Photographer Brent Chua – Fashion Editor Gisela Castells – Talent Chidy Wayne – Interview by Melania Musci
When and how did you first come into contact with creative expression?
I was that classic kid who was always drawing; in class, in my notebooks, at the table. It’s something that’s always been there.
Was there a specific work you created that made you realise you were an artist in your own right?
After 15 years of drawing professionally, in 2017 I conceptualised and created a hand with an ant on its index finger. It was the first time my work carried meaning beyond aesthetics. That’s when everything truly began.
Before embracing your current path, you studied fashion design. Is there anything from that period that still shapes the way you work today?
The looseness and spontaneity in my drawing is inspired by the great fashion illustrators like YSL and René Gruau. I discovered their techniques during my studies and they’ve stayed with me ever since.
In what ways do your Spanish‑Guinean roots influence your visual language and the way you approach your practice?
I embrace both cultures, African and European. I always say that the spontaneity in my strokes comes from Africa, while the rationalism in my compositions comes from Europe.
Your work often delves into identity and inner struggle. How did these subjects become central to your research?
I’ve always been intrigued by the universal questions that accompany the human experience. I feel that questioning our own journey brings us closer to the path of truth.
Where do you feel your practice is heading now? Are there reflections sparked by the contemporary world that you feel compelled to explore?
My work is moving toward a humanist exploration that may eventually lead to deeper conversations. Nothing happening in the contemporary world directly affects my ideas or my practice.
This section of The Greatest is called ‘Handshake’, and hands appear frequently in your work. What draws you to them as a motif?
In my work hands act as meta‑mirrors that reflect our inner being, our core identity.
Alongside painting, you often work with sculpture. Does the physical engagement of sculpting give you something that working on a canvas cannot?
I lose all sense of time when I’m sculpting. To literally transform and create with my bare hands is the most ancestral act we can perform as artists.
How do you navigate moments when you feel disconnected from inspiration or lacking stimulation?
A visit to a good museum is usually enough to ignite my creativity again, if that’s the case.
When you create something new, who is the first person you share it with or seek feedback from?
If I’m unsure about something, I usually show it to my wife. She has great taste, and I trust her eye.