This piece is truly extraordinary. It depicts a disproportionately large monkey eating an enormous insect. He seems placid and focused on what he is doing, and apparently oblivious to the small human who is poking the barrel of a gun into his right side. The monkey is depicted in a sitting, relaxed pose, with his forepaws up to his face and his legs flexed. His fur has been rendered as alternately-angled cross-hatching in bands that progress down the body from head to foot. The only areas of bare metal are his stomach, his face and jowls, and his hands/feet, which display a great deal of anatomical detail. This is at odds with the rest of the body, which is highly schematic and un-anatomical. Interestingly, he does not have a tail – unlike the majority of African monkeys – and the stump he does have has been rendered as a (suspension?) loop. The impression he conveys is one of massivity and monolithic power, which is made all the more disarming by his evident pacifism. The accompanying human figure is portrayed as a hunter, although the complexity of his hair and the fact he is carrying a rifle – an asset of some considerable value prior to the 20th century – suggests that he is a person of some social standing. He is dressed in a loincloth, a belt holding a dagger and a powder flask, and a pair of strap sandals. The pieces are joined to one another with a strip of plain metal upon which the monkey sits, and the human stands. Both figures are upward-looking, as if the piece were supposed to be regarded from above.

It is generally unwise to postulate too extensively about meaning in ancient art. However, the historical data for this tribe, and the way the piece has been rendered, makes certain educated guesses appropriate. The highly skilled and naturalistic manner in which the human has been portrayed is strikingly at odds with the somewhat haphazard collection of physical traits that characterise his animal companion. If the sculptor was able to represent the human so accurately, why should the monkey be less so? He would have had plenty of time to observe the subject; monkeys are widespread across the West Coast of Africa, and are used as bush meat even today.

The answer may lie in the position that the Akan people held in pre-colonial times. Their main preoccupation was trade; caravans from across Africa came to them, resulting in wide communication of stylistic and social information. The sculptor seems to have been unfamiliar with the larger of these two figures, and did not know how to represent it. It must have been an important subject; it would seem inappropriate to create enormously expensive gold court art of what was essentially a daily dietary item. We thus believe that the “monkey” is actually a gorilla. They are not native to West Africa, but caravans from areas they were known would have reached the Akan empire on a regular basis. Our Akan sculptor could not possibly have seen a live gorilla – he seems to have thought that they ate insects – but he may have seen products from the animal that were brought to trade. Pelts, heads and hands/feet are all taken by hunters and traded; if he had seen them, this might explain the high detail of the hands/feet. This accounts for the figures’ disparity in size, and why the remainder of the animal is carved with such stylistic boldness but anatomical uncertainty. The human may represent a king, to show his fearlessness or power, and this is probably a sycophantic work in that sense.