bien souvent le premier à lancer les hostilités! Allez c’est la mienne! Dudu: Je vais chercher une bouteille de rouge Henri: Non! du blanc, pas de rouge sur mon stand! On va pas prendre le risque de saloper le travail de nos artistes quand-même! Au fait Henri, j’ai rarement vu quelqu’un d’aussi généreux que toi! “Comment ça tu as déjà payé! Non cette fois c’est à mon tour!”“On s’en reprend une petite dernière?” que tu disais… Et cela finissait cinq heures plus tard au Pub ou au bar de nuit de l’hotel! On ne se connaissait pas depuis très longtemps c’est vrai mais la liste des moments et des anecdotes que nous avons partagés me semble infinie! Voici donc dans le désordre: la choucroute à l’anglaise, les pauses clop dans la cour du Sommerset House, les pints à la Nell Gwynne Taverns et les digestifs au bar de l’hotel, ta ressemblance avec Bruce Willis, les pets artistiques de Gaspard à 1:54, un dimanche après-midi enivré au French House à Soho, le diner au resto chinois, l’épaule d’agneau du Anchor and Hope et aussi l’histoire de la minerve sur la plage naturiste! Qu’est-ce qu’on s’est marrés et tu vas nous manquer!

Signé: Monsieur Dudu, comme tu m’appelais parfois, Patricia, Gaspard et Aglaé

So very sad. He was a gentleman who loved art and Africa and was always so generous in helping curators and artists alike. He always greeted me with a big smile and a hug. Henri, my brother, you will be missed. Emile, my heart weeps for you. Condolences to those who knew him

Those sparkely mischievous eyes.

These rosey cheeks.

That kind hearted openess.

That will to explore

These things will never leave me,

Thank you Henri.

I knew Henri for more than twenty years and there is an ocean of memories that I swim in every time I think of him. And every single one, more colorful than the next. Always  times of fun and inspiration, kind generosity and youthful spirit of adventure that only Henri possessed. The very first night I met Henri we became instant friends. Henri inspired, helped and believed in so many people and there was never a dull moment that was always filled with your mischievous laughter that I will alway miss. Your gentle soul and generous spirit will always be missed my friend. 

Quel souvenir choisir, lequel serait le plus représentatif des milles facettes d’une si belle et généreuse personnalité ? Peut être celui imprévu, d’une rencontre nocturne et parisienne avec Émilie. Tout y est : le son de la voix d’Henri que je reconnais au loin, celui du rire d’Emilie, la stupéfaction de les croiser à Paris, au croisement de deux petites rues familières et dans la joie des retrouvailles, des verres partagés sur une petite table, derrière un bistrot,seuls. Paris la nuit. Car on ne pouvaitpas croiser simplement Henri, le croiser c’était le rencontrer, échanger et partager. Ce souvenir est d’autant plus présent que sans le savoir ce soir la, Henri m’a profondément marqué. Il était de ces personnes qui sentent l’inquiétude, le doute, l’égarement et surtout le comprenne. Notre conversation de ce soir fut une bouffée d’optimisme qui m’a longtemps accompagné. Henri m’a énormément appris, et je crois que toute personne ayant croisé un jour son chemin se sont enrichis de découvertes artistiques et sans doute d’humanité, de sentiments vrais et sincères. En quelques phrases, et peu de mots, il orientait les conversations pour aller au fond des choses, sans faux semblants. Henri et Emilie nous ont accompagnés tout au long de collaborations, nous ont partagés leurs découvertes et nous permettaient de vivre un peu de leur passion et de l’incroyable diversité artistique sud-Africaine. Et au bien au delà, sur cette petite table parisienne, au Sunny’s de Red Hook, au pub dont, même après tant d’années jene connais pas le nom mais où nous nous retrouvions année après année, Henri écoutait, animait d’un rire précieux des conversations légères et importantes, joyeuses, mais nécessaires. Il savait trouver l’équilibre,et le partager. Henri… merci, merci

Je n’ai que des beaux souvenirs avec Henri et Émilie.Henri était un grand enthousiaste et sa joie de vivre était contagieuse.Les photographes du projet Of Soul and Joy et moi-même nous souviendrons toujours d’Henri comme un grand défenseur de l’art et des artistes.Il mettait un point d’honneur à aider la jeune génération d’artistes en Afrique du Sud, son pays d’adoption, pour lesquels ils se sont, avec Émilie, engagés personnellement et professionnellement. Je n’oublierai jamais son énergie, son positivisme et surtout son hospitalité lorsque chez eux à Joburg nous nous retrouvions pour discuter d’art avec un grand nombre d’acteurs culturels, des moments si agréables et peu conventionnels qui restent gravés dans ma mémoire pour toujours .

J’ai des souvenirs heureux avec Henri, ce mec était vraiment top, je suis sur le cul depuis que j’ai appris son départ…

Ca m’a bien fait réfléchir ! J’étais vraiment sous le choc et je n’ai pas osé échanger avec toi, en tout cas saches que je l’aimais énormément et qu’il a beaucoup compté pour moi, on s’est lancé un peu au même moment à l’époque dans l’entreprenariat et on a eu beaucoup de discussions et de belles soirées ensemble… je lui avais désigné son logo afronova, ça a commencé comme ça,et on était assez proches à Joburg, puis on s’est perdus de vue quand je suis parti au Cap, puis en France… je suis tellement triste de n’avoir pas pu avoir discuté avec lui davantage récemment, mais parfois on se perd de vue et voilà… Cette photo sur ton mur, tu étais là à cette soirée, il jouait avec son serpent, il me l’a mis autour du cou, c’était lors de mon passage en Afrique du Sud en 2012, forcément j’étais allé le voir…

Bref, on s’est perdu de vue, mais voilà Riton était une vraie inspiration pour moi, pour plein de gens, il a éclairé tant de gens et de vies, ça ne m’étonne pas que tant de gens aient pu dire ce qu’ils ont dit, il le mérite amplement…

Un grand homme. Au sourire et à l’enthousiasme débordants, qui a défendu avec passion l’art africain au delà des sentiers établis.

I first met Henri in 2016 and have only ever seen him when he has come to visit New York for 1-54 art fair. So we were hardly old or close friends. Yet, his arrival was always preceded with contact and our inevitable hello at 1-54 was always so warm and spirited that a casual observer would have thought us lifelong friends. And that hello was always followed by an invitation to meet for drinks or dinner. I’m an artist, not a collector, so none of this had to do with making sales or nurturing a possibly profitable relationship. Henri simply loved being around artists. And he would share surprising details about his corner of the art world in a way that felt open and generous and that was always accompanied by fits of laughter and another glass of wine.

It’s a ridiculous thought, but it keeps occurring to me that perhaps Henri used up his allotted portion of life too quickly. He certainly drank deeply from that cup and tended to spill carelessly from it onto those around him. I will miss Henri and am sad that our friendship won’t deepen into the rich and nourishing thing it seemed destined to

ヘンリーへ

ヘンリーのまわりにある、ポジティブなくうきがすきでした。

アートにたいするLOVE、たのしいじんせいへのLOVE、エミリーへのLOVEがあふれでていました。

ヘンリーのこどものようにむじゃきで、やさしいえがおは、みんなをハッピーなきもちにしてくれました。

ヘンリーのことをおもいだすだけで、こころがあたたかくなります。

いつかまたエミリーのよこにいるヘンリーにあうのをたのしみにしていました。

ヘンリーがてんごくヘいってしまって、ほんとうにさみしいです。

でも、かなしみのきもちとともに、ヘンリーがあたたかいきもちにもしてくれます。

あなたにであえて、ほんとうによかったです。

これからもあなたをわすれません。

エミリーがにほんにきたら、わたしたちがぜんりょくでケアするからね！

ゆっくりやすんでくださいね。ありがとう。

なおこ

Sa Beetle jaune défoncée et son sourire tonitruant, sa voix chantante et ses grands bras qu’il balade sans savoir où les ranger, ses yeux qui se plissent et son mouvement de tête vers l’arrière pour rire à gorge vraiment déployée, sa conduite cheveux aux vents en plein cœur d’une ville qui est devenue la sienne, Johannesburg, dont il s’amuse des frivolités et des excentricités, qu’il sait reconnaître comme ceux d’une vieille amie. Ouvrir Afronova en 2005 dans le quartier de Newtown était un sacré truc. Une immense vitrine, une programmation ambitieuse, joyeuse et généreuse ; une programmation décalée déjà pour cette ville à la scène artistique alors assez conservatrice.

Henri avait un nez et un œil pour toutes les choses de la vie : les triviales, le bon vin et les meilleurs pubs d’un quartier, qu’il était capable de déceler en quelques instants dans n’importe quelle ville du monde, mais aussi les plus sérieuses, le choix d’un territoire et d’une histoire où s’enraciner, la rencontre d’artistes à accompagner dans leur carrière.

Henri a travaillé avec certains des artistes Sud-Africains les plus talentueux de leur génération. Senzeni Marasela, Billie Zangewa, Phumzile Khanyile, Wayne Barker, Karl Gietl, Lawrence Lemaoana, Lebohang Kganye, Musa Nxumalo : j’ai d’abord rencontré l’œuvres de ces fabuleux artistes grâce à ses yeux, et à ceux d’Emilie Demon, son binôme en toutes choses. La curiosité folle de Henri l’a mené à construire avec chacun de ces artistes une relation personnelle et à défendre leur travail en Afrique du Sud et sur la scène internationale, notamment à 1-54, avec ce petit quelque chose en fait assez rare dans le monde des galeristes : la passion sincère.

Henri était un passeur, de ceux qui rendent le monde plus fluide en ne cessant de présenter les uns aux autres, ce qu’il s’est attelé à faire tout au long de nos 10 ans d’amitié, comme avec tant d’autres autour de lui.

Depuis notre première rencontre dans sa Beetle jaune sans plancher à Newtown, il y a eu la superbe galerie de Braamfontein avec sa grande bibliothèque et les studios d’artistes qu’il adorait faire visiter tout autour, les déjeuners et dîners dans la jolie maison à la piscine éternellement vide de Parkhust, les expositions et foires à Paris, Londres, New York et Marrakech, et même quelques passages à Rugles, minuscule village normand de nos familles respectives.

Henri fait partie de ces personnes qui doivent être remerciées. Sans raison précise vraiment, une sorte de remerciement global et éternel, pour ces nouveaux horizons qu’il a permis

I first met Henri in the days of the wild Troyeville parties, whilst he was still working at IFAS. Even then he had a great passion for art which manifested in his starting Afronova gallery, across from the Market Theatre. It was a great space and he couldn’t have chosen a better location, attracting an eclectic audience which made openings different and a lot more fun. And to complete things he usually hosted a big dinner at the gallery at the end of an exhibition’s run. He certainly did things with a lot of flair.One of my best stories about Henri was when he was falling in love with Emilie-I liked it because it was such a romantic gesture… it was about the time when he started Afronova. Emilie was living in Japan and Henri would spend a fortune on airfares going to visit her, but it was his surprise visit one Xmas Eve that I liked. He had flown to Japan without telling Emilie and had dressed up as Father Christmas for the occasion. When Emily arrived as a guest of his brother who was living in Tokyo at the time, she had no idea that this man with the whitebeard was Henri. I would have loved to have seen the expression on her face when she realized it was him! The combination of Henri and Emilie was beautiful as it brought out such an imaginative quirkiness and spontaneity in them both. Henri you’ll be sorely missed

Henri.  C’est ta joie et ta bonne humeur qui vont nous manquer. Tu prenais les choses serieuses avec legerete, et les choses legeres avec grand serieux. On deprimait pas avec toi, d’ailleurs on deprime pas avec les Africains.

Je te souris. Et Rest in Power.

Connaissez vous le quartier de Golden Gai? C’est un quartier sans boulevard ni voiture où se tiennent, dans de minuscules ruelles, des dizaines de mini bars de 5 ou 6 chaises. Emilie m’a fait découvrir ce quartier caché au milieu des avenues agitées de Shinjuku. C’est dans cet endroit cher à mon cœur, que j’ai rencontré Henri, dans un de ces minuscules bars dont j’ai oublié le nom, il y a 14 ans. J’avais vaguement entendu dire qu’il tenait une galerie alors je lui ai demandé de m’en parler. Il est alors entre dans une histoire incroyable… que j’ai cru. Il m’a dit quelque chose comme ça : « Je tiens une galerie qui est spécialisée dans l’art érotique. Les œuvres sont tellement osées que parfois je suis obligé de virer des hommes qui commencent à se palucher. » Avec la grande naïveté de ma vingtaine d’alors, je suis restée bouche bée. C’est bien plus tard que j’ai découvert les artistes représentés par la galerie et que j’ai compris qu’il m’avait bien eu. Il avait aussi ajouté ce jour là, voyant mon carnet Molesquine posé sur le bar, panoplie essentielle de tout artiste voyageur qui se respecte « On ne pense jamais aux pauvres bébés molesquine qu’il faut sacrifier pour tous ces carnets… » Quand j’y repense aujourd’hui je revois l’étincelle de joie et de malice dans ces yeux et toute cette taquinerie qui s’y cachait. Notre dernière rencontre était bien loin de là, à Paris en 2013, à la Maison Rouge lors de l’exposition My Joburg et nous avons appelé ensemble notre chère Emilie qui était restée en Afrique du sud. Là encore j’ai retrouvé cette petite flamme de l’enfant coquin qui vibrait sur son visage.

Henri arrived in Johannesburg in 1995, and dedicated 25 years of his life to the South African art scene, notably at the French Institute of South Africa where he held various positions during nine years. Our friends and partners remember his dedicated work on thought-provoking projects such as Steven Cohen’s Chandelier, and on major exhibitions such as the Chagall exhibition in 2000, and the Miro exhibition in 2002, both held at the Standard Bank Gallery.

In 2005, Henri founded Afronova, a gallery dedicated to African contemporary arts. First located in Newtown, right across the Market Theatre, the gallery moved to Braamfontein, before finally becoming a more private showroom in Parkhurst. With his partner Emilie Demon, Henri turned Afronova into a major player of the African arts scene, showcasing works of artists such as Malick Sidibé, Lawrence Lemaoana and Alice Mann in prestigious international fairs across the globe.

We welcome Henri’s unflagging commitment for artists from South Africa and the whole African continent.

Our thoughts are with his family and friends in this difficult time.

I first met Henri in 2017 at 1-54 in London. It was my second visit to the fair and passing by Afronova’s booth, I was dazzled by Lawrence Lemaoana’s eye-catching work. We engaged in a brief but very pleasant conversation about the artwork and other topics. I was amazed to see how engaging, jovial, and relaxed he was, compared to other colleagues of the art field [not all obviously]. Back then, 14N 61W’s application to any of 1-54 fairs was rejected and it was rather frustrating not to be selected. I remember telling Henri about it and he confidently suggested that I kept applying… In 2018, the same scenario. No 1-54 for us again, but I visited the fair. Once again, meeting with Henri and this time Emilie that I haven’t met previously, was one of the highlights of my visit to 1-54. By then, we have realized that we had similar trajectories, though different paths. Him moving to South Africa and opening a gallery; and me landing in Berlin, Germany doing the same, creating mutual respect and appreciation between us. Again, Henri insisted that I applied to the fair the next year. His advice back then was precious and helped our selection for 1-54 NY last year. Since, he had continuously supported our presence at 1-54, introducing me to curators, artists, and others, often sending them our way with a recommendation. I cannot think of him without being overwhelmed by how a great human being he was. So, thanks to Henri, 14N 61W has joined the 1-54 family and tribes. Rest in peace. Rest in power Henri! –

Impossible not to mention our last “after-work apero” in London last year. Bringing rum from Martinique as part of another taste of the island, to share on our booth, attracted sometimes more attention to the beverage than the artworks… Henri, Emilie, and some other usual suspects used to share a drink, a friendly talk before heading out of the fair. These moments, quality times with Henri are memorable. That particular evening, Henri and some of us were helping Kalashnikovv gallery to dismantle a recalcitrant sculpture on their booth. All over a sudden, Henri started to let loose on the background music. It was a hilarious sight to see and it embodied perfectly what impression Henri made on me and many people. Besides the visionary professional he was, Henri was always, always “de bonne humeur”. His luminous friendliness, his kindness was contagious. That’s how I’ll remember Henri. 

Je suis sous le choc de l’annonce de ton trépas

Tu avais la classe de ceux qui ne subissent pas

Tu inventais la vie avec appétence

Dans tonaventure d’un demi-siècle d’existence

C’est à Johannesburg, que tout a commencé

En stage à l’ambassade de France, tu t’es lancé.

Dans un downtown en ruine est né « Afronova »

Galerie d’art contemporain, made in Africa

Ton charisme aidé de ton sourire permanent

Le talent de tes artistes plus ton entregent

T’ont permis d’exposer des oeuvres dans les salons

Paris, New York, Madrid, Bâle, Tokyo ou London

Avec Emilie ta compagne et associée

Je vous jalouse d’avoir autant voyagé

Grâce à vous de nombreux talents sud-africains

Sont connus dans des villes et des pays lointains

La vie dans cette métropole est dangereuse

Tu fus violenté par une bande batailleuse

Dans cette zone de non droit pour conjurer ta peur

Tu les a bravé pour leur montrer ton honneur

J’ai été hébété, terriblement choqué

Quand j’ai appris la nouvelle inusitée

Dorénavant, je n’attendrai plus leur départ pour aimer plus, ceux qui font briller mon regard

You and Henri always emanate so much love and happiness when I think of you. I loved being around you together and individually.

I remember nearly 20 years ago going with a letter to the Head of the French Institute opposite the Market Theater when I was 17 years old to meet Henri for him to sign. He always treated me the same way, lovingly, respectfully, jovially as a trusted friend.

I wish you courage during this sorrowful time and think of you and Henri with my heart full of love. 

Love,

When Henri opened opposite the Market Theatre in Newtown Johannesburg, he invited me to exhibit my art in his new gallery.  It was a solo exhibition with a large number of huge paintings, framed in wood and glass which made them extremely heavy.  He arrived in a smallish bakkie to fetch the art and stood to support it upright in the back, while a friend drove.  I wasn’t sure they would arrive in town intact, but they made it and it was the best exhibition.  That was November 2005.  We became firm friends and often laughed about it……..laughing was what Henri did often, and best.

Fast forward lots of years and lots of Henri and Henri and Emilie.

The two of them eventually travelled far and wide to  art fairs, with their stable of artists so they were not in town often.  We always over spending New Years Eve with the two of them when we could.

I will miss Henri immensley.  I send all my love and kisses to Emilie, and sincere condolences to Henri’s family and friends.

To remember Henri is to remember his smile. For anyone in the world of African contemporary art even if you did not know his name, you could identify him as that ever-sunny, ever-enthusiastic, ever-optimistic and always on the move ‘Frenchman’. As a gallery outside South Africa, we still frequently encountered Henri on the international circuit, whether it was Cape Town, Joburg, Paris, London or New York. To remember Henri is also to remember his pioneering spirit and unequivocal commitment to art and artists, not because they were a product or a vehicle for making money but because they were making something important and because they are people he cared for. I guess this is why, ahead of his time, Henri made Afronova an online space to create the flexibility and budget for serious international engagement, which art fairs outside of SouthAfrica began to deliver. Last time I spoke with Henri he was telling me about the new art space he was opening up in Johannesburg. He was so happy to have a space he could run as he wanted, create events, imagine things without constraints. I remember saying “surely, you can still get people to come and clean up” and he responded ‘no, no, no, I really love cleaning, cooking everything!

I am extremely Heartbroken, Shocked and I am struggling to process this information. To the Laughter, Debates, Knowledge, Vision, to the real critical conversations, the Wine and the tears that followed, I really could go on however above all to the Friendship, Thank you Henri.

To Emilie I have no words, I’m so sorry.

To the Afronova Family i am sending strength, love and light

Our dinners will never be the same again

Love

You were an amazing visionary with a gentleand generous spirit. I will miss our times together, with you walking barefoot at any chance you got, your contagious laughter, your always warm embrace, book exchanges, pizza & wine dates, traveling together, your incredible stories & your pool of knowledge and references. Our journey together has inspired me in so many ways. May you continue to walk alongside us and deposit your spirit of love and generosity in us

Henri you have arrived in Europe and so your journey has taken fulll circle. In that way, you are like one of those tragic art things that you took with you on your journeys from Africa to Europe, and back. In this way I want to believe that you left something behind, here, whatever exists beyond sentimental memories. So I guess it is what is inside that circe that matters, that counts. The chaos, and the hope, right now, makes us want to see some resolution, but your premature death, among so many others, for so many important and unimportant reasons,  reminds us that there may never be an end to our battles, and that is what is frightening and distressing. But I think you knew that, because there was something behind that smile that betrayed a sad and gentle sense of understanding. And now I, along with so many others, may never know what it was that you knew.

Henri Vergon is no longer with us. The shock of this loss is hard to bear. He was a colleague of the highest integrity and a wonderfully eccentric man with a great love of life and sense of humour. Having known him for more than 20 years he was always willing to share his extensive knowledge and insight. He had a great eye and visual sense and created an international platform for young artists from various parts of Africa. This vivacious and charming human being will be sorely missed by all those who knew him. Condolences to Emilie, his family and friends and colleagues.

J’ai rencontré Henri bien trop vite et trop tard. Pourtant, en seulement quelques jours, son sourire et sa gentillesse m’ont marqué pour longtemps. On n’oublie jamais une personnalité aussi brillante, aussi attachante.

J’ai rencontré Henri bien trop vite et trop tard. Pourtant, en seulement quelques jours, son sourire et sa gentillesse m’ont marqué pour longtemps. On n’oublie jamais une personnalité aussi brillante, aussi attachante.

Mai 1997 j’arrive pour la première fois à Johannesburg. Je ne connais pas ce pays, je ne connais personne.Quand j’arrive à l IFAS et que je fais connaissance avec Henri c’était quitte ou double. Soit j’allais le détester soit j’allais l’aimer comme un frère . Avec sa démarche inimitable, ses costumes gris et ses chemises oranges il ne pouvait pas passer inaperçu. Le plus redoutable dans sa panoplie de dandy était son sourire et son rire. Simplement irrésistible ….On était obligé de l’aimer. Avec son frère Thierry ils m ont pris sous leur aile et sont devenus comme des grands frères pour moi. Ils étaient si à l’aise dans ce pays pour moi si nouveau à l’époque .Quand je pense à Henri j’ai tellement de choses qui me reviennent en mémoire.Cette maison incroyable avec cette piscine vide ou les fêtes se succédaient les unes après les autres, sa Beettle jaune décapotable que toute la ville connaissait, son humour qui dont il avait probablement hérité de sa naissance bruxelloise et son amour pour l’art . Il pouvait en parler des heures, et sa relation avec les artistes me surprenait à chaque fois . Il les aimait, tellement. Pas que leur art mais les hommes et les femmes qu’ils étaient. Il était un peu artiste lui aussi. C’est pour ça qu il les comprenait si bien . Après quand j’ai quitté le pays on ne s’est jamais oublié.20 ans plus tard on arrivait à se voir et c’était comme au premier jour . La seule nouveauté c’était Émilie et son éternel optimisme . Tout était beau pour elle . Mon Henri, on devait se voir à mon mariage l’été dernier . J’aurais tellement voulu que tu vois ma nouvelle famille, ma petite Anouk . Je suis sûr que tu aurais été fier de moi . Tu vas tellement me manquer . Je t’aime mon frère . Pour toujours, ton PG alias James Dean

Henri portrayed enthusiasm and humanity, a veritable whiff of fresh air in the art world.  He was warm and welcoming, humble and down-to-earth, supportive and genuinely interested in other people. He brought to an art fair the type of stimulating conversations that you have around the dinner table with people you like to spend time with. The artists he hung out with and represented seemed to be family to him and he was more interested in the stories and background than the art works,- which is how it should be. Prioritizing humanity and people feels to me to be his greatest legacy, beyond the international acclaim that he achieved for Afronova and the artists he worked with. I greatly respect Henri as a person, and will miss him very much. His work will live on, I am sure.

Henri I am trying not to make our memories of Henri about me.

It is very hard to get to the person that he was without going through me, and so doing I grandstand him. I have noted that people write wonderful messages and obituaries nowadays-on social media walls andstatuses directed at people who have passed, on public platforms for themselves. There seems to be a culture for clamoring for the statusof chief mourners. To that, I have said repeatedly that I am held up by duty and the responsibility to my friend Henri. This writing is not about that, it is about describing the part of Henri that I had the privilege to experience, the parts that our circumstantial relationship allowed for. The glimpses and shards of light that peers through show a person who lived fully, who lived spontaneously in an ordered world. A beautiful chaos bloomed out of Henri’s energy, feeding most of those around him. He gifted me with many reasons to love him, his treating of me, my partner Mary and my son with the same respect. How can you not love a man who is able to make your son laugh uncontrollably when so many others have failed? We had a reoccurring joke that I began when we starting to work with each other as gallerist and artist. I said dismissively to him “what are you doing with an “almost has been artist” like myself?” he mischievously and repeatedly would say at every adventure-not bad for an almost has been, huh?!?!?!!! We abused and mocked each other that way, and for some reason it was this second coming of my work and his gallery vision that strengthened our bond and fed us intellectually and spiritually. His table was the meeting of minds, storytelling, debating artists, artworks, ideas and processes. Mary and I were always late for our gatherings at his open plan house and equally always left too soon. At whichever hour after 12 in the morning. With disbelief on his face, he would echo Emilie’s “leaving sosoon?” . By the time we realized his quite isolation he was gone. And so, begins the gnawing series of ‘if only’s?’, ‘had I only known’ and ‘maybe the last time we couldhaves’.It is unbelievable to me for him to have left so soon, a guest and host in our party departing unannounced. We had so many unwritten plans, one of which was our trip to Japan. For a being who was a magnet for so many it is sadly ironic that he departed all alone. From what I know, I think that he would want us to grieve joyously, to be glad to have partaken in his sacrament. I pray farewell my friend

Version française

Avec Henri Vergon, la curiosité a toujours été un bien beau défaut. Nous avons rencontré pour la première fois Henri le 3 juillet 2010 dans sa galerie Afronova downtown à Joburg. Sa galerie était à son image, un grand espace ouvert sur le monde et sur les artistes. Ce fut un partage amical immédiat tant sa passion et son enthousiasme étaient contagieux. Ce même jour, Henri nous avait plongé pendant un déjeuner dans le film de la vie et de sa relation avec Samson Mnisi. Ce souvenir restera à jamais gravé au fond de nos cœurs. Avec Henri, nous avons découvert des artistes majeurs de la scène sud-africaine comme Mary Sibandé, Lawrence Lemaoana, Billie Zangewa, Wayne Barker puis, au fil de nos rencontres, les travaux d’Alice Mann, de Senzeni Marasela et tant d’autres. Sa curiosité et son énergie pour découvrir de nouveaux talents étaient inépuisables. Henri tel un conteur, savait comme personne embarquer ses interlocuteurs sur les traces des œuvres qu’il présentait, et plus d’une fois, il a su par ses récits et ses explications nous montrer le magnétisme profond de certaines œuvres qui n’avaient pas su nous attirer au premier regard. Henri travaillait avec des artistes visuels, mais tel un véritable griot, il était le narrateur de leur création.Au cours des années, nous avons franchi la porte de la maison d’Henri et Emilie, avec à chaque fois le même bonheur, celui de plonger dans un monde de joie où la tradition africaine de l’accueil et la création artistique, les artistes et l’amitié sont rois. Henri était toujours du côté des artistes, tel un grand frère attentif, bienveillant et exigeant, et plus que tout, il aspirait à leur reconnaissance et à leur notoriété dans le monde entier.La force d’Henri et d’Emilie est de ne jamais rentrer dans le rang et même s’ils sont les premiers à être fiers des succès mondiaux des artistes qu’ils ont découverts, ils n’hésitent jamais à se remettre en question, à rencontrer encore et toujours de nouveaux talents. Henri savait emprunter des chemins non balisés pour tracer de nouvelles voies.L’histoire s’est terminée un soir de la semaine dernière en Afrique du sud, ce pays que tu aimais tant et pour lequel tu as tant fait.Mais tes histoires vivront à jamais dans le souvenir de toutes celles et de tous ceux qui t’ont connu.Henri, ton sourire malicieux, ton accueil et tes histoires nous manquent déjà. Emilie, nous savons que les mots ne veulent plus rien dire aujourd’hui. Alors, nous pleurons avec toi

English version

The art world is mourning one of its greatest men. The famous gallery owner Henri Vergon passed away in Johannesburg, South Africa. Our thoughts go out to his family and loved ones. Gervanne and Matthias Leridon, as well as Jean-Michel Champault, pay homage to this extraordinary character who will mark the history of contemporary African art.

« With Henri Vergon, curiosity has always been a beautiful flaw. We met Henri for the first time on July 3rd 2010 in his gallery Afronova, downtown in Joburg. His gallery was at his image, a large space open to the world and to artists. It was an immediate friendly sharing as his passion and enthusiasm were contagious. That same day, Henri had immersed us during a lunch in the film of life and his relationship with Samson Mnisi. This memory will remain forever engraved in our hearts. With Henri, we discovered major artists of the South African scene such as Mary Sibandé, Lawrence Lemaoana, Billy Zamgewa, Wayne Barker and, as we met, the works of Alice Mann, Senzeni Marasela and so many others as his curiosity and his energy to discover new talents were inexhaustible. Henri, like a storyteller, knew how to take his interlocutors on the tracks of the works he was presenting, and more than once, he knew how to show us through his stories and explanations the deep magnetism of certain works that had failed to attract us at first sight. Henri worked with visual artists, but like a true griot, he was the narrator of their creation. Over the years, we walked through the door of Henri and Emilie’s house, and each time with the same happiness, that of plunging into a world of joy where the tradition of African hospitality and artistic creation, artists and friendship would be the kings. Henri was always on the side of the artists, like an attentive, benevolent and demanding big brother, and more than anything else, he aspired to their recognition and notoriety throughout the world. Henri and Emilie’s strength is that they never fell in line and even if they were the first to be proud of the worldwide success of the artists they discovered, they never hesitated to question themselves, to meet new talents again and again. Henri knew how to take unmarked paths to trace new paths. The story ended one evening last week in South Africa, the country you loved so much and for which you did so much. But your stories will live forever in the memories of all those who knew you. Henri, we already miss your mischievous smile, your welcome and your stories. Emilie, we know that words mean nothing today. So we cry with you. »

C’est d’abord un rire, la lumière radiale de Johannesburg, pieds nus au volant de sa Bettle jaune cabriolet que Henri est venu m’accueillir il y a 20 ans à l’aéroport pour l’inauguration d’une exposition muséale consacrée à Marc Chagall. C’était un projet ambitieux que nous avions initié deux années auparavant et qui nous avait permis de réunir autour de nous Meret Meyer et une équipe de passionnés, séduite par l’enthousiasme d’Henri pour sa nouvelle terre d’adoption, ce pays aux mille visages où tout restait à faire. Henri s’y sentait chez lui et son talent pour rapprocher les gens, bâtir des ponts était unique.Avec cette exposition Chagall, Henri avait ouvert la voie à d’autres projets et collaborations entre la France et l’Afrique du Sud et il lui fallait trouver d’autres terres à défricher.Son ouverture d’esprit et sa curiosité allait à l’encontre du carcan administratif dans lequel il évoluait à cette époque, rattaché alors à l’Institut Français de Johannesburg. Les faux semblants, la politique et les petits arrangements entre soi n’étaient vraiment pas sa tasse de thé. Henri voyait grand et rien ne devait entraver sa soif d’apprendre, de comprendre et de transmettre.Henri rayonnait par sa curiosité, son enthousiasme et son esprit libre. Il était un découvreur et sa galerie Afronova est rapidement devenue une pouponnière d’artistes influents, passage obligé pour de nombreux directeurs d’institutions fidèles à ses choix et son engagement.Respect mon Riton pour ce parcours sans concession et avoir fait rayonner autour du monde autant de talents. Tu tires ta révérence alors que le monde décide de se mettre en pause. Tu passes le relais à ta douce Emilie et tu nous laisses sans voix, incrédules. Tu vas continuer d’être parmi nous encore longtemps mon ami, car tu es de ceux dont l’énergie est une source d’inspiration.Certains de tes artistes disaient de toi que tu étais leur «Mentor», pour nous tu es un ami rare et fidèle, un compagnon de voyage et de jeux, un esprit créatif et débridé. Tu vas tellement nous manquer.

I first met Henri at 1-54 London, in 2015. I could see that he was a walking encyclopedia, very knowledgeable of Art in general and specially Contemporary Art from the African Continent, specifically South Africa. Above all he was very close to the Artists he worked with. And they were very comfortable with him.Yet, simultaneously, he was a very humble and generous man, and always considerate to reach out and build bridges. That ́is how I shall remember Henri: a unifier, a great example of how to build bridges between artists, between galleries, between curators, between fairs, between people-overall between the many islands which persist in the ́art world ́.We spoke a few days ago about a new artist that had been my assistant at an Art Fair for two consecutive years. He was so happy to be working with her. As alwayshe was in great spirits and excited, despite this online reality we are going through. What a great soul!

Henri, you will be surely missed!!!

Version française

Message du ciel

Ami

Le temps est merveilleux

au bord du silence

Un jour deux jours trois que faire des horloges

J’ai l’éternité

Henri,

Ami

Terre terre

Mes yeux sont emplis de souvenirs

Niki’s oasis jazz bar

Johannesburg

bra Andrew
Samson
Karl Aisha

tous autres nuits blanches

fous rires

Zero héros

la suite tu la connais

Maputo Brooklyn London Dakar

Emilie

Paris

Tes mots tes bras tes wouah ton sourire nous rappellent à la vie

tu as choisi la compagnie des étoiles

nous t’aimons aussi longtemps qu’une étoile

André

English version

Message from the sky

Friends
time is wonderful
on the edge of silence
One day two days three
who cares about clocks

Henri
Earth earth
My eyes are full of memories

Niki’s Jazz Bar
Johannesburg
bra Andrew
Samson
Karl Aisha
sleepless nights
endless laughter
Zero heroes

You know
the rest
Maputo Brooklyn Dakar London
Emilie
Chuck Berry

continents
your navigation

Wouah doo wap
all smiles
all electric

You chose the company of the stars
by the time the century
is in tatters

jitsi meet instant free
on line
and the beauty of the sky
your joy that the night cannot quench

I do not sleep

André

Version française

Ton énergie, ton enthousiasme, ton sourire, ta joie communicante laissent place au silence, à la tristesse. Chacun d’entre nous te connaissait et pour une fois tu ne vas pas nous rendre la vie facile. Nos pensées vont à tes parents, Emilie, tes proches. Tous ceux qui t’aiment.

André, Cyrille, Michel, Pauline, Philippe, Thaïs

English version

Your energy, your enthusiasm, your smile, your communicative joy leave the room for silence, sadness. Each of us has known you and for once you won’t make it easy. Our thoughts go to your parents, Emilie, your relatives. All those who love you.

André, Cyrille, Michel, Pauline, Philippe, Thaïs

As one of the newer artists represented by Afronova, I can still clearly remember the excitement I felt when I started working with Henri and Emilie, and the effort they made to welcome me. Henri was such a warm and open person, he deeply engaged with and genuinely cared about the artists he worked with, and he and Emilie fostered a really special and beautiful sense of community, exchange and friendship. Henri, you were one of the most passionate, energetic and interesting people I have ever met. I remember the first time we met, how it was meant to be a quick meeting in the late afternoon… which I only ended up leaving several hours later, after sharing many glasses of rose, dinner, and hours of amazing conversation! You challenged and motivated me, and I learnt so much from you. Working with you has had a profound impact on me, and I am truly thankful to have known you, as a collaborator and a friend. It is a privilege to be amongst the incredible artists that Afronova represents, and I look forward to continuing to grow and develop with the gallery into the future.

Henri’s smile is the first thing that comes to mind when i think of himit filled his face from ear to ear and radiated happiness, joy, excitement, tall, naturally elegant,but tempered with that infectious smile, he came into our lives when he visited our east village studio while in brooklynfor the 1:54 art fair we were having a gathering there for our friend alexis adler’s collection of early basquiat drawings from the time he lived with her a few doors down from our studio.henri was thrilled to come upon such a gathering that was really representative of“the olddays” of the 80s east village. He couldn’t stop smiling from then on, whenever henri and emilie were in town, we would see them, and it was always a pleasure to be with them, share art stories and life stories we were dreaming of being able to visit them in johannesburg, or in marrakesh for the art festival there. sadly, this did not come to pass, and in our covid days, it seems a dream of another time, a past reality I was fortunate enough to see them one last time in london, when they were there for the 1-54 show at somerset house. we always loved eating seafood together, and we shared that last moment together with joy, laughter and dreams of the future ahead. I made this painting,“large red glass”in memory of henri vergon

I was trying to get him to meet me at Chicken Licken in Rosebank. We were going to discuss gallerymatters over hotwings. He knew what chicken licken was, he knew the streets and the ways of Johannesburg. Its just that I could not find for him an equivalent in fine French cuisine. I’ am sure there is, he laughed when I suggest this. I told him, you already go fearlessly into Johannesburg, what’s eating at Chicken Licken. We were in Cape Town in March, so ready for the future unaware of the world we were marching to. The strangeness of these days, without him. He was always nearby. For everyone. A message, an email away. He never sat down when were around always getting something. I miss that tea from his yellow enamel pot. I miss meetings with him and Emilie. We will go ahead with plans for the future. Visit all those places you said we should. In that quiet place you are, be our guarding light. We know you can hear us. Henri of France born in Belgium via Johannesburg.

We lost his permanent smile and the happiness that he was able to share every day with all o fus…..Unique and Unforgettable.

25 années, Henri et Philippe

Les cheveux au vent

De Cape Town à Joburg

De Tokyo à Paris,

On a partagé beaucoup

Ton air d’Humphrey Bogart

« a French dandy in Africa »

Ton enthousiasme, ton

éternel smile

Toi « l’être aimant et tant aimé »

Témoin d’une époque

« The new South Africa »

Ton parcours,

au début avec Laurent Devèze,

IFAS puis AFRONOVA.

Ton engagement,

ta vision

Au fil des années

Tu es devenu la Référence

J’ai eu le privilège d’avoir vécu 25 années de complicité avec toi,

nos routes se croisent régulièrement de Tokyo, Paris,

Cape Town, ou le Bush

ensemble

Le Monde de l’Art a perdre un Homme rare.

Toutes mes pensées à ta maman, ton frère Thierry, ta famille

A Emilie, ton amoureuse et partner

Laurent Deveze et de très très nombreux autres

Henri left the building

De la ou tu es,

je te souris la larme à l’œil,

et tu me fait un clin d’œil.

Je t’aime.

I met Henri at the opening of JP Morgan through a dear friend Lebohang Kganye. He spoke fast and with a deep French accent. It is his honesty about what is considered proper art and his views on the art industry that lead me into paying a lot attention to what he says. We often filter our opinions, Henri did not. His opinions might be seen as mean or sensitive to artists, but it’s constructive if taken into account. He would say it like it is and laugh about it. He takes his time getting to know an artist as an individual and a human being. He reassures an artist that you are human and are special, you see that in his interests for your story and how he genuinely has a vision for your work as a global impact. I knew that I belonged when I met Henri and Emilie. There is something special about their positive energy that makes you believe in yourself and your art. I wish I got to know you better and learn a lot more than I already do. I am grateful for the short memory. And I believe it will continue to inspire me and motivate me. Thank you

Je disais toujours en riant que c’était les seuls galeristes que j’aimais. Mais comment ne pas aimer le rire contagieuxd’Henri et le sourire d’Emilie. C’est à travers les images de Lebohang Kganye que j’ai découvert Afronova. Très vite un dialogue s’est instauré entre nous. Nous échangions sur les photographes qu’Henri et Emilie représentaient et que nous suivionsde près avec Afrique in visu. Le duo d’Afronova avait le don de toujours choisir des photographes qui nous touchaient tant par les sujets que par leurs esthétiques si sensibles et prononcées.Toujours des choix audacieux d’artistes, aux sujets engagés. Et très vite avec l’accompagnement précieux d’Henri et Emilie, leurs œuvres dépassaient les frontières du continent pour être remarquées à l’internationale. La première rencontre dans le monde réel, je m’en rappelerai toujours, c’étaità 1:54. Lors de la foire, j’avais foncé sur le stand pour voir enfin les tirages de la série Ke Lefa Laka: Her-Story/Heir-Story de Lebohang. Les 4 jours suivant, le Stand d’ Afronova était devenu ma maison et celles de nombreux artistes ou commissaires de passage. Même sur un stand, Henri et Emilie ont toujours eu ledon de vous faire vous sentir chez vous. Depuis, cette maison éphémère voyageait autantque nos rencontres, plusieurs fois par an, dans tant de pays différents. Henri, ton rire, ton humour et ton audace, nous accompagneront longtemps.

Tu m’aurais surement ri au nez en me voyant arriver avec mes roses et mes yeux bouffis. 

De ce rire nature, un poil sarcastique, qui dit juste, sans un mot, toute l’absurdité d’être là. Et de ne plus l’être. Un rire comme un tic nerveux, qui explose comme de la couleur sur les murs invisibles, farouchement libre, les pieds et le cœur nus, dans une galerie de faux-semblants. 

D’un pas lourd, sous un cœur de plomb, j’ai repris ma route et le chemin des souvenirs long de vingt ans. Les croissants du matin dans ta coccinelle jaune et nos virées à Beryl Court ont rendu mes tout premiers pas à Joburg aussi légers que mémorables. Et nos après-midis au bord de la piscine sont sûrement, pour les filles et moi, nos meilleurs moments de l’été dernier. J’ai adoré. 

Je quitte Joburg avec un peu de toi dans mes valises, des souvenirs orphelins et ma douleur pour tes proches et ta chérie qui est aussi un peu la mienne. Je serai là. 

Que d’amour, les pieds et le cœur nus, la vie prenne sa route. 

Au son de son rire, je continue à voir des œuvres s’animer. C’est comme si c’était hier, pourtant notre première rencontre à Paris remonte à 1999, avec Henri et son ami David, porteurs enthousiastes du projet d’une importante exposition monographique de Chagall, la toute première grande manifestation autour d’un artiste majeur du XXe siècle en Afrique du Sud. Impressionnée par leur détermination souriante, celle d’Henri, messager de l’IFAS extrêmement dynamique et celle de David, jeune expert en art du XXe siècle au sein d’une galerie d’art parisienne, amis depuis toujours, je garde également en mémoire une certaine fraîcheur nourrie par leur approche inexpérimentée. A aucun moment, ces premiers liens tissés dans la véracité se sont distendus, même face à la mise en place d’un cadre officiel et institutionnel bien indispensable par les Services diplomatiques d’Afrique du Sud et de la France et par les collections publiques pour mener à bien la mise à disposition des prêts dont ceux de la famille que je représentais. Comment ne pas se remémorer le grand succès remporté par l’exposition Chagall en 2000 articulé en deux lieux, à Johannesburg et à Cape Town! En même temps, le début d’un partage de passion personnelle pour ce pays à travers les défenseurs des artistes contemporains et de la scène artistique en plein bouillonnement qu’Henri absorbait et intégrait pleinement. En 2002, autour d’un nouveau grand projet, la première exposition monographique de Miro à Johannesburg à laquelle je fus directement associée en tant que co-commissaires avec mon ami Alan Crump, la liberté et la vivacité dont furent imprégnés les nombreux échanges avec Henri restent des éclats en rehaut dans ma mémoire. A chaque rencontre avec Henri en Afrique du Sud, aussi peu fréquentes qu’elles aient été, l’énergie amicale fut instantanément retrouvée. Initiateur, découvreur et catalyseur d’une scène artistique en devenir, avec une vivacité ensoleillée constamment renouvelée, Henri rayonnait par sa curiosité sans faille dédoublée par les véritables liens de confiance dont témoignaient ses amitiés avec les créateurs. Ses choix, toujours désintéressés, gardent en mémoire sa passion, ses passions,toujours sans limite. Le son de son rire, les étincelles dans ses yeux, tant de lumières et couleurs en résonance avec mes souvenirs d’Henri, si présents aujourd’hui.

There are many things I have admired about Henri Vergon. That he had an exceptional eye is undeniable, but what I will cherish most in my memories of him is his expansive heart. Henri did not just make people feel welcome, he truly welcomed an ever growing circle of friends into his life. I can’t remember a time we met in which I wasn’t greeted with a grin that danced all the way down to his toes.

On one trip to Johannesburg, Henri and Emilie fetched me first thing in the morning and we spent the day driving from one studio or exhibition to another so that I might chat at length with artists whether Afronova represented them or not. Last stop was their home. We arrived exhausted, but still talking and ended up sitting on their back veranda eating and drinking wine well into the night. 

Perhaps my favorite memory of Henri, however, is from New York City. He, Emilie and I had arranged to meet for dinner but I was late–of course (somehow, I managed to keep Henri waiting across three continents). I finally arrived with another friend, Silvia Forni, at the dumpling restaurant they had chosen. We proceeded to order an array of dumplings and some very creative drinks that included a margarita made with vodka. We laughed so hard that night, it’s a wonder we managed to swallow any food.

Henri brought joy to those whose lives he touched, and he touched a lot of lives. I will always admire the support he gave so generously to the arts and artists alike. I will miss his kindness, his laughter, and the cocktails and conversations we had yet to enjoy together.

The white T-shirt, or the white shirt, or a combination of both, jeans, and white sneakers. Asmile with matching white teeth showing–or more likely a wide grin. With a flicker of impish delight in his eyes. The warmth of his friendship. His passion for contemporary African art and artists. In the sometimes (or often?) callous world of the art business, he cared about the artists and artwork that he promoted. In a world where it’s often difficult to keep your integrity, he kept his. Even when those whom he invested in, and those in his business, were not as honest and straight with him, he stuckto what he believed in–even when he was in financial straits. He wanted to discover worthy artists, nurture artists and their work. He always kept his integrity. That is one of the things I loved about him.It sounds corny, but he made me believe in humanity. He was so true to himself and his aspirations. His love and care for Emilie. He was quite old fashioned when it came to love.

He said early on to me, that he wanted to get married to Emilie, but he didn’t want to until he was sure he was economically more stable. He then waited to ask for her hand from her father. He respected her art sense. He saw her as a partner not just in private life, but also in business, and hugely appreciated what Emilie brought to the table. He was also old-fashioned in that he would still read newspapers in hardcopy, and kept up with international and domestic (South African) news. He was very astute and intelligent, but never showed that off. He worried about Emilie’s safety in Joburg. He contemplated branching out to New York andJapan. He loved both. It’s difficult to really absorb the fact that Henri has passed. He is the type of person who will never leave us. He will always live with(in) us. And I hope South Africa’s and Africa’scontemporary art scene and artists will remember the contributions he made. He will be sorely missed.

I am a devastation of desolate. i cant help but absorb and unleash my chaos inside out. i have no many minds and non at all in this brain.. I met a real human but i was still blinded by my miserable habits of thought, i created a wall of pain and languished in my fetish for disaster, i am still ticking. My brother remember to remember me, even in nothing the thought existed to be the word of manifestation, Henri I miss you already, now that i know you took a ship to home away from home. i remember more my fragile mortality. Henri my friend I really wish for what my ears will not hear . and the warmth of a brother. Please come see me in my dreams, there is a lot i took for granted. I want to drink coffee and eat a croissant . admiring you elegance and fare,come see me with my grand mother she will teach you the flying song, so that you keep your wings, love and friendship,

You and Henri have always shown me a beautiful sense of community and support in the many years that we shared working in the Johannesburg art scene. I am distraught at the notion that we have lost someone who truly believed in what we do. Henri was one of very few people I knew who fostered a true genuine spirit of collaboration. I will remember every soiree and encounter we had over the years with deep fondness-the laughter and fun was just as important as the hustle. You both made me feel like I was a part of something valuable and I will never forget that.

Dear Henri,

I wish I could have had the chance to say goodbye. We still have so much to discuss especially about how to make art more available to a greater public. Your absence is palpable; you gave unselfishly for the sake of humanity. Who will I laugh, cry, and sing with into the wee hours of the morning? Who will advocate for art against the pressing daily needs for survival?

You loved life! Oh how I wish we could have had more time to sing and dance, drink and be merry, finally to listen, and heal. We will miss you because you touched our lives in many ways, and that cannot be forgotten. Our time here is measured, what matters most is how it is spent. You have been a beacon of light and hope. How I wish that wishes could come true. Giving you a final send-off would be amazing. In these recent times of living with the pandemic, it has made us realize how fragile life can be. As you transition into the new world, we think of you fondly and shed joyful tears that we able to learn from each other while you were on this earth. You’ve come a long way and your journey hasn’t ended yet. For death is not the end, but the beginning of a new journey that we all must travel at some point.

Hamba kahle mngani, may we meet again in the after-life.

Like water all life force must return to its source.

I vividly recall meeting Henri Vergon during my first trip to South Africa back in 2006. I was inJohannesburg to see galleries, connect with fellow collectors, and make studio visits. I spenta day in the fledgling downtown gallery scene, popping by David Goldblatt’s Market PhotoWorkshop where I met Andrew Tshabangu and Lolo Veleko, among other emerging artists. Everyone was talking about this new space-Afronova-that « the guy from the French Consultate » had started. Out of time and out of breath, I thankfully arrived just before closing time and ended my day in a memorable conversation with Henri that lasted well into the night. He was such a passionate art lover, and his enthusiasm for local artists-especially his own eclectic stable-was infectious. We began a friendship and shared mission around the celebration and promotion of contemporary African art that has been a wonderfully enriching journey. My heart breaks for his longtime partner Emilie Demon, but I know she will carry on his legacy with the unique vision of Afronova

Beauty Mr Man: A poem for Henri:  

Beautiful days gone just like that – like that yellow helicopter in the mellow days of our youth and quest for truth – did we find it in laughter and ideas about being and letters writ and unwrit – pretty in your gesture – that is hard to live without – we are learning to breathe again while holding on to sense color the gift you live us – now we are in the winter of our day and thoughts and feelings.

I laugh that other side of laughter sad laughter I may say for it is without you now- I would laugh if I could for that is it you inspire happiness however the weather and your memory is just that you thought one how to dream whiles grounded on reality. Yes while gathering strength from your teachings my eyes are heavy and that make me wail in the inside for you are gone and I dearly miss you Henri – only if we could dwell in the house of memories then we could reconcile our pain but then again we shall always nurture the garden of beauty you left behind with our hearts and doings.

If I could sing I would but then silence is not even consoling for it is the sorrow songs we have – but then you left us. 

Trust you at peace – even though my sorrow songs refrain – rise if possible beautiful man.

I met Henri Vergon when he was still at the French Institute, he helped facilitate Taking Stock, an exhibition that took place on the old Johannesburg Stock Exchange floor that I co-curated with Marco Cianfinelli and Andrea Burgener during the time of the second Johannesburg Biennale. He was a life force that enthused artists and I am terribly sad to hear of his passing and our thoughts are with Emilie Demon his life partner. May you rest in peace beautiful Henri

Henri was such a positive energy which we cherished when meeting him at various art fairs around the world. His work through so many vectors with Afronova Gallery had a remarkable impact on the contemporary international art scene

Your porch was a nestling spot; we dined in your gifting of laughter, knowledge and probingthoughts-In your essence that seemed always on the edge of breaking into a dance, if notalready dancing.Passionate conversations gliding around the table in the tipsy evening… The night seemed forever young… The night seemed so honest.The gather always revealing new perspectives and leaving me enthused; about art, life,myself.The porch, the table, the gather, will never be the same without you.But you will always shine over South Africa and us artists to give us the strength to go on.Impilo iphinde ingabinaqiniso ngoba isitsha esihle kasidleli. Kosala izibongo nenkumbuloephindana neculo lakho qhawe. Isivakashi kasithenjisiwe, kusinwa kudedelwana. usilindelekwelokuthula, ulale ngoxolo.May we gather once more to celebrate you, and watch you fly away.“You will forever be the part of our family Of Soul and Joy

For Art Times

Obituary: Henri Vergon (1968-2020)

Sean O’Toole remembers the life and achievements of a fiercely independent dealer

Art dealers leave fingerprints, little traces and impressions of their enthusiasms that remain – like filigree watermarks, not stains – long after their deaths. In the case of Henri Vergon, the Brussels-born dealer who died at age 51 of a heart attack at his home in Johannesburg, hints and suggestions of his vital presence will remain evident for decades to come. Best known for his Afronova platform – a roaming dealership and fair-based enterprise that initially existed as a physical gallery space in central Johannesburg – Vergon’s flair for promotion helped establish the careers of two generations of talents, notably Billie Zangewa, Lebohang Kganye and Phumzile Khanyile.

Much like his predecessors, the European émigrés Madame Fernande Haenggi, Egon Guenther and Reinhold Cassirer, all formidable forces in the history of art in Johannesburg, Vergon made it his mission as a dealer to expand cultural tastes and art patronage in his adoptive home. His enthusiasms were particularly directed at African art. Writing in a 2007 catalogue accompanying an ensemble showcase of artists allied to his two-year-old space, Vergon described Afronova as “a polyphonic platform for African contemporary expressions”.

Established with R30 000 and lots of chutzpah, Afronova lived up to this claim, early on hosting solo shows for Malian photographer Malick Sidibé, Cameroonian artist Joël Mpah Dooh and Haitian artist Mario Benjamin. Vergon’s worldly tastes owed a great deal to his idiosyncratic apprenticeship in art. A graduate of the French business school EDHEC, he briefly worked in the United States in the late 1980s before moving to Paris, in 1991, to take up employment in culture agency. He briefly worked as an intern for a dealer in classical African art before, in 1995, securing a position as a cultural officer at the French Institute of South Africa (IFAS) in Johannesburg.

“I was born again here,” Vergon told journalist Fred de Vries in a 2006 interview of his personal renewal in newly democratic South Africa. “I became a new man. Everybody I met was completely open. They had all been fragmented by recent history. They were questioning themselves: where did they come from, and what did their fathers do? They were trying to make sense and give themselves a place in the future, building a new world. I threw away all my old protection and jumped straight into the same pool.”

Vergon was speaking metaphorically, although in 1997, to celebrate the opening of the second Johannesburg Biennale, IFAS hosted an artists’ party in a derelict home in the suburb of Riviera where the late-night carousing spilled from the house into an empty pool. The formless possibilities and newfound cosmopolitanism of 1990s Johannesburg left a deep impression on Vergon. In 2000, when artist Kendell Geers initiated a petition calling on the Department of Arts and Culture to reinstate the defunct Johannesburg Biennale, Vergon chimed in: “We want it again. We need it. We will make it.”

Without the galvanising forum of biennale, Vergon, through IFAS, helped coordinate numerous exhibitions, festivals and singular one-off events in Johannesburg, many in and around the Market Theatre precinct. In 1997, for example, IFAS underwrote an exhibition devoted to poet and cultural maverick Sinclair Beiles. Born Uganda, but raised in Johannesburg, Beiles came to prominence through his collaborations with expatriates living in Paris, among them poet Gregory Corso, novelist William S. Burroughs and Greek kinetic artist Takis. Staged in a reconstituted Beat Hotel created inside a disused warehouse in Newtown, Sinclair Beiles and the Beat Hotel drew attention to an overlooked local avatar of creative experimentation.

Vergon continued to support innovation and difficulty in the new decade. He was the driving force behind Wayne Barker’s 2000 Chalkham Hill Press monograph authored by Charl Blignaut. In 2001, while still at IFAS, he assisted Steven Cohen with the artist’s controversial performance piece, Chandelier (2001–02), which culminated in the artist walking through a demolished shack settlement wearing a chandelier-costume. And in 2002, Vergon included artists Mounir Fatmi (Morocco), Goncalo Mabunda (Mozambique) and Goddy Leye (Cameroon), now all highly regarded figures, in an exhibition that formed part of a five-day arts festival in Newtown called Playtime.

The 2005 opening of Afronova was a life-defining transition for Vergon. The new gallery debuted with a two-person show featuring local painter Samson Mnisi and Ethiopian artist Gera Mawi Mazgabu. Tapping his Francophone networks, in particular his hero, Paris dealer André Magnin, Vergon began to show and sell work by “visionary moderns” like Congolese painter Cheri Samba and actively promote “young contemporaries”. His first major successes were with expressionist painter Karl Gietl and textile artist Billie Zangewa.

It was a call to write a catalogue essay for Zangewa’s 2007 exhibition at Afronova that cemented a longstanding friendship. I can’t say I knew Henri in any privileged way. But long after resigning my role as a magazine editor and writing less newspaper criticism, Henri continued to seek me out at fairs in Cape Town, London and New York. He was lashing in his gossip and steadfast in his enthusiasms, especially for the photographic talent being nurtured by the Market Photo Workshop. I loved Henri for this, his support of photography – a medium more spoken of and written about than collected in South Africa. An unremembered fact online is that in the early 2000s Vergon self-published a small book of his own photographs, a sequence of Jo Ractliffe-esque documents of empty Johannesburg billboards.

Much like dealer Warren Siebrits, Henri was an art merchant who privileged patiently cultivated networks over the razzmatazz of real estate and visible infrastructure. It is a way of being in the art world that, for Henri and long-time partner,  Emilie Demon, enabled Afronova to represent its artists at offbeat fairs and place their work in benchmark collections, including the Walther Collection and Jean Pigozzi’s Contemporary African Art Collection. Henri’s commitment to his artists was, I’ll admit, old fashioned. He liked to assemble and commune with them.

Last year, during the run of the ludicrously insular FNB Art Joburg, which excluded Afronova, among many, I nipped off to visit Henri at his home in Parkhurst. Gallery artists Alice Mann and Lawrence Lemaoana were among the guests, although, really, it was no occasion, just a get-together – a gathering of fragments, as Henri once wrote, to foster métissage. As one beer turned to two, Henri plonked down a copy of a 544-page book, Sex, Race & Colonies. The book contains 1200 erotic portrayals (in photographs, paintings and prints) of colonised people made from the 15th century to the present day. The book elicited howls of criticism in France when it appeared in 2018. “I had no idea,” I told Henri. He grinned in that Cheshire cat way of his. Once again, he was broadening my horizons.

Ow Emy where do you start talking about a man like Henri, no words in this world could describe him(to us he was not only a friend but a brother, if Angels do exist then I have a friend,a brother who is an Angel) yes of course he was a personification of an Angel

My darling Henri, It breaks my heart how you were taken away from us so soon. The saddest part is not being able to say our last goodbyes. You contributed immensely to the art world in South Africa & abroad. You’ve continuously found raw talent and brought them to the fore. You were never interested in the limelight, always behind the scenes, behind the lens but your presence was felt at all times. Your light shined so brightly that you had a way of igniting our lights. You had a way of easing someone else’s pain just by being your joyful self. I’m going to miss those special ‘goofy’ moments with you. I can still hear your laughter in my ears. The Afronova gallery has always been committed to pushing African Art on all platforms. Some shut their doors on your face, but you artistically maneuvered with so much care & respect, made sure that the young/black artist had a place & a voice in those elite artplatforms. Thank you for making sure that I was not left behind. It is through you and Emilie that the 154 Art-Fair knew my name and I could be a VIP in all their art-fairs. You connected people from all backgrounds, races, classes, cultures & customs. Your willingness to always want to jump in & assist was so powerfully charming. You respected &treated your artist fairly & supported them emotionally & made sure that you knew them personally. The art world has lost a giant who is so passionate about African Art. Your love& kindness will always be with us. You have left so many footprints. You might be gone but in our hearts, you will always be alive. Heaven received a new Angel-Goodbye my friend

Henri n’était pas un galeriste mais un ami et un frère. Je me souviens de cette première fois, à Johannesburg. Ce que l’on appelait alors le Centre Culturel Français. Ce garçon dégingandé, à la décontraction communicative qui parle d’ouvrir une galerie. Je me souviens,quelques années plus tard, peut-être moins, le début des années 90. La galerie était là. Au Market Theater. Le jeune homme avait tenu parole. Il avait tout envoyé valser pour se consacrer à sa passion. Aucune demi-mesure. Je l’ai vu ensuite, dans les fêtes, dans les dîners, dans les foires. Il détonnait toujours avec la faune ambiante. Il n’entrait pas dans les codes. Se fichait des convenances. Je l’ai vu travailler avec les artistes. Il ne travaillait pas. Il échangeait, il soutenait. Il tirait des plans sur la comète. Et le plus fou c’est que cela fonctionnait. Parce que Henri ne calculait pas. Il avait ces rêves qui le poussaient à aller toujours plus loin. Nous parlions très peu du monde de l’art, mais de la vie. De nos passions. Parce qu’il n’existait aucune barrière entre les deux. L’art était simplement le prolongement de la vie. Et rien n’était grave, parce que tout était grave. Je me souviens de lui parlant des artistes. Il ne les défendait pas. Ils faisaient partie de lui. Une famille. Je me souviens de cette dernière soirée passée ensemble, il y a quelques années. Tous les autres convives étaient partis. Nous étions tous les trois (Émilie était avec nous), plongés dans une discussion qui parlait d’engagement, d’éthique. Nous avions bu, ri. J’entends encore son rire. Je vois encore son visage d’éternel adolescent. Il me manque. Il va nous manquer à tous

A picture taken from my phone of Emilie and Henri, the digital time stamp encrypted on the image reads “Nov 9, 2019 Theatre du Palais-Royal Edmund”. Another image of Henri just about to enter the metro also reads similarly but two years prior. When I heard of Henri’s passing, what I immediately found myself doing was going through the pictures on my phone to find and look at the last time we had seen each other. I went through the images and found a photograph of a

table we shared over dinner with Emilie and one of his many close friends. The image is focused but off centre, there’s a wooden table, four simple paper placemats, a basket of bread, a plate of pate, some soon to be used wine glasses and Henri’s hands holding the menu. Of the four years of knowing each other, I realised we had actually only spent two evenings together in person.

Despite this, for the moments that we shared, it was impossible not to feel instantly protected, loved and cared for. Henri would bring you into his world and make you feel a comfort of belonging only comparable to family. I’ve realised that I’ve met Henri many times without him ever being present. I’ve met him through his partner Emilie whenever she visited Japan, through chance encounters with mutual friends, through conversations about underground clubs in Kyoto, to falling in love with works of art online, in a book or at a fair only later to discover Afronova’s involvement. I’ve met Henri even before having known him at all. His passion for life, for art for people radiated outwards without limits to time or place. To have known Henri was to experience a true friendship, that ensured that no matter when or where you would next meet, you’d know you’d end up together, sharing a table with Emilie, maybe with friend, maybe with a basket of bread and some soon to be used wine glasses.

Henri was a really wonderful and vibrant spirit, and while I did not spend much time in his company, the few moments that I shared with him are moments that I think fondly back on. Like the first time I met him. I was an assistant for the Joburg art fair in 2010 and the night before the opening we were all still setting up. Henri was still working, and had planned to work late, but at some point someone started packing up to rush people out and his toolbox went missing, I don’t remember if it was actually stolen or someone « borrowed » or moved it, but it was my very first interaction with him. he was furious and stressed out, but the next day he laughed so hard about it, that’s what I remember the most. his laugh. He was so warm and welcoming. I also remember how generous he was with my fine arts students when afronova was still in braamfontein and we used the space for an auction, it was wonderful. I know the pain will take a long time to pass, as is the case with beautiful people, but I hope that in time you find a way to hold that pain and loss close to you. with much love and sadness

On se connaissait peu mais voilà Henri fait partie de ces très rares personnes qui, dès la première rencontre, fait que vous avez l’impression de le connaitre depuis toujours, un ami, un membre de la famille, de ces familles que l’on se crée tout au long de sa vie. Une drôlerie affectueuse, chose rare et spontanée, faite de mimique, pantomime… où les gestes, l’expression du corps remplace la parole pour nous dire ce qui est indispensable : la vie, cette vie faite de petits riens tendres et essentiels. Grace à toi de belles rencontres, Thokozani Mthiyane, Samson Mnisi, Wayne Barker et Steve Cohen, ces deux derniers qui me semblent résumer une partie de ce que je connaissais de toi, une hypersensibilité, une folie irradiante et un humour synonyme d’amour. A bientôt, Hervé

Tu m’as fait vivre l’un de mes plus grands moments artistiques, Steven Cohen, en 2002 au Centre d’Art Contemporain de Basse-Normandie, descendant les marches de la grande salle du CDN, vêtu de son chandelier et en équilibre précaire sur des cornes d’antilope, pour rejoindre la grande scène sur l’écran de laquelle nous projetions cette fameuse vidéo « Chandelier » performée en 2001 dans un des townships de Johannesburg. Merci pour cet instant d’humanité inoubliable !

Henri was a visionary who had a profound respect and sensitivity towards every humanbeing. What began as a professional relationship soon turned into a long-lasting friendship. His last words for me-which I will treasure-did not come directly from him but through his life partner, Emilie. “He loved you”, she said. And I loved him too. You will always be in my heart Henri.

Le monde de l’art contemporain africain pleure le galeriste Henri Vergon

HOMMAGE. Installé en Afrique du Sud, où il avait fondé la galerie Afronova, Henri Vergon avait fait émerger plusieurs générations d’artistes africains.

La disparition du Belge Henri Vergon, 51 ans, fondateur de la galerie Afronova, basée à Johannesburg, a bouleversé le monde de l’art contemporain africain. Avec sa compagne Emilie Demon, il avait développé depuis près de 15 ans une galerie innovante avec certains des artistes les plus progressistes et influents du pays. Ainsi, au fil des années et avec succès, Afronova a présenté l’Afrique du Sud au reste du continent et amené l’Afrique et la diaspora dans la capitale économique sud-africaine.

Après un diplôme de l’EDHEC, école de commerce bien connue, un détour aux États-Unis à la fin des années 1980 et quelques années de travail dans le milieu culturel en France, Henri Vergon pose ses valises en Afrique du Sud, au lendemain de la mise au rencart de l’apartheid. Arrivé à Johannesburg pour occuper un poste d’agent culturel à l’Institut français d’Afrique du Sud (IFAS) en 1995, il finit par s’installer définitivement. Le pays est en pleine effervescence intellectuelle et artistique. La période est propice au questionnement, à la recherche artistique, tout est en devenir. C’est alors qu’il plonge avec passion dans la bouillonnante scène artistique sud-africaine.

Le tournant : la galerie Afronova

« Après des années de création de festivals, de projets urbains et d’expositions undergrounds, Henri Vergon lance, en 2005, Afronova Gallery, dans le quartier de Newtown, le cœur et l’âme de la lutte artistique des années 70 à 90, en face du légendaire Market Theatre », relate le site de la galerie. Il définit alors Afronova comme « une plateforme polyphonique pour les expressions contemporaines africaines ».

« Lancée avec 30 000 rands (moins de 1 700 euros) et beaucoup de chutzpah (audace), Afronova a tenu ses promesses, accueillant très tôt des expositions personnelles notamment du photographe malien Malick Sidibé, de l’artiste camerounais Joël Mpah Dooh et du peintre haïtien Mario Benjamin », révèle le magazine sud-africain Art Times. À côté d’expositions d’artistes reconnus comme Gera Mawi Mazgabu (Éthiopie, 2005), Ricardo Rangel (Mozambique, 2008) ou Gerard Sekoto (Afrique du Sud, 2008), la galerie a aussi su découvrir et mettre en avant de jeunes talents, aujourd’hui artistes reconnus comme Billie Zangewa (Malawi), Zinkpé (Bénin) ou Mauro Pinto (Mozambique).

Avec Emilie Demon, un duo punchy

Henri Vergon a transformé son projet de départ pour faire d’Afronova une galerie panafricaine d’art moderne et contemporain tournée vers plusieurs marchés.

Avec sa compagne Emilie Demon, ils vont unir leurs sensibilités artistiques et devenir des partenaires d’affaires complémentaires. Autour des artistes qu’ils représentent, ils gèrent un modèle commercial transparent au profit de l’artiste. « Ensemble, ils ont décidé de s’engager sur un nombre limité d’artistes, avec une relation et une compréhension étroites plutôt que de courir après la nouvelle sensation. Les artistes ne sont pas des marchandises et l’interaction personnelle est le moteur du processus », explique le site Afronova.

La relation avec l’artiste est au cœur de leur métier, ou du moins la manière dont ils le vivent. Avec la pandémie du Covid-19 et le confinement, « le plus frustrant est d’être privé du contact physique régulier et de la proximité avec les artistes, car c’est cela qui nous fait vivre et nous épanouir », expliquait fin mars Emilie Demon.

Une pluie d’hommages 

Au sein de la Foire 1-54 qui expose en ligne sur Artsy l’édition qui devait se dérouler à New York, la triste nouvelle en a secoué plus d’un, et ce, d’autant que la galerie Afronova y est présente à travers des œuvres, des photographies, des peintures et des sculptures de six artistes qu’Henri Vergon et Emilie Demon avaient rigoureusement sélectionnés. « Henri était plus qu’un remarquable gestionnaire de galerie. Il avait un œil exceptionnel pour les talents qu’il a présentés au fil des ans lors des foires de 1-54 à Londres, à New York et à Marrakech. Il était un véritable ami de l’équipe 1-54. Il nous a fait rire dans toutes les situations, tellement passionné par les artistes avec lesquels il a travaillé, attentif à nous tous. Nous avons perdu un immense ami et partenaire, et nous réalisons à quel point nous sommes chanceux d’avoir partagé son voyage pendant tant d’années », signe dans un tweet l’organisation 1-54.

« Avec Henri, nous avons découvert des artistes majeurs de la scène sud-africaine comme Mary Sibandé, Lawrence Lemaoana, Billy Zamgewa, Wayne Barker puis, au fil de nos rencontres, les travaux d’Alice Mann, de Senzeni Marasela et tant d’autres », se rappellent les collectionneurs Gervanne et Matthias Leridon. « Henri, tel un conteur, savait comme personne embarquer ses interlocuteurs sur les traces des œuvres qu’il présentait, et plus d’une fois, il a su par ses récits et ses explications nous montrer le magnétisme profond de certaines œuvres qui n’avaient pas su nous attirer au premier regard. Henri travaillait avec des artistes visuels, mais tel un véritable griot, il était le narrateur de leur création », poursuivent-ils.

« J’étais séduit par son professionnalisme et la relation de confiance qu’il suscitait auprès des artistes. […] Henri a été un des premiers à exposer à Johannesburg des artistes contemporains du continent, pour la plupart encore peu connus des professionnels et des collectionneurs nationaux et internationaux », écrit Jean-Michel Champault, directeur artistique de la Collection Gervanne et Matthias Leridon et ancien directeur du Centre culturel franco-mozambicain.

De nombreux témoignages insistent sur l’engagement, l’énergie, l’humour et la gentillesse de l’homme, comme le photographe sud-africain Leon Krige qui évoque « sa formidable énergie et le grand vide qu’il laisse ». « Henri était remarquable dans la façon dont il s’occupait des artistes, il avait un œil merveilleux et a toujours été un collègue bienveillant et amusant », rappelle Emma Menell fondatrice de Tyburn Gallery.

Michael Huard, directeur de création associé et photographe de Saywho, rend hommage à un garçon « formidable et visionnaire ». « C’est une manière d’être dans le monde de l’art qui, pour Henri et sa partenaire de longue date, Emilie Demon, a permis à Afronova de représenter ses artistes dans des foires décalées et de placer leurs œuvres dans des collections de référence, dont la Walther Collection et dans la collection consacrée à l’art contemporain africain de Jean Pigozzi », analyse Art Times. Henri manquera au monde de l’art contemporain. Non seulement il avait ce talent de découvrir des artistes, mais ils les accompagnaient aussi dans leur carrière.

It’s a sad thing to realise that people we take for granted can disappear abruptly and that there is no time anymore to talk and have fun with them. The last time I saw Henri-with Emilie-was surprisingly at place Saint Sulpice in Paris as they were sitting at le cafe de la Mairie with friends. I was with my husband and we had to go somewhere but I remember feeling that I was missing something and that I would have really liked to join them , having fun and talking art world gossips. This is because Henri was obviously kind, upbeat and passionate about the job. And spontaneous which is so nice and so rare. And fun to be with. I like how he would convey his enthusiasm when sales were doing well at at the AfroNova stand at a 1-54 Artfair, saying boyish things such as: “ Alors la, on a cartonné!”. Like a lot of us in our field Henri had not lived in his birth country for a long time and his expressions were those of the 1980s; like mine.I t is beyond early to disappear like that, and we are all shocked, and very sad. Henri had also this great eye and cared about the artists he and Emilie are working with. Emilie, I am so sorry for your loss. I wish you a lot of fortitude and please do connect. As we see, we should take more time to talk and share and have fun. Lots of love.

J’ai rencontré Henri un soir d’été sur une terrasse de la 7ème rue de Melville, à Johannesburg. C’était en 2009. Dès cette première rencontre il m’a semblé vif, enthousiasteet passionné. Son rire était surgissant ! Et cette énergie folle accompagnait un avis bien tranché sur ceux qu’ils nommaient alors les requins de l’art! Au fil des ans, nous sommes devenues très proches avec Emilie, sa compagne. Il m’arrivaittrès souvent de passer la soirée chez eux, à Parkhurst. Je me suis très vite sentie bien en ce lieu. Hiver comme été, nous passions de longues heures sur la terrasse, à discuter, rire et ripailler. Leur couple si unique et passionné ne cessait de m’étonner. Quand je repense à ces moments, c’est le sourire malicieux d’Henri qui me revient immédiatement à l’esprit. Il avait cette part enfantine forte, cet air si filou et espiègle ! Parfois il regardait ailleurs, on sentait qu’il en tenait une bonne, de blague… Il se contenait, pour quelques secondes, puis il explosait gaiement ! Nous avons tous trois partagé de bonnes victuailles. Le sukiyaki d’Emilie dégusté sur cette table un soir d’hiver reste un de mes meilleurs souvenirs culinaires à ce jour. Il y avait aussi ces conversations profondes, son large savoir sur l’histoire et la politique du pays. J’ai tellement appris à ses côtés. Le débat d’idées était riche et je dois dire extrêmement respectueux. C’est à dire que l’idée, l’échange primaient. Dans son esprit critique résidait une forme de liberté rare. C’est drôle, j’ai aussi repensé à la tendresse qu’íl manifestait à leur chat, Marilou. Son regard changeait lorsqu’il s’en approchait. Il était hors de question de se moquer de la petite protégée. Combien de fois ai-je tenté la taquinerie pour le provoquer… Fin 2013 nous avons quitté Johannesburg. Nous nous sommes moins vus, mais nous avons alors eu la chance de passer un moment à Paris, puis Londres. Henri sur le stand de la foire1-54, c’était quelque chose… Il fallait voir le regard des gens… Vieux et jeunes confondus, enfants inclus, tous semblaient captivés par ce galeriste emporté par une passion intrinsèque pour la création, la prise de position et l’anecdote artistique !La dernière fois, que nous sommes vus, c’était en septembre, à Johannesburg. Tu m’as redit à quel point l’amitié que nous nous portons avec Emilie comptait. Aujourd’hui je me dis que tu aurais voulu qu’à ma manière je veille sur elle. Je le ferai, quoi qu’il advienne. Pour elle, et pour toi. Quelle joie, quel privilège ce fut de t’avoir connu. Merci pour tout

Version française

Henri

On s’est rencontré pour la 1ere fois á Johannebourg en mars 2002. On s’était vus une dernière fois en mars 2020 á Paris. Beaucoup de passions et d’enthousiasme constamment partagés au cours de ces années. Passion pour l’art et les artistes, l’Afrique du Sud, il en a fait son métier. Aussi un enthousiasme illimité á passer avec les amis á discuter, raconter, partager, rencontrer, et il en avait fait un mode de vie. Henri était et restera contagieux pour ça. Combien de fois on s’est retrouvés á Johannesburg, Londres, Marrakech, Paris, á l’occasion de divers événements – on devait d’ailleurs se retrouver á New York en mai pour l’exposition 1:54 – ou tout simplement chez eux avec Emilie á Parkhurst, á la ferme familiale de ma fiancée Ramona dans le Magaliesburg, au désormais mythique Gramadoelas en face de la galerie á Newton, l’incontournable Troyeville hotel, dans quelque bar á huitres de Paris ou « notre gastropub anglais du cœur de Londres ». Tellement contagieux que je me souviens avoir fait l’aller-retour Paris – Johannesburg juste le temps d’un weekend pour un vernissage á Afronova á Newton. Inoubliable. Ce genre de personne que l’on adore suivre pour ses passions et son enthousiasme. Ses implications et son dévouement, et simplement pour les bons moments. Tout comme tous ces instants forts partagés.

Une formidable contagiosité, et qui restera, c’est sur. C’est une évidence

English version

Henri.

We first met in Johannesburg, that was in March 2002. We last met in Paris in March 2020 in Paris. A lot of passions and enthusiasm shared throughout all these years. Passion for art and artists, and South Africa obviously. Also an infinite enthusiasm shared with friends, chatting, telling, meeting, and he made it his way of life. Henri was and will remain contagious for that. We met numerous times in Johannesburg, London, Marrakesh, Paris, for various events – we were due to meet in New York in May for the 1:54 art fair – or just at their home with Emilie in Parkhurst, at my fiancée Ramona’s family farm in Magaliesburg, at the at the now legendary Gramadoelas opposite the gallery in Newton, the essential Troyeville hotel, in some oyster bar in Paris or « our” gastropub in London. So contagious that I remember flying Paris – Johannesburg over a weekend for an opening at Afronova in Newton. Unforgettable. The kind of person you could follow happily because of his passion and enthusiasm. His involvement, dedication, and simply to have fun and spend great, lekker times. Just like all these intense moments shared.

A wonderful contagiousness, that will remain, it is for sure. It is obvious.

Henri was one of the brightest lights in the contemporary art world, a pioneer, and a great pleasure to be with always. His energy and commitment to his artists and the gallery, and to life, were truly amazing. I always looked forward to opportunities to meet with him. Hisgenerosity, deep knowledge and love of life will be greatly missed. A bright light has gone out.

I keep wondering, Henri, why you left us so abruptly. And much too soon. Oh, you know very well that we had so many, many things yet to do, to see, to enjoy, to share, and to create. You, who cared so deeply about Africa, about art, about people. You,who inspired others to act! You, too, must have been wondering the same thing: How did this happen to me so suddenly, when I was so busy, and Emilie and I had so many plans for Afronova? Surely there’s a mistake.And then I see Henri shrug his shoulders quickly several times, cock his head, flash his boyish grin, and look boldly forward. Never mind, it’s the future that’s calling, and it must be built! Henri was not someone who let things go. He was always on the front line, ever ready to engage and move forward. With Henri, you knew that boundaries were there to be crossed. He was an independent thinker, and he loved audacious, creative individuals who had something important to express and share. He felt an irrepressible urge to celebrate artists inevery way possible and wherever he went in the world. His enthusiasm was infectious, and his hug was always warm and sincere. Henri cared about people and loved working with others. He was always seeking out and nurturing dialogue with artists, and especially the numerous emerging artists he and Emilie dedicated all their energy to at Afronova. He helped them pursue greater depth in their work,to place it in a global context, and to bring out what is often elusive in the journey of the artists he cherished and believed in. Henri was about laughter and good times too; about being happy and making others happy. The Joy of Life was always on the agenda. Maybe hesomehow knew time was limited and thus was always savoring the Here and Now. I think of Henri’s boundless energy and unswerving commitment to artists and the contemporary African art. I think of his intensity in speaking out for social justice and communicating the importance of South Africa’s heritage as a driver in the artistic landscapeof urban Africa today, which he saw so clearly in Joburg, his chosen home for over 20 years. I also think of how he would tirelessly answer my innumerable questions, not the least bit impatient with my persistent and often naive questions about a vast world I knew so little about, then and now… but Henri loved people who wanted to learn about contemporary African art, and he placed no limits on giving and helping others understand. He was a natural teacher who, during a chat over a glass of wine, could open doors to discovery and understanding. And he was absolutely delighted when I would tell him about my love of photography and how impressed I was with the extraordinary, talented artists at Afronova that he and Emilie were nurturing in the world of photography and the moving image. When he saw that I had grasped something in the flow of chatter, storytelling, and banter he enjoyed so much, he would turn on a huge « glad you got it » Henri grin. I can see the little mischievous glint in his eye now. Generosity came naturally to Henri, who gave his friendship wholeheartedly and, remarkably,without ever expecting anything in return. And if other people didn’t get it, he knew it was simply not his problem! He lived life on his own terms, and he and Emilie built their own platform and model, which reflected their way of embracing art, celebrating artists, and enjoying life. I also came to realize that Henri had had his share of disappointments over the years and had endured a lack of reciprocity from some people in the commercial art world. Henri was not naive by any means; he just took things in stride. He remained undeterred and determined. He was on a mission, and it took me some time to realize what a discreet but formidable force in the Johannesburg art scene Henri was and to truly appreciate what he and Emilie were aiming to do with Afronova. I remember, for example, visiting the current location of the Market Photo Workshop when I was last in Joburg and walking around thecorner to see the Market Theater. For anyone on the lookout, there were signs that Henri had been there, contributing to the city’s huge cultural revival long before I met him and Emilie and we walked the art fair circuits in South Africa, Europe and New York. Henri was also a Frenchman and completely entier,as the French say: There was only one way to go on the journey he had chosen, and there were no compromises to be made along the way. He was invariably the French gentleman too: always a kind word for the ladies and a loving word for and about his Emilie, his partner both in life and at the heart of Afronova. Strangely enough, when I try to conjure up Henri, I think of him dancing. He would bebop around, usually backwards, giggling and excited to be living his passion for art, artists, friends, Afronova… and Emilie. Last February,I stayed with them in their lovely Parkhurst home in Joburg, which was chock full of artists’ works they love, to spend a few days in Joburg before heading off to Cape Town for Art Week and the CTAF. It was summer in South Africa, and great expectations were in the air. Henri and Emilie were hyper-excited, as we were meeting up at the airport with Phumzile Khanyile and her sweetheart, also an artist, to fly together to Cape Town. Happiness filled the airport gathering, which grew to include Jabulani Dhlamini from Soul & Joy and several of its photographers, all headed to Cape Town on the same flight. But rather than going directly to the city, Henri and Emile decided to invite their Cape Town guests, Phumzile and Nkosinathi,

to a seaside spot outside Cape Town to have a lovely meal, play on the beach, take a dip inthe ocean, and enjoy the beauty of the landscape and the fun of being together. A moment ofbonding with artists they love. It was so typical of the way Henri and Emilie think about their « work » as gallerists. They were always looking for new ways to nourish complicity and mutual respect through personal warmth, all key to nurturing artistic development. A short, touching video kindly shared by Phumzile and Nkosinathi records several moments at the airport and their wonderful beach romp. And I remember Cape Town afterwards: a merry-go-round of events and gallery shows and the Fair, not to mention the great Leridon Art Party, where both Henri and Emilie were always very thoughtful of me and asking, « who could they introduce me to? » so that I would always feel at home in the African art world they thrived in– it was so typical of Henri and Emilie and the spirit of Afronova. A number of years ago, when I first met Emile and then Henri, I remember how each spontaneously reached out in the same way and right from the get-go: « How can I be helpful to you? » And how they followed up with an open invitation to come,look, see, discover, meet, and enjoy good times and great art with them. Each time was wonderful, whether in Paris, London, New York, Joburg, Cape Town, Marrakech…. I remember, too, the last time we met, which was in Paris, at the end of February, at the opening of Nathalie Boutté’s show at André Magnin’s gallery. Of course, a nearby café quickly became a meeting place to talk and dream about the future in Africa with friends and colleagues. And then I remember the following week we went together to catch Jérome Sans on the fly to brainstorm and come up with big ideas for the future and more ways to celebrate contemporary African art. Henri was, of course, totally in his element. His enthusiasm level was supercharged, like Jerome’s. Because Henri was always asking, Why not invent a new world today and in Africa? And »vite, vite!! » à la française. Now, here we are, asking the same question, but for once, Henri is silent. I strain to hear his voice but do feel his presence. That Henri is no longer with us… his loss seems too hard to fully grasp. And yet I know that somehow he will be there for all of us in a different way, as Afronova is a state of mind that will endure.

may the tide

that is entering even now

the lip of our understanding

carry you out

beyond the face of fear

may you kiss

the wind then turn from it

certain that it will

love your back may you

open your eyes to water

water waving forever

and may you in your innocence

sail through this to that

Lucille Clifton Blessing the Boats

I met Henri in the nineties in Cape Town through my good friend Philippe Marring who owned Picto (a photographic laboratory and hub of activity) in Bree Street. Besides knowing him socially, I also visited Johannesburg often in the mid 2000s, prior to opening a gallery, both Henri and Warren Siebrits were defining the art scene in the city at that time. Henri played a major role in introducing African contemporary art to South Africa and was integral in laying a platform for the boom that was to follow. Henri chose to do things on his own terms and did not follow convention as a gallerist. He will be sorely missed by the African art community and he leaves a palpable void in Johannesburg where his presence has become synonomous with the art scene. Henri was genuine, passionate and widely respected. I cannot say that I was a very close friend but over more than twenty years, we shared special moments, great conversations and established a real bond. I wish Emilie all the strength possible in this difficult time and the art community supports her efforts to keep Afronova alive and to build onHenri’s legacy.

He had an important place in my life, because he was the one who introduced me to contemporary African art, and he sold the first work in my collection, a Sandile Zulu in 2006. He also kindly took me on a visit to Sandile’s atelier. His memory will be forever associated with it. Perhaps these lines from the poet T.S. Eliot (from the Four Quartets) can offer some consolation :

‘We die with the dying

See, the depart, and we go with them.

We are born with the dead :

See they return, and bring us with them.

Henri Vergon, we will miss you.

We first met when he worked at Alliance Francaise in Newtown.

We worked across the road in a building approriately named Mad Max. Max was

a tyre dealer, with a fierce reputation.

We were surrounded by the Market theatre, the local pup, which was eventually

Afronova, a trendy resturant , run by Milan & Natasha, Gramadoelas, the

Saturday markets, run by Wolff Weineck.

Henri loved the inner city, and we tried for years to find a building that we could

share together and with other artists. At one point we went to look at The Mills,

we climbed the stairs to the top floor, grey,dusty and inhabited with pigeons,

they scattered as we looked around, Henri was so excited, arms up in air,

imagining a new gallery space.

Unfortunately we were outbid for the building, and I drive past it often, and think

of him on the top floor with a fabulous roof garden and a thriving art scene filling

the space.

Henri had an exhibition for Karl Giettl. Our teenage children came with to the

opening night, one of them asked us to buy a work, he figured that in his whole

life he would never find a work of someone peeing on the beach. Sorry Karl, it

just wasn’t enough for us to buy that work.

Emile was truly the love of his life, He took her to the Johannesburg Art Gallery

for an opening , she had been in Johannesburg only a few days. She dressed up,

put her fancy jewellery on, and headed out in the yellow Beetle with the roof

down. She quietly removed those earrings and continued on to embrace the

town.

He phoned just days before he died, upbeat as always, checking in to see that

everything was okay.

We will remember Henri as brave, kind, present, cheerful and a beautiful person,

Now he is gone and will be missed. Love you Henri .

Henri was a great advocate for art and his love and dedication to the artists AFRONOVA represents was absolute and inspiring. I feel privileged to have met him

Henri was so warm, welcoming and had such an infectious energy that I couldn’t not smile and be happy in his company. He was so incredibly generous to me and the collection and was always willing to introduce me to people. I will forever be grateful for the interactions I had with him. I will fondly remember the afternoon of grapes and wine we had around the pool at your home in Joburg.

With the opening of the Afronova Gallery in 2005 in Newtown a multicultural African Modern and Contemporary Art platform was established in Johannesburg. Henri Vergon’s love for Africa and his sense of purpose formed the basis for establishing a venue where patrons could experience Modern and Contemporary Art. At the onset, exhibitions at Afronova linked South African artists’ contemporary expressions with that of artists from various parts of the African Continent, e.g. notably Malick Sidibé, Gonçalo Mabunda, Joël MpahDooh, and others. It was always an educational experience to attend exhibitions at the Afranova Gallery. Henri’s knowledge regarding African contemporary art and photography attracted many local and overseas collectors to Afronova. He was well respected by Museum Curators and Art Foundations from America, Europe, Japan and the African continent. Afronova’s strength came from Henri’s talent to recognize unique aesthetic qualities within the large mélange of artists. A pinnacle event associated with the Gallery’s achievements was the repatriation to South Africa of multiple drawings by Gerard Sekoto. During 2008 a selection of these drawings was exhibited with an accompanying catalogue at Afronova. Pitchforked between the complexities of protectiveness prevailing in the art business, he surpassed this trying ecosystem with his strong personality and grit. Henri did not suffer fools. More recently, with his partner Emilie Demon, the Gallery’s emphasis shifted to showing Afronova artists at local and international Art Fairs. We fondly remember the dinners after exhibition openings at the well-loved Gramadoelas restaurant in the historical Market Theatre Precinct, opposite his Gallery in Newtown. At these events in the convivial atmosphere, one had the opportunity to meet and socialize with the gallery artists, curators and patrons. Henri was born in Brussels and I find the quote by the well-known Flemish poet Karel Jonc kheere who visited South Africa in the 1940’s and again in the 1960’s, quite appropriate in describing Henri’s generous spirit:

“Wie iets niet kan afstaan heeft het nooit bezeten” (Celui qui ne peut pas donner quelque chose ne l’a jamais possédé). As a surprise, Henri once presented us with a Gerard Sekoto drawing, a gift that will always be treasured, tied up with many good memories. Henri Vergon served artists and the art community with distinction in his jocular way, though, always professional in managing his art business. Henri and his endeavours will be missed

Henri was a very warm, friendly, easy going and enthusiastic person with lots of

humour. Knowing what we know about life, death and the spirit, I know these are his essence and bigger Self and how great to be remembered for what you really are. For me (and probably most Kwani Experience members) the first time I met him was the first time I ever met a French person, in South Africa. You might wonder why I’m mentioning this but it’s worth mentioning because it gives a glimpse into South Africa and how the country is set up and how it plays out demographically and maybe geopolitically. A topic for another day. I met Henri in 2004/5 through Institut Francais and most likely through Peggy Boucon. It was during the Playtime Festival that Henri founded, which Kwani Experience was billed for to perform. He was part of the Newtown Cultural Precinct community through AfroNova Gallery, which took over the space where the legendary Couch & Coffee used to be opposite the Market Theatre. The dude was a big fan or Kwani Experience and a regular feature at our shows. He was a lover of music and art without a doubt. Love and strength to our sister Emilie, Henri’s family and everyone whose lives he touched. May they be guided through this new relationship they now have with their beloved.

Henri, enjoué, à l’écoute, fidèle, sentait les êtres et les situations, immédiatement et sans jugement. Gourmand voisin de foire à Londres comme à New York, il a été là à Brooklyn lorsqu’on m’a appelé de Genève pour m’annoncer l’horrible vérité qui m’a laissé comme un automate pour vivre l’ouverture de la foire. Henri savait lire sous mon masque sans être envahissant et il a réussi le premier à me faire parler,à faire sortir en paroles toutes ces émotions contenues d’une situation que je n’arrivais pas à accepter. Au revoir l’artiste, c’est à nous aujourd’hui de prendre le relai et d’être là pour Emilie

I always looked forward to seeing and catching up with Henri Vergon at the 1-54 African contemporary art fair whether it was in London, or New York. His big welcoming smile,cheerful personality and dynamism was such a booster as was his unfaltering enthusiasm for the African artists he showed and worked with. For both of us our native language was French so we connected instantly and we would never miss an opportunity to joke and laughin our native tongue while also discussing the new work on display in his booth which unfailingly offered something new: fresh perspectives, diversity of expressions and mix of mediums. I particularly liked that Henri and his partner Emilie worked with many talented women artists such as Billie Zangewa, Senzeni Marasela, Lebohang Kganye, Phumzile Khanyile, and Malala Andrialavidrazana whose approaches to their medium of choice-photography and textile-are truly innovative. Henri’s commitment to his artists was professional but also personal in the good sense of the word because he was that kind of guy. It was for the long run. He believed in you, he worked with you. That is why when I heard he had passed away so suddenly, I could not believe it. It just did not make any sense. Not a man with his energy, his love of life and creativity, his sense of humor, his humility! Yet, he did and I will miss him and will remember him always with a big smile.

Henri was very French in his values , upbringing and manners. He had a huge sense of humanity and was also a gentleman of international envergure and scope. I met Henri and Emilie a Sunday evening late while unhanging our respective booths at 1-54 at Somerset House in London. We became immediately friends and it was one of the pleasures of the 1-54 fairs to meet theAfronova team on the fair grounds. I was always impressed by their talent in choosing lighter freight to exhibit such as photographies and textiles when we needed trucks and planes. Henri was generous of his time and friendship. He taught me to understand better textiles and photography. He also introduced me to important artistic talents with which I am now in professional contact. He will be missed because he was sincere, talented and always available. Like everyone who knew him I enjoyed his generosity and sincerity . I am under shock as we spoke last week and laughed together. Discrete but efficient, loving and attentive, Emilie was at his side shaping their business, life and affection. De tout cœur avec toi

I have experienced Henri Vergon to be a warrior of the spirit and a rebel with(out) a cause. His joyful energy could only be matched by a deep compassion and care for those with whom he connected and worked. In his work at Afronova, I saw Henri as an agent of change, challenging the status quo of the gallery system in his promotion of young talent. His unique skill-set included the capacity to accept conditions as they are while fearlessly and creatively imagining how things could be. I have great admiration for Henri’s soft hand that held and supported many young artists in the process of becoming. A quiet water approach that was allowing and attentive in its nature.I was fortunate, in many cases, to be a part of this process of exposure and formation, as part of Lightfarm, our grade and print studio, and be touched by his unseen hand. He was dynamic in exposing artists to the global art market and supported their growing readership and acceptance within this market. And all that with deep authentic care and clear ethics that constantly placed the artist in the centre of this transaction. I miss him already.

We remember Henri having so much energy, enthusiasm and humour at art fairs. He always looked so relaxed, and I used to wonder how he did it with such grace!He will be missed.

A “Supa Cool” Guy-

HenriI only ever said “Supa Cool” when I was with Henri, I liked how he always said-“Supa Cool” this, “Supa Cool” that, “Supa Cool” chat later, “SupaCool” see you later- He really was a“Supa Cool” Guy. A “Supa Cool” guy, with a “Supa Cool” heart, with a “Supa Cool” warmth, with a “Supa Cool” Spirit, “Supa Cool” giggles, “Supa Cool” cheeky smile, “Supa Cool” with my kids, a “SupaCool” neighbour. He LIVED and EMBRACED Being Supa Cool.“Supa Cool”……..“Supa Cool”……..“Supa Cool”……..“Supa Cool”……..“SupaCool”……..Henri!!!!!!! Lala ngoXolo Rest in “Supa Cool” Henri …………Bless

Je ne te connaissais pas beaucoup ni Henri mais je ne vous ai pas oubliés!
Stephanie de Rouge et Agnès Matta nous avaient connectés il y a 2 ans à Brooklyn alors que nous exposions chacun dans une des foires New-yorkaises de l’époque !
On s’était bien marré sur The Barge, le regard plus très droit sur Manhattan, j’engloutissais avec ferveur les anecdotes émouvantes de votre vie de papa et maman poule, au même rythme que les cocktails, jusqu’au moment où il fallait bien rentrer (droit si possible) !
Vous avez, il me semble, créer une grande famille, non pas d’enfants mais de grands artistes, reconnus par les grandes institutions !
Grâce à votre simplicité, votre écoute, votre bienveillance, votre accueil, vous avez su créer une institution hors du commun et offert une chance estimable à tous vos artistes.
Emilie, je souhaite que cette famille te rende tout le soutien qu’Henri et toi méritent.

I write these few words with a heavy heart but with smile of recognition and pleasure in remembering him ! The earliest moments of this were during the Newtown years in the old Fuba building and at thetime of the first Johannesburg Biennale, when a talll anky young man with a beguiling French accent and an impeccable courteous manner, introduced himself as a new cultural officer at the French Institute. From this followed an ongoing collaboration on a variety of projects over a number of years always conducted with enthusiasm and passion. That passion particularly extended to African contemporary art which he embraces with great energy and vision and which ultimately extended to the opening of the Afronova Gallery,a visionary and innovative success

Our recent meeting at the Javett Art Centre and discussion to rekindle this friendship and partnership was a deja vu moment which offered the possibility of igniting new and exciting projects with the artist at the centre, which was always Henri’s focus. His extensive contribution our appreciation and understanding of the Art of Africa is reflective of Henri’sparticular signature and affable nature which I for one will greatly miss!

Je me souviens quand Henri a ouvert sa première galerie en face du Market Theatre à Newton.

Il avait quitté la sécurité d’un emploi à l’Ambassade de France où il s’ennuyait, pour se lancer tout seul et sans moyens financiers dans un métier extrêmement difficile, contrôlé à l’époque par deux ou trois grandes galeries sud-africaines. Il avait trouvé le moyen en outre d’installer sa galerie dans un quartier réputé “chaud”, éloigné de ses acheteurs potentiels …

Bref je me disais qu’Henri était complètement fou, mais j’étais fasciné par son enthousiasme et l’excitation qu’il avait à présenter des oeuvres d’artistes africains inconnus en Afrique du Sud. On aurait dit que plus l’entreprise était difficile, plus les challenges étaient ardus et plus il aimait ça! Mais il a eu raison. Après bien des difficultés et sa rencontre avec Emilie il a trouvé sa voie et ils sont devenus tous les deux les acteurs importants de l’art contemporain Africain que l’on sait.

Je le voyais passer à toute vitesse dans sa vieille VW coccinelle jaune décapotable à Greenside où j’allais déjeuner avec Françoise. Et puis la coccinelle jaune a un jour disparue et je retrouvais mon Henri faire son jogging et s’arrêter à la terrasse du restaurant et nous raconter, en transpirant les derniers potins dans le monde de l’art contemporain, ses succès et ses projets.

C’était un homme fascinant avec une énergie incroyable qui laisse derrière lui un grand vide.

Aujourd’hui quand j’entends dans les rues de Johannesburg le moteur d’une VW coccinelle en sur-régime, je me retourne et je cherche Henri! »

It is difficult to believe that Henri is no longer with us – the thought that when we start frequenting galleries and art fairs again his charming smile with that mischievous glint in the eye will not pop up amongst the crowds and that his irrepressible laugh will not be heard, is unimaginable. His joie de vivre was infectious, so all the more reason for us to feel bereft in the void his unexpected and untimely passing has left us.
I got to know Henri in 1995 at the time of the establishment of IFAS in Johannesburg where he had been appointed Cultural Officer. As Head of the Arts and Culture Sponsorships portfolio at Standard Bank our professional paths soon crossed and led to many future collaborations especially at the National Arts Festival in Grahamstown followed by two of the first major collaborative international exhibitions from France hosted at the Standard Bank Gallery in association with the French Embassy and IFAS, first Chagall in 2000 and then Miro in 2002.
I think back to a laughter filled weekend shortly after the Chagall opening when Henri and his good friend David Levy, who had also been instrumental in making the exhibition possible, joined my husband and I at our bush cottage near the Kruger Park. Henri had worked so hard in preparation of the exhibition opening that he had lost all appetite but it must have been the ambience in the bush sitting round an open fire that restored his love of food and he literally demolished a huge filet all by himself. We were close neighbours in Parkhurst and it was always such fun to see him go whizzing past in his bright yellow Beetle ‘convertible’! Likewise, I will also never forget opening the door to a distraught Henri in tears the day after my husband, Alan (Joseph) suddenly passed away in 2003.
He was a friend, a colleague, a supporter. He was fun, he had boundless energy, and he was dedicated to art and the artists he represented. It was a delight the day Emilie appeared on the scene – they were truly the perfect couple. And now my heart breaks for her and the long road ahead without her lifelong partner.
From the time Henri established Afronova in 2005 his discerning eye for discovering new contemporary talent from the African continent became evident. Sadly his contribution towards the development and promotion of young local talent was never given the due recognition it deserved in his adoptive country. The contemporary African art world has indeed lost a passionate campaigner.
Repose en paix, cher ami.

To Henri

Eversince i was a child i chose my friends  with care,my parents say i was a nerd because i would turn other kids from our gate as i did not and refused to associate with them. I studied my friends just as i studied you and you me 

For you wrote in my little passport carnet of my work by editions loeil that i was a girl who played with white dolls growing up and oh it was so true but what you do not know my past time was to study people and i did play with some white people too in my adult life resulting in the project Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and most of my portraiture work

You were one of those people i watched in detail and i knew you will be my friend wether you liked it or not. And so it came to pass…  i saw you barefeet firmly on the ground on the way to work at IFAS driving a yellow beettle i knew then you were a grounded person and that resonated with me .

I seeked you out and asked for your art hand in marriage and it will culminate to so many collaborations but the most important one was a direction via Japan and France (see the photograph attached here so full of life and taking it by the horns)

I became more curious and needed to know where you came from and it led to me living in france indirectly from you

From 2002-2019 we worked together not once do i remember arguing with you over the way i work or money.We both respected eachother and i am saddened greatly by your passing but you came our way left us a spark of yourself and that i will guard with all my might.

Thank you for coming my way, for being my friend more than my gallerist

For instilling a great thirst and taste of unparralled art and photography and films

May you rest in eternal peace!

To Emily,the Afronova family may the journey continue on and with Henri’s inspiration forward march on

LOVE LOLO air kisses to you/bises

Henri, mon frère. Mon petit frère. Mon complice de bien des situations.

Tu as pris le large, par surprise, bien avant l’heure, bien avant moi, bien avant nous.

Tes petits éclats de rire qui virent dans les aigus, l’improvisation de quelques pas de danse qui s’achèvent par un sourire éclatant et deux bras écartés qui signifient à la fois « et voilà » et « on s’aime ». Je vais les garder précieusement en moi, comme les dizaines d’instants volés qui ont marqué notre relation au cours de ce demi-siècle.

Tu savais dire « je t’aime », et tu n’étais pas avare de ces petits gestes gratuits qui accompagnent ces paroles prononcées avec une sincérité désarmante. Tous ici pouvons témoigner de ton grand cœur. Ce cœur, tellement sollicité, ce cœur qui t’as amené à tant de sacrifices au profit de tes proches, celui-là même qui a fini par décider que c’était l’heure de partir.

Ce cœur plein d’amour, plein d’attentions, qui nous a tous conquis. Et je pense à Emilie, mon amie, ma sœur, à la place spéciale qui lui était justement réservée au sein de ce cœur. Et je te promets qu’on prendra bien soin d’elle. Je t’embrasse très fort Emilie.

Les deux personnes les plus importantes pour Henri qui sont sa compagne Emilie et sa Maman, on va les soutenir dans cette épreuve. Mais ce chagrin qui nous étreint aujourd’hui, famille et amis, je voudrais qu’on le dépasse et qu’on se souvienne tous de ces moments spéciaux, ces sortes de coups de génie que seul Henri était capable de provoquer, ces situations irrésistibles qui en ce moment, j’en suis certain, vous reviennent immédiatement à l’esprit.

L’élégance, l’à-propos, l’humour décalé, la tendresse, il arrivait toujours à enrober de tout cela ses moindres gestes. Le swag, ça ne se dit peut-être plus, mais ça lui va bien.

Mon Henri, tu vivras toujours en moi, tu seras désormais loin, comme en voyage. Je ne veux pas te pleurer, seulement garder la mémoire de tous ces beaux moments que tu m’as offert. Alors bon voyage. Bon voyage, mon frère.

Henri was a valued client our ours since 2003, and we consider ourselves honoured to have known such a nice man.

We will remember him fondly, and will miss his monthly visits to our offices. I don’t know if you were aware of the fact that he used to walk to us to deliver his business accounts every month! Come rain, cold or shine, he used to arrive out of breath and full of smiles telling our receptionist in his beautiful French accent how hard it was to try and stay fit. He was here at our office on the Monday before he passed away so suddenly. Our lockdown regulations had just been eased to extend exercising times and he was one of the first to take advantage and deliver his accounts in person. Our receptionist asked him how business was going during these difficult times, and he laughingly answered: “Oh, not too bad! You know, some people are complaining about this COVID-19 and not having any work, and others are buying art!” We all laughed out loud! He left us with smiles on our faces, and we will always remember him for that.
We thank him for all the wonderful people we met through him and hope that they will carry on his legacy here in Joburg, South Africa.

Henri was gregarious, big hearted and funny. I think I met Emilie at Alliance Francaise one night. We got to talking because I had a hip flaskof whisky. Shortly thereafter I met Henri at Afronova when the gallery was at the Market Theatre. My friend Helen was exhibiting her paintings. In due course we all became fast friends. Henri’s great sociability meant all my friends enjoyed him immensely. He was a man with enormous zest. An early memory was at Alliance when Emilie showed Last Tango in Paris. He came and sat at a table in the garden with me and my wife. I felt especially honored. I remember a surprise birthday party for Henri in Kliptown, Soweto. Fantastic. They were days and nights of endless parties. Henri and Emilie were great party guests and great party hosts. Heady days!I remember him with great warmth. It was a privilege. In memoriam,

Version française

Immense tristesse d’apprendre le décès d’Henri Vergon. J’ai apprécié le soutien de Emilie et Henri à Johannesburg lors de ma résidence en Afrique du Sud en juin 2019. Il m’a aidé avec Emilie Démon à naviguer Joburg. Sa bonne volonté, sa générosité, ses conseils, son rire de bon-vivant resteront à jamais graver dans mon coeur. Toutes mes sincères condoléances à sa famille et à Emilie.

Nous avons perdus un être cher dans notre communauté artistique d’Afrique avec qui il était ami.

Repose en Paix cher Henri, Je pense très fort à toi Emilie, Courage et Soutien de tout mon coeur.

English version

It is a huge sadness to learn of the passing of Henri Vergon. I appreciate the support of Emilie and Henri in Johannesburg during my residency in South Africa in June 2019. He helped me with Emilie to navigate Joburg. His good will, his generosity, his advice, his good-natured laugh will forever remain engraved in my heart. All my sincere condolences to his family and to Emilie.

We have lost a loved one in our artistic community in Africa with whom he was friend.

Rest in Peace dear Henri, Dear Emilie, Courage and Support with all my heart.