10 Questions With… Multidisciplinary Artist Fiyin Koko

Much of Koko’s oeuvre explores the feminine and features elements that deal with ceramics. She also loves the color blue and uses it in some of her work to evoke deep meanings that fuel her inspiration, while also fueling mysteries she hope viewers could uncover from her art. Interior Design connected with the artist to speak about reviving terra-cotta practices, making works that embody the feminine essence, and her forthcoming works.

Fiyin Koko Embodies The Feminine Essence In Her Azure Work

Interior Design: When did your story as an artist begin?

Fiyin Koko: My art career started in 2020, before the lockdown. Instead of painting, I taught myself digital design using Photoshop. When I tried ceramic art for the first time, it was because I wanted to touch my art. I was just playing around with air-dry clay and it was exciting—not because it was in my blood, but because I liked it. Then, I started figuring out my style. I wanted to feel what it was like to see art. Everything changed when I started working with clay. I became more present than when I was just doing digital art as clay has several processes—you make it, it air dries, fire it, and then you have the clay piece. It’s a really long process, but that just made me more intentional with my practice.

ID: Can you describe your background and your earliest memories of making art?

FK: My mother is an artist. I grew up being in touch with my creativity, and my mother would give us materials to do whatever we wanted. I’ve always been that gifted kid but I think for me, it’s just something I couldn’t shy away from. While I attended the University of North Carolina, I studied international relations and environmental science, but I was still painting on the side for my friends and for other people. And then I moved back to Lagos. I worked in the natural environment for a while but I was still painting and drawing every day. At some point, I just told myself that I might as well just do it professionally because it was my passion. I quit my job in January 2020, and said: Okay, let me try this thing. Because I worked in marketing, they told me to come back if I wasn’t feeling it. That same year, I had my first exhibition and I was like: Wow, this is what I want to do in my life.

ID: Why were you most interested in making works in micro-scale, as opposed to large-scale? Was that a problem of portability?

FK: I want to [work in large-scale], but I’m just afraid because playing with clay is so brutal and so fragile. I think what I have planned in my head is that I’ll work with a different material later on, maybe with fiberglass or even wood or something that I won’t be so scared to look big, essentially.

ID: Ever since you began ceramics as a practice, have you exhibited your works?

FK: I’ve done a couple of exhibitions with clay. I want to say it happened very fast. When I started working with clay, many people were just like, ‘Oh, you do clay?’ and then I received more invitations to do exhibitions. I’ve done about seven exhibitions since I started working with clay. I did a solo exhibition in December 2023 at Yenwa Gallery in Lagos that had a whole ceramic aspect as well, which was very good. I think I almost sold out every ceramic piece. The project was called “Water Me” and it was a story about love and support and how my journey started into art. I wanted to create vessels that could house water or light. People know that I work with blue because blue is my foundation.

The whole ceramic section was totally about plants. I wanted the vest that I created to stand out so I used the expand plate, which is like a coffee brown blaze. They just turned the whole thing into jewels which are very shiny. There’s some that could house light, and there’s some that could house clay. I have something that I do with clay where it resembles lighthouses. I want the pieces to be functional because I like how people can just have a sculpture in their house. Sometimes they don’t use it, but often they just interact with it. My thing is for people to connect with the ceramic piece that they’re buying. You can put in your house and then it becomes your lamp because it has holes and different openings. It’s the light that begins on your wall with different shadows. It’s nice and interactive.

ID: Do you ever approach your artistry from a spiritual angle of creation? Is there a depth to creating?

FK: I think for me, the whole process of my art is spiritual. I’m creating from dirt and sand. But in terms of: Do I have the intention to make every piece spiritual? No. When people connect with my pieces, they feel some spiritual things that I don’t even intend to add, actually. Especially with the lines. I had a group exhibition with a couple of artists and people mentioned that this is giving them a very spiritual thing. I think we associate a lot of ceramic art to be a ritualistic vessel. I think the process is spiritual in itself.

ID: More on that, are you open to the viewer’s interpretation of your works or do you feel you have to guide them to understand every piece of your art?

FK: To a large extent, I want viewers to see the work and feel whatever they feel, and get whatever they want. If I’m there and they want to know what this piece is really about, then I will talk about it and speak to them. But, for the most part, I don’t think I’m going to go there. I want them to be able to connect with the piece however they feel like.

ID: The practice of terra-cotta is an ancient one. Is it safe to say you are reviving the artistry but you are blending it with a modern twist?

FK: I think to a large extent we are reviving the artistry because we do terra-cotta in Nigeria very well. However, I’m not even thinking of an Asian influence; I’m thinking of an influence from my village, where I go sometimes to use some of the clay and see how they fire traditionally. Then also, I go to the town of Badagry and look at the clay there. Their clay fires as if it’s like white clay, but it’s very durable. It also has sand with limestone in it, which makes the clay different. I think I’m taking a lot from the things that I’ve seen in the village, things that I’ve seen created in a traditional way. I usually fire them with firewood, since I think it’s interesting to continue using just traditional methods.

ID: You recently unveiled a new collection of work. Tell us about the Ina Collection.

FK: I made my Ina Collection in 2024. It was inspired by lighthouses again, and I used actual bulbs inside the pieces, which I haven’t done before. Usually, I’ll just put candles, but I wanted to put actual lights in there this time. And hopefully in the future— I’m actually talking to some people now—I can do a nice interior design collaboration and have my own natural lights. Anyway, I wanted to create a collection that just told the story of light. Like how you have a light over your head, which helps you realize things and see things clearer. So I started working with mirrors as well and learning how to incorporate mirrors into the sculpture.

ID: Your work is often in blue; is there a symbolic gesture to using blue fervently?

FK: It started off as a conversation. I talked to my friend and mentioned how my dreams are in a certain color. They mentioned that their dreams weren’t in blue and that’s how I realized that I’m having different dreams. I felt more connected with that color because I would often have many blue dreams. So when I said I wanted to talk about it, I was like: Oh, this thing would be too weird. But I kept thinking about the color in my mind, and it just came out in my pieces since I couldn’t stop it. But you know what? I’m okay for it to come out in my work.

ID: What are you currently working on, and should we anticipate a solo exhibition this year?

FK: Right now, I’m completing my residency at Amah Studio, and in many ways, it’s become a form of a solo exhibition. It’s actually the largest body of work I’ve created so far. I didn’t plan for it to be that way, but as the work came together, it started to feel like a culmination of everything I’ve been building over the past few years.

This is my fifth year as a professional artist, so creating this piece at this moment especially during International Women’s Month feels really special. It’s a reflection of my journey and a tribute to the women who have always been at the heart of my practice. This residency and the body of work I’ve created here feel like a starting point for greater things to come.

Beyond that, I’m excited to explore more interior-based projects this year, work toward showing at an art fair, and dive into more animation as a  medium for storytelling. While I may not have a traditional solo exhibition lined up this year, I believe I’m building toward one—and I think next year might be the right time for that.

10 Questions With… Designer Sifiso Shange

Designer Sifiso Shange, founder of Afri Modern, a Johannesburg, South Africa-based multi-disciplinary studio, has one substantial mission: To preserve his ancestry and tradition through his work. Shange’s vivid furnishings and industrial designs celebrate his Zulu heritage with bold symbols and forms, each holding a deep significance, such as the diamond shape. This mark appears in most works created by the designer, which he says embodies the feminine, particularly the mother. For him, it’s a way of honoring the women in his culture.

While most of his creativity is focused on making designs that take on bold geometric forms, Shange has a fresh approach to doing so: He uses lean-steel base structures that aid the support of woodwork, granting them a unique aesthetic. The designer also possesses an innovative approach to color, which nods to his heritage while enticing clients, a perfect plan to command allure.

Though Shange’s prominent inspiration is his Zulu culture, he is also inspired by global events from politics to faith and public figures. His recent work Mholi Wendlela, which means “The Path Leader,” tells the story of South Africa leadership and features a Zulu shield-shaped console of three variants and colors. While Msizi Wesizwe, meaning “The Nation Helper,” honors nation builders. Interior Design speaks with the designer about his creative journey, building his brand, and making eccentric designs inspired by culture, leadership, and faith.

Sifiso Shange Shares How His Designs Reflect Zulu Culture

Interior Design: What drew you to become a furniture and industrial designer?

Sifiso Shange: I think my love for being a furniture designer started from a young age. I’ve always been interested in how individual products interacted with each other in spaces and with humans. This fascination grew, and I eventually pursued my calling in design by creating products inspired by my culture. Ever since, my journey has been filled with beautiful lessons that have gifted me with the opportunity to grow and learn with every project and design idea. To be honest, the journey is a reflection of the life process; it is not linear but fulfilling with what it comes with. I strongly believe that perspective is the core of the journey.

ID: Describe your background and your earliest design memory.

SS: I was raised in the vibrant, beautiful coastal city of Durban, South Africa, where, from a young age, I loved sketching cars, clothes, cartoon characters, and imagery objects. My love for drawing would lead me to pursue my studies in design through a close friend of mine, Hoosen, who believed I was good at it. My journey has been filled with a lot of grace and kindness. I appreciate all the love and support I’ve received from my family, friends, the industry, and all the clients who have believed in me.

ID: What shapes your inspiration most as a designer?

SS: I’m deeply inspired by being alive, the feeling of living and the everyday experiences that inspire the stories I tell through design. Some are inspired by past experiences, history, and the present, and some are crafted by imagining the future through the lenses of my culture.

ID: You are the founder behind the design studio Afri Modern. Why was starting a brand important for your craft?

SS: Afri Modern was founded to tell stories about the human experience using Zulu cultural references as a way of preserving my culture. The essence of our work is to share stories that we can all see ourselves in, reimagining African design and dressing it with modern elements. Afri Modern is a lifestyle and a way of thinking; it is also a contemporary African way of life that celebrates who we are and our stories. Over the years, we’ve made designs that told different stories which are in sub-sections: love stories, respect stories, faith stories, patience stories, and unity stories.

ID: Shape plays a large role in your work. How do you bring these beautiful pieces to life?

SS: The process of creating the shapes is inspired by two elements: The first is from the geometric shapes found in Zulu beadwork jewelry and the second is the story inspiring the shape and form of the product. This relationship is beautiful because it marries the story and product together harmoniously.

ID: Would you share more about the exquisitely detailed symbols and colors in your work? 

SS: All the pattern motifs are inspired by Zulu beadwork patterns, and the pattern motifs narrate the story in a symbolic form. As for why I use such bold colors in my work, the first reason is that I love color and how it makes us feel; the second is that the bold colors all come from a Zulu beadwork point of view, and third is to give clients and projects a unique product to them through the colorway.

ID: What materials do you use within your practice?

SS: I generally work with natural timbers and locally-sourced steel. Sometimes, I expand to materials that a project requires for the best results in terms of look, feel, longevity, and sustainability.

ID: What inspired your current projects Mholi Wendlela and Msizi Wesiwe?

SS: Mholi Wendlela means “The Path Leader,” which is inspired by the path leaders, those who lead with love, care, respect, honor, and integrity. The pattern story expresses the story using Zulu beadwork-inspired motifs. On the other hand, Msizi Wesizwe means “The Nations Helper,” and is inspired by the helpers of the nation, those who help with love, care, respect, honor and integrity. The pattern story expresses the story using Zulu beadwork-inspired motifs.

ID: What challenges have you faced as an industrial designer?

SS: The challenges that I face as an industrial designer are usually technical and financial. I do believe that these challenges have shaped me to become more innovative and dynamic in how I approach the design process, which has allowed me to grow with every project.

ID: What have you been working on lately?

SS: Luhle Uthando – Love is Beautiful is a design story series that is inspired by the power and beauty of love. The story explores the beauty of love as an act that can bring out the best in all of us, exploring how love can be the solution to a better world for us all.

10 Questions With… Ceramic Artist Dina Nur Satti

How Dina Nur Satti Decolonizes Art Through Her Ceramics Practice

Interior Design: How did your journey as a ceramic artist begin?

Dina Nur Satti: I never grew up with the idea that art could be a full time job. Everyone in my family was either a doctor, in academia, or an engineer. So, my first pursuit was a career in development. I worked for a foundation in New York for seven years. My father is from Sudan and my mother is from Somalia. I grew up very close to my father’s family in Sudan and we used to visit them almost every summer growing up. We’re from the border between Sudan and Egypt, an area called Nubia. And that tradition—this is pre-Islamic—is rooted in art and ritual. As I got older, I started to realize that I had this creative expression within me, and it was rooted in where I come from. In my early twenties, I started to meet artists in New York City and people who were connected to art from their lineage. I found that they had a sense of purpose in their life and a sense of drive that I hadn’t experienced before.

I started exploring different mediums of art on the weekends or whenever I had some time off. I had some foundational experience with art, since I always had an interest in art, and took photography and drawing classes in university. I also took classes in Arabic calligraphy, European calligraphy, watercolors, dance, and eventually I took a class in ceramics. I loved ceramics because it was something so ancient and universal. For me, it awakened something very old. When I touch clay, I recognize something in the way it communicates with me that is very deep. It was almost like it took me away from my previous path and then told me, this is going to be your new life and path. I knew that if I didn’t make a change in my career at that point, I wouldn’t be able to do it later in life. So I took that leap of faith.

ID: Can you describe your background?

DNS: I grew up with a father that has a very Sufi understanding of the world, which is mixed with our Nubian, Indigenous way of understanding the world. Growing up, he used to tell me that the only thing that you have to do in life is to be on a path of curiosity and seeking. 

My grandfather is from the Sudanese side of Nubia and my grandmother came from the Egyptian side of Nubia. Her family is originally from Aswan, from southern Egypt. My mother is Somali, and we’re from a tribe called the Darood. This is also an old indigenous Somali lineage, and my mother and family told me stories about how Somalia used to be, which is very different from Somalia now. There is a deep mysticism in our region of the world; many of our people are seers and have visions in dreams, which is why we align so much with Sufism, the mystical branch of Islam. It’s so common, even if it sometimes clashes with the more conservative Islam that has recently influenced the region.

ID: What was it like for you switching career paths? Did you face any sort of pressure from people for leaving your former job? 

DNS: Being an artist is almost like a spiritual path because you need so much strength within you to choose that path, because society is not really built to support artists. So, I had pressure within myself and I also had pressure from people around me asking what I was doing. You’re leaving a career. You got a degree. You’re working for seven years, and now you’re going to become a ceramic artist? It was that internal drive where I knew that this was the path for me. It’s difficult to explain it. But you know, at the end of the day, you’re going to be more aligned and more happy with your life and with yourself. And so, I took that leap of faith. For me, I knew that that unknown path was going to be the path where I was going to learn the most.

ID: You’re a ceramic artist who is inspired by dance and music which is incredible. How did that fit into your inspiration board?

DNS: I think for me, I don’t use dance and music in my actual creative process. I used to take African dance classes and it taught me what it means to take an emotion and move it to the physical expression. So, when I started to make ceramics, I already had the blueprint for my feelings and how to turn them into the physical; so instead of dance, now it became pottery.

ID: How would you describe your creative process?  

DNS: My whole life is a creative process on some level because my creative practice is mixed with my own personal evolution. Every day, whether or not I’m in the studio, I’m continuously moving and figuring out how to open up myself and my creative capacity to physically bring what I want to create into the world. I’m reading books and doing research almost every day because much of my practice is also about this idea of decolonizing art within my own culture and within my own self. I’m doing a lot of research to understand and to relearn not only my culture, but also what happened in history to subjugate Indigenous people and Indigenous art. So for me, my practice is based on research to understand better what is the historical significance of what we’ve gone through as colonized people. Another reason is to also understand that culture is always evolving, but we can still be rooted in where we come from.

ID: When you became a ceramic artist, were you interested in carving a visual language of what your work should look like?

DNS: When I’m creating these pieces, I don’t have a plan. A lot of the time, I’m feeling where the clay wants to go, and it’s a discovery as I’m building it. It’s almost like it has a spirit; it wants to be something. So you’re in this collaboration with earth. I find that a lot of the shapes that come through me are very similar to the pottery of ancient Nubia, particularly that of Kerma, which is in the region where my father’s family is from. It was one of the great ancient African pottery civilizations.

ID: Your approach to shape is very different; it’s like you’re trying to recreate an object not typically made with clay. Where do you find inspirations for these shapes?

DNS: I have different books on herbalism from East Africa. I started to see that I was drawn to certain plants, like the baobab, or I would be drawn to the acacia, or the lotus flower. I recently found out that the lotus flower was one of the plants that survived the Ice Age and it spread into almost every ecosystem throughout the world. And so, it has represented immortality in a lot of mystical cultures. We have the lotus all over the Nile and in some of the old temples I used to visit with my father. There’s this Nubian god at one of the temples at Musawsarat-Al-Sufra called Apademak that has the head of a lion, the torso of a man, and the body of a snake, and he’s emerging out of a lotus. I became curious about the lotus because we often associate it with Buddhism or Hinduism.

So I started to study the similarities between these two cultures and the symbolism that the lotus flower represents; it first comes from the mud, then it has to move through the murky water, and eventually it blossoms on the surface and becomes this beautiful flower. In those cultures, it became a symbol for the spiritual path—you have to go through the darkness, and eventually, you break through the darknes, and awaken into your own light. Then, I realized when creating those layers in my work, it represented the movement of the lotus flower up through the water.

ID: You currently have a group exhibition at the Efiɛ Gallery Dubai, tell us about the works?

DNS: The works at this exhibition are a continuation of the Lotus series. But some of the forms are new, which I’ve named the Tower Lotus. They look like cow horns at the top or they could be crescent moons as well. There is a great connection in many ancient Indigenous traditions between the cow and the crescent moon and their association with the feminine principle. These are symbolic forms I have revisited many times throughout my practice and I associate them with the Acacia tree as well. They remind me of the branches of the Acacia, which is a prolific tree in many African landscapes and it’s a medicinal plant that is also used in Sudanese incense making. For me, there is a triple symbolism there.

ID: This is your first exhibition in the Middle East; what does it feel like?

DNS: This is my first show outside of the U.S. and it’s a really powerful moment because living in the United States can make you feel so disconnected from your region. There are a lot of Sudanese people here, so my work can be experienced by the community on a scale that might not be possible in New York City. Also, the idea of the Middle East, or SWANA region, is so complex and our belonging to it as Sudanese people is not very clear. Sudan is located at a crossroads, which is what makes us so culturally rich and diverse. Sometimes, we get grouped as Middle Eastern because we speak Arabic, but everyone in Sudan relates to their identity differently and we all have different heritages we root ourselves in. For me personally, I don’t feel Middle Eastern or Arab, I feel African first and my family has elements of Arab culture that has mixed with our own Indigenous culture but that doesn’t speak for Sudan as a whole; that’s just my personal experience.

ID: Do you have a forthcoming solo exhibition this year?

DNS: Yes, I do actually. I have some pieces showing at the 1-54 art fair in Marrakech with Ross-Sutton Gallery, just a few days after the opening in Dubai. I’m also working with Montague Contemporary, which is an African art gallery here in New York to plan my first solo show, most likely in May of 2025.

10 Questions With… Architect Germane Barnes

How Germane Barnes’s Work Reflects His Roots

Interior Design: What drew you to the architectural field?

Germane Barnes: I am a native Chicagoan who only ever wanted to be an architect. While in elementary school at Edison Regional Gifted Center, I recall building a model of The Guggenheim for a seventh grade assignment. Later, I attended the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign for my undergraduate architecture studies. I then secured my first architecture internship at Sean J. Mackay Architect located in Cape Town, South Africa. After four months working, in the spring of 2009, I attended Woodbury University for my graduate architecture degree. Since I graduated in the spring of 2012, I have since worked in the design world.

ID: You founded Studio Barnes. Can you tell us about it and the work you have done so far?

GB: I founded Studio Barnes in 2016 after being the designer-in-residence for the Opa-Locka Community Development Corporation (now known as 10 North). Our work centers on the Black experience, specifically through the lens of the United States Great Migration. We design at multiple scales, ranging from chairs inspired by Black hair to pavilions that reference my time living in South Africa coupled with Caribbean breeze blocks. We focus on identity and collaboration as a design process.

ID: You’re also a professor and a full time researcher. How have you managed to balance being an architect?

GB: Teaching truly compliments the architectural practice as it allows me to influence academia and make a larger impact beyond designing objects. The lack of representation in academic circles often steers students away from the field. My contributions as a professor will always outweigh my professional exploits.

ID: What inspired the project “Columnar Disorder?”

GB: I wanted to recast the canonical foundations of Western architecture through the lens of the African diaspora. Critically reflecting on the enduring legacy of the Classical orders—the Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian—whose distinctive columns continue to proliferate in our built environment today, I was attentive to how Eurocentric histories of classical architecture have neglected the migration of North African building traditions across the Mediterranean during antiquity. I wanted the project to recuperate this legacy through an architectural counter-narrative.

ID: Why was it important for you to create this project?

GB: It was important to reimagine these orders because so much of architecture education is incorrect or improperly attributed. It’s incredible that while history shows us that Egypt had columns first, most texts and curriculum start with Greece and Italy. This blatant disregard for proper chronology is unfortunate. The erasure of Africa’s contributions was also flagrant. I wanted to reorient and provide proper perspective while also creating new narratives.

ID: Is it safe to say this is an extensive of your 2020 exhibition “Reconstructions: Architecture and Blackness In America?”

GB: No, these are completely different bodies of work. “A Spectrum of Blackness,” the MoMA work, was a personal discovery of Blackness in Miami and how food and water could be a link across cultures. “Columnar Disorder” examines larger architecture discourse.

ID: This project took immense research that resulted in each of the columns. What was the process like for you?

GB: The process of creating the Identity, Migration and Labor orders was truly enjoyable. I traveled through all regions of Italy observing community groups, researching various classical construction methods, and looking through archaeological and anthropological texts. After six months in Italy at the American Academy in Rome, I debuted the three orders at the 2023 Venice Architecture Biennale. The total time spent on the project was approximately a full calendar year. We utilized various means, from sketches to scaled physical models to 3D software.

ID: Why were you interested in also making this into sculptures and collages? Was it a means to guide viewers through this project in different forms?

GB: Accessibility is my primary goal with architecture and design—meaning individuals who do not possess a design education can still enjoy the work. The legibility of architecture drawings can be difficult to decipher. However, sculpture and collage are mediums that the average person is more familiar with. I always try to remove barriers to work.

ID: You recently unveiled the Beauty of Labor capsule collection in collaboration with Lexus and Dilo for Miami Art Week. Tell us about the collection and what it was like collaborating with Lexus and Dilo?

GB: This was my second time working with Lexus and every time it has been enjoyable. The Beauty of Labor capsule is a miniature version of the Labor Column. The column exemplifies that much of the beauty we see in the world comes from intense labor that is usually hidden. The more the public understands the amount of care and time is placed in constructing objects we see on a daily basis the better the profession.

ID: Are you working on new projects for 2025?

GB: Yes, we have three big projects that we are proud of: We were selected for the Miller Prize in the 2025 cycle of Exhibit Columbus. We should be completing the construction documents on our Fort Worth, Texas, project, the Fred Rouse Center for Community Healing. We will be in construction for our project in Delray Beach, Florida, for Community Holdings. A local non-profit is aiming to restore a historically Black district in Palm Beach County.

10 Questions With… Textile Artist Abdoulaye Konaté

How Abdoulaye Konaté Weaves Activism Into Textile Masterpieces

Interior Design: Describe your journey as a textile artist over the years.

Abdoulaye Konaté: I started using textiles in the 1990s, when I began working primarily on installations. It was during this time that I started incorporating many different materials, and gradually, textiles began to play a larger role in my work. Over time, I focused more on textiles. I still work with acrylics, make models, and continue sketching, but now my main focus is on textiles.

ID: Your work seems to hover between abstraction and figuration. How do you approach each theme for a specific project? 

AK: I always try to adapt my technique depending on the theme. If it’s figurative, I think about the most suitable method to express the subject. My approach is grounded in my studies, where I consider whether the message should be conveyed in an aesthetic context or a more social one. Based on this, I decide whether to use figuration or just work with color gradients.

ID: Would you share your experience growing up in Mali? 

AK: My journey began with a love for drawing, and I was fortunate to have a neighbor who was a self-taught painter named Boubacar Koita. I grew up in a village in the Sahel region of Mali, by the river, and at school, we were always among the top students in drawing. We enjoyed sketching cinema posters and designing patterns for traditional weavers. We were also fortunate to have teachers who had graduated from the National Institute of Arts, and they passed on important technical skills and values. This allowed us to gradually develop our passion for the arts. Later, I attended the National Institute of Arts in Bamako and then worked at the National Museum of Mali. Afterwards, I went to Havana, Cuba, to pursue higher studies in fine arts.

ID: Have you explored other mediums aside textile?

AK: Yes, I’ve worked with oil painting, acrylics, engraving tools, lithography, screen printing, and some sculpture work, like most students who study fine arts. We also learned mosaic techniques for large monuments, and I created models that were later reproduced as ceramics. One of these models is a 12m x 2m (39 ft x 6 ft) piece that now resides in the metro in Portugal. I’ve experimented with many artistic techniques, but it wasn’t until the 1990s that I began to focus on textiles.

ID: Color and texture are important elements of your work. Is that a conscious decision or are you driven by whatever idea your thoughts deem fit?

AK: I’ve always loved color. When I worked with airbrush techniques, I would sometimes mix up to 200 color shades, using the airbrush to spray and work on nightscapes or desert landscapes. I also studied color in insects, particularly butterflies, and the way a chameleon can change its colors to blend into its environment. The variety of colors that these creatures exhibit is truly impressive, and it has influenced my work.

ID: Your latest work at Efiɛ Gallery in Dubai was inspired by a song. How did that become a source of inspiration for you?

AK: For the Efiɛ Gallery exhibition, you’ll recall that the title is inspired by Ali Farka Touré’s song “Sambadio,” which is about labor and the earth. This 9-meter canvas is like a depiction of a sunrise or sunset, recalling nature and its beauty, but also the idea of labor as expressed in the song. This connection to the land and the work it symbolizes was what inspired the large scale of the piece for the exhibition. Additionally, this exhibition marks my representation by Efiɛ Gallery; it was my first presentation in the Middle East, a region I am particularly interested in exploring. It offers a chance to link its rich history and culture with my artistic journey. In this exhibition, I have incorporated symbols and motifs that are native to the region, specifically those of the nomadic Arabs and their Bedouin culture. This exploration feels natural to me, as I come from the Sahel, where we have been shaped by a unique blend of Western, Arab, and African cultural influences.

ID: One significant attributes of your works is its large scale nature, do you often worry that the scaling won’t be perfect?

AK: Often, the scale of the work isn’t immediately apparent, but when I focus on the theme, I think about the size of the piece. I don’t necessarily think about where it will be displayed, whether in a home or other venue. Instead, I think about the space I’m creating to express myself fully and make sure the message reaches the viewers with the necessary impact.

ID: By using textile as a medium, are you also keen to make political commentary or explore other social issues that affect your community? 

AK: It’s not just about my community—it’s about global issues. With textile as a medium, I primarily address societal issues, like war, disease, religion, and political strife, with a secondary focus on aesthetic exploration. For my current exhibition at Efiɛ Gallery, the works in the series are influenced by the theme of light—its spiritual, religious, and geographical aspects. The pieces are inspired by sunsets, sunrises, and twilight, reflecting my interest in exploring light and its sources, such as the sun, stars, and the moon, along with its powers of veiling and unveiling.

ID: In what ways are you inspired by stories from other cultures and traditions?

AK: I draw inspiration from all ancient cultures, particularly those that address human themes: tolerance, beauty, religion—cultures that elevate the human soul. These universal themes transcend borders and resonate deeply in my work. My series at Efiɛ Gallery focused primarily on the relationship that communities have with the earth, especially in regions like Africa and the Middle East. These areas, with their harsh environments—such as vast deserts—require resilience, patience, tolerance, and commitment. This connection to the earth is a theme I sought to explore in every piece, with the 9-meter work as the central embodiment of this concept, emphasizing the profound strength and endurance that comes from this relationship.

ID: Your career has spanned decades, and important memories have been made. What is your key advice to the new generation of young artists coming forth?

AK: My advice is to be patient first and foremost, to work hard, study, and conduct extensive research. Artistic work is essential for progress, and one must not rush or prioritize money over the work itself. It’s crucial to focus on developing research and maintaining consistent effort in your practice.

10 Questions With… Ceramicist Andile Dyalvane

How Andile Dyalvane Expresses Spirituality Through Clay

Interior Design: How would you describe your journey as an artist and ceramicist?

Andile Dyalvane: During my young adult days in the mid ’90s, I was introduced to someone in his third year at the College of Cape Town. At the time, he was working on a graphic design project, making packaging for a box, the branding, and crafting the letters and fonts for the labels. I remember being fascinated at how he had made them on his own. I had mentioned so to him and he was excited that I found interest in his work. The following week, he took me to register for the college. They asked me about my portfolio, asked if I could draw, gave me some samples to practice and from then, I’ve never looked back.

There, I studied ceramic design, graphic design, painting and drawing. Towards the end of my second year, I majored in ceramics and graphic design. I chose ceramics specifically because it reminded me of my childhood in the countryside, and because it was the same earth that I used to play with. But I did not know that you can fire a clay object and make it permanent. We used to have these beautiful China cups in my grandmother’s cabinet that I thought were made of stone. I never knew they were made of clay.

ID: Why was working with clay important to you?

AD: I didn’t know being a ceramicist could be a career because no one was making objects out of clay around me. At that time, the closest I’d gotten to firing my clay oxen was when I took it home from the field, and then left it next to the fire. I saw the color of the clay changing to orange, and I couldn’t follow that up because I didn’t know I could fire the clay and turn it orange. But growing up in my village, people still made objects to use everyday. With my uncle, we would fix things, shape spoons and tools to collect water, and make objects out of whatever material that we could find. So creativity and crafting [are concepts] I’ve just grown around and been exposed to.

ID: Your work explores the mystery and beauty of your Xhosa culture. Why are you keen to explore this in your work?

AD: In my village, we had an ordeal with colonization. We had Christian missionaries who came and displaced many people. Artifacts were thrown out; houses were taken down. When my parents moved there around 1963 or 1964, they lived in a section where it was segmented with limited movement. In those times, if you practiced anything that was cultural—dressed in a traditional attire or sang such songs—the church would call that blasphemy, which was considered a crime. As a result, many people lost their identity because it is very important to us to believe in our ancestors, the land, in the stars, and everything.

After some time, people were able to practice their cultural rituals and customs again, as long as they went to church and were educated. Being an artist, I found myself drawn more to my heritage, the stories of the past and the artifacts that were lost, looted and taken to different museums and white people’s homes around the area. I didn’t even grow up with one clay pot, which is one of the core objects that you would find in an African home that was used for storage, cooking, drinking the traditional beer, and for ceremonies. For me, when I started having these visions of these objects that I never witnessed, but were very familiar to my ancestors, I started digging deeper and drawing what I found.

ID: Your project “iThongo” was a beautiful one, with so many collaborations. How did the idea first come to you, and what was it like creating these works?

AD: iThongo is one of the most powerful projects I’ve ever undertaken. It has its own energy because it was realized during the pandemic. If I have a collection that I’m aiming to showcase, it’s because the visions have been coming through. Once that happens, I start writing them down, sketching, drawing, or discussing the illustrations with my wife. I believe the visions come from the ancestral realm as a way of reminding us about things that we may have forgotten, or things that we need to take notice of so that we live in harmony with nature and in spirit. What happened is that the Friedman Benda gallery in New York asked if I was ready to do another solo show, and I said yes. They were interested in me making a stool, which was a perfect fit because I had already started documenting these symbols that I’ve been making.

ID: Spirituality has also been one substantial theme in your work and it goes along in the way you hold your exhibition and ceremonial shows, especially with iThongo. Why is it important to your practice?

AD: I needed people who came to experience this exhibition to be fully immersed, so I collaborated with my friend Nkosenathi, who is an Indigenous sound healer in South Africa. I asked him to create a soundscape based on the symbols of the pieces that I’ve created. Then, I asked Sisonke Papu, who is a Shaman and has an understanding of literature, cosmology and the practice of shamanism, to also take part in this project as well. These ceremonial practices are a way of recalling the energy, intentioning what these objects will be able to energize, and pass messages to those who are experiencing them. All of these components come together as a way to pass the message and the intention of healing, as well as reminding us where we all come from. And lastly, it was important to take that spiritual offering from Cape Town all the way to my village in the Eastern Cape. For where I come from, you are raised by the community, and I wanted to show that.

ID: What has been the response of your family, community regarding your work and how has that contributed to your craft?

AD: It has been important for me to have the people in my village—my family and my community—to experience my work. It was crucial because they are an important part of the process, and having them making and energizing the project shows people the essence of who I am, where I come from and what I am made of. When the elders came for my exhibitions, they sat and blessed the objects. Also, one of the things we were guided to do by the visions was to place one of the objects in a certain way. We had to create a platform and erect a monument that pays homage to the spirit of those who were left in the gravesite in the land of our forefathers. Basically saying that now, in this generation, we are free to be able to express and continue where they left off. That was a very important gesture that we were guided to do, because everything that we do is to continue the legacy of our ancestors—since they were not able to do it themselves because of their displacement. This was us trying to give that dignity back to them.

ID: Your project with Loewe called “iNtlaka” explores biomimicry. How did the idea come to you?

AD: For the past two years, I’ve been exploring a collection called iNgqweji, which was inspired by a trip I took in the Karoo to visit the desert side of Southern Africa and find these sociable weaver birds. They live in a large flock of about 200 or 300 in this huge nest they built on these camel trees. Fascinated by these birds, I interpreted that idea with clay. While making a clay nest, I infused copper and other materials into the piece.

When Loewe asked me to create a lamp for them, I was already thinking of how amazing it would be to make this nest and have glass come out of it instead. I decided to create a hanging lamp that will have this glass as if it was oozing out. The glass resembles the trees the social weaver birds lived on and also my childhood. When I was younger, I used to hunt and work in the fields, but we also used to eat berries and get some tree sap. As this tree was similar to that tree of my village that oozed out tree sap, I decided to make the glass resemble the tree sap and placed a light inside the lamp, making it shine in a different way. This was a fun way to explore a different medium and a combination of materials to create something new.

ID: Was this project your first time working with glass?

AD: Not at all. I was exposed to glass at Ngwenya glass in Swaziland, and I have explored working with glass before. What I have not done, though, is blow the glass myself. I’ll come up with the idea, go to the hot shop and give direction to the master glassblower, saying, “Okay, I prefer this form. I want to try this.” Then, they can use their expertise to determine the rest. It is something that I find very similar to clay, as you need to work fast with glass. Though unlike clay, you need to use tools instead of hands and you don’t need to leave it out to dry. For possibly my next show next year with the Southern Guild, I might be exploring the possibility of combining glass and ceramics together, or maybe just focus on glass sculptures themselves.

ID: What other materials are you open to working with? 

AD: I am open to working with wood and bronze. I once did a table that had legs made out of bronze. I have also worked with wood. And I have had pieces where I did a combination of ceramics, wood and glass. Then I also worked with copper—forged copper, to be specific. I’ve worked with my friend, Conrad Hicks, who is a blacksmith, on pieces where I used copper. I forged them to create these spikes that were in the sculptures that were inspired by the sociable weaver bird nests. Basically, I can work with any material if it’s going to give me the results of whatever sculpture that I have envisioned. But clay is always my core medium, and I sketch and illustrate everything that I do.

ID: Symbols are an important component in your craft, and it feels like you’re communicating with them. What inspires these symbols?

AD: I think it’s part of an ancient knowledge that we have that is trying to come back via me as an artist. Before we had our educational system and the writing we use everyday, there were other means of communicating, like pictograms. Since people had to find ways to communicate with others as they move from one place to another, pictograms on cave walls would be a way of doing so. For me, it’s another way of honoring the past. It’s another way of recalling the knowledge system that was eradicated by the western systems that came to us, that may also serve as old wisdom from the ancestors.

When I start having these visions of a former gathering, a ceremony, or a root, plant or animal from the past, it’s a way to remind me to take care of our surroundings. We have to remember and recall certain practices that make us live peacefully with each other and value each other’s interactions. For me, it is important to be able to use these ancient symbols that might not be foreign to others, because anyone might find it familiar, even if they do not know why. It’s all a part of our DNA because we are all from a similar ancestry as well. That’s why for me, it is important.

9 Epic Highlights Spotted At Design Week Lagos 2024

The best word to describe Design Week Lagos 2024, which recently wrapped, is simply “cultural.” Though that wasn’t the theme exactly, exhibitors seemed largely inspired by their ancestry, or narratives that are authentically African. This was obvious in the names the designers used for their projects and collaborations, and in the way they proudly explained their work to crowds during the event. Overall, this year’s show centered on “The Role of Design in Economic Evolution,” sparking numerous conversations around how design can boost the continent’s economic growth, especially in Nigeria where inflation continues to leave a lasting impact. From a sustainable chair that takes its form from cigars to a coffee table that nods to open-fire stoves, take a look at standout moments from Design Week Lagos 2024.

Explore Highlights From Design Week Lagos 2024

1. Design Week Lagos Student Competition and Workshop

With many emerging talents in the design scene, the organizers at the Design Week Lagos decided to host a design competition and workshop for students across the country. Showcasing innovation and optimism for the future, the competition served as a highlight at this year’s fair, with three student winners taking home prizes for their projects.

The Siga Chair by Ronke Ladipo

How do you make relaxation feel so chic? The Siga Chair by designer Ronke Ladipo answers that question perfectly. The chair, inspired by the arrangement of cigars inside a pack, is composed of an elegant stack of large cigar-like structures. Ladipo incorporates elements of sustainability, using recycled leather. The chair also possesses a stainless steel ashtray attached to its side, replicating the shiny effect cigars have. “The process of creating it was challenging, but I was excited to bring the vision to life,” Ladipo says. “As soon as I created the prototype, I shared it with a few friends and the response I received was positive. They loved the concept, and it was clear I had created something truly extraordinary!”

V1-C and ite chair by Temitope El-shabazz

Designer Temitope El-shabazz from Heph Co created two versions of his famous chair. First was the V1-C, a vibrant green colored chair inspired by the balance between minimalism, organic forms and his love for nature. The second was the ite chair, a collaboration with Julius Berger that blends luxury and craftsmanship. The ite chair is made from marble and reinforced with a robust galvanized iron framework. While both products stand on their own, together they caught even more attention at Design Week Lagos 2024. “I’m not trying to create new forms,” El-shabazz says. “I’m trying to redefine old forms using familiar materials in forms that are yet to be explored and often deemed impossible. Function is a popular topic, but empathy is often confined within the limits of physicality. I’m trying to heal the heart (or soul), or at least mend it. Perhaps even preserve it. It’s a grandiose idea; but if you think about it deeply, for a creator, that’s all they truly want to do.”

Ulaku finds by Ugonna Eronini

Ulaku translates to house of wealth and in this ceramic design, Ugonna Eronini takes viewers to Southeast Nigeria where she explores different textures using scrap pottery pieces that are cracked during the firing process. The designs feature four clay pieces, including a pot and a jug, which she mentions is an ode to the Wabi-Sabi mindset from Japan. “We wanted these pieces to be timeless, like the people and places we call home, by creating a vintage-aged feel and look that required dedicated hours of meticulous care and labor to achieve,” Eronini says. “Each product in this category required at least 10 hours of work. Each piece in this set, although identical, is completely different and cannot be replicated.”

Aro by Antony Oyebode

For Design Week Lagos 2024, designer Antony Oyebode wanted to spark memories of cooking so he created a coffee table called Aro, which draws inspiration from traditional cooking stoves. The base of the product is made of clay and the tabletop is made from rippled glass, merging cultural heritage with modern aesthetic. But this project also represents the dynamism of fire. Here, he mentioned that incorporating an undulating surface and recycled glass tabletop mirrors the visual movement of heat waves rising from a clay base, adding a tactile and sensory dimension to the piece. “I wanted the coffee table to not only be functional, but also serve as a statement piece that fosters a deeper connection to Yoruba culture,” he says.

The Scissors Table by Biola Olorunmo

“How do I create a design from an everyday object?” was the question Biola Olorunmo asked himself before he created The Scissors Table. The product is as descriptive as its sounds, featuring two wood cutouts in contrasting positions to make the piece look like a pair of scissors. “This design, which I call Shear Elegance, showcases how utilitarian tools can inspire sculptural furniture,” says Olorunmo. “The table features two intersecting planes that mimic scissor blades, creating a dynamic, split-level surface. A monochromatic finish emphasizes its bold geometric form, while an asymmetrical layout and cantilevered edge provide visual intrigue.”

The Dagin Arewa Chair by Aisha Karanga

Using locally sourced materials is part of Aisha Karanga’s design philosophy and this year she did so using dried raffia to make a rattan chair that she called The Dagin Arewa Chair. The product also incorporated motifs found in her culture, which transforms the product into an art piece that can fit both indoors and outdoors.

Jakuta by Olamide Jinadu

Who gets inspired by mythology? Olamide Jinadu retold the folklore of Sango, the Yoruba God of fire and thunder who is renowned for his hot-temper. She exhibited a chair titled Jakuta, which is another name for Sango. The black chair was made of mahogany and cedar wood and is intended to represent the social construct between human nature and that of the supreme deity. “The Jakuta chair is the first product in an ongoing series where I contemplate Yoruba traditional religion through design,” Jinadu says.

Apọ by Athanasius Akinwale Johnson

Athanasius Akinwale Johnson’s inspiration comes from culture. That is why he made the Apọ armchair, a chair inspired by the concept of multitude. Apọ means “we are many” in Yoruba, and he combined different materials to create the product including woods, yarns that he weaves together to create the concept of multitude, and locally sourced fabric like akwete and aso oke. 

10 Questions With… Multidisciplinary Artist Zohra Opoku

Zohra Opoku Creates Textile Art Exploring Personal Identity

Interior Design: Describe your journey as a textile artist.

Zohra Opoku: I was always an artist, as my creative output during my childhood was immense. I have this memory from when I was two years old, which my mom still gets impressed over that I can recall, where we had visited her artist friend Holger in his garden. And while we were walking through his studio, I saw these huge canvases leaning against the wall, which seemed like giants to me. I will never forget how I loved to inhale the scent of the oil paint and was fascinated by the energy in that house. Coming outside into the garden, there were strange but interesting people sitting around the table with some little sculptures, which Holger was working on. That was a big moment of joy, which still gives me an emotional feeling of fulfillment.

I have since then been obsessed with drawing, painting, dancing, photography, sports, Capoeira and fashion design. When I started studying, I ended up developing many skills and fully exploring the creative world. I believe this is why I can work in between mediums fluently today.

ID: You studied fashion earlier on; what was it like gravitating into art fully and working with brands?

ZO: Textile and fashion became part of my DNA, as it was so strongly represented through the handcrafts in my family and through the need to design my own clothes as a teenager—I grew up in a rather gray and uninspiring environment of the former German Democratic Republic (GDR) with no sense and access to vibrant clothing designs. Besides not having experienced people of color and a way to reflect my African side, it ended up becoming a search for identity and kept calling me to investigate it through my camera lens and textile printing.

ID: When did you fully begin to explore your textile practice?

ZO: Working with textiles came back to me strongly when I started living in Ghana. Everything became textile for me—the meanings, histories, and backgrounds that I wouldn’t really feel or be able to touch on in Germany, or understand. Even if I would want to dive into the same topics I’m touching on, it’s just not the same energy. It’s like once you are in Ghana, Ghana becomes you and you become Ghana. I was also able to articulate my family heritage, my emotions within my identity, using Ghanaian symbolism and traditions.

ID: You were born and raised in Germany and later came back to Ghana after many years. What was that like for you?

ZO: My Ghanaian father and my East German mother met in the summer of 1975 in Halle in the former GDR, where they both were studying. I was born one year later. We lived behind the wall of communist East Germany. Unfortunately, my father had to leave the GDR and return to Ghana. My mother could not follow and was left behind. For me, it became the remarkable story of my life—which influenced my whole being—and inspired my decision later to become an artist and to assimilate belonging and identity into my practice.

ID: You’ve been in Ghana for more than a decade now. How has living here boosted your creative energy?

ZO: Ghana has this way of infiltrating your DNA. I have never had such a strong connection to another place, and this inspiration has given life to me and informed my work. My art wouldn’t have become what it is today if I had not have moved to Ghana, as I needed the freedom to do something that does not make sense to others, but to me. I created art from my desire to inspire, dig deeper, understand humanity and most importantly, to understand myself, specifically connecting to my heritage, the Asante culture in Ghana. It molded who I am today, and I can call myself, with certainty, an artist.

ID: You work with photography and archival images, which shape your textiles. Would you say it comes from your deepest creative desire to identify first as a fashion designer before an artist?

ZO: No, not at all. I became an artist because I identify as an artist first. As much as each of my works reflect on the lives of people, I also express these stories with figurative abstractions. Is it an enigmatic means to encourage viewers to dissect your work?

ID: You use a lot of vintage fabrics in your work and also adopt fashion techniques like embroidery and stitches. How did you come about it?

ZO: It was such an organic process. Growing up, my mom was always sitting at the sewing machine or knitting; my grandmother was doing embroidery and knitting as well. Handcrafting was present in my upbringing, and painting and drawing came naturally to me. Also, textiles were always around. Later, when I studied fashion, I realized I was already done with it; I ended up spending more time in the photo department than in the fashion department. I was always exploring black-and-white photography because it connected me to my childhood—all the archival photographs of my mom and my grandparents in our photo albums were in black and white.

ID: What philosophy have you basked on that has shaped your practice and journey as an artist?

ZO: The question of identity was the starting point in my work, as an artist deeply rooted in my family lineage on both my German and my Ghanaian side. Through my studies, I have been able to articulate my innate familial connection to Ghanaian symbolism, and traditionally produced cloth—such as the Kente cloth which continuously inspires me and plays a large role in my imagery. I also love to be inspired by my natural environment in Ghana—through which I feel impulses of home, picturing sacred places and the fluidity of identity. This manifests in my work through images with backgrounds of rich vegetation, supporting also the idea of disguise and protection. I also incorporate mainly traditional dress codes worn by my Ghanaian siblings and myself.

ID: What are you currently working on at the moment? What’s the project about?

ZO: I am currently working on my screen print series “Give me back my Black dolls,” which explores ideas with references from psychology experiments conducted in the 1940s that used dolls to study children’s attitudes about race. The project is in three phases including research, workshops, and exhibition. During the research phase in 2022, conversations, connections, collections and exchanges were made with importers and retailers of dolls, different demographics of children and their parents. Due to the success of the research, we continued with the workshops, and this year, we started with the development of the artworks. One of the works will represent 200 dolls imported from China and dipped in ink inspired by the German children’s book Struwwelpeter, and also referring to traditional West African fabric dyeing.

10 Questions With… Zimbabwean Ceramicist Xanthe Somers

Xanthe Somers Questions Post-Colonial Legacies Through Clay

Interior Design: Why did you choose clay as your medium of practice?

Xanthe Somers: In 2019, I was studying for a Master of Arts in Postcolonial Culture and Global Policy at Goldsmiths, University of London, when I joined a pottery studio as a way to assuage my creative self. Playing with clay became a meditative space to think about what I was learning and, in turn, the clay started to explore those topics visually.

ID: Since you were studying prints at the University of Cape Town, how did you fall in love with clay?

XS: While I was studying for my Bachelor of Arts in Fine Art, specializing in printmaking, at the University of Cape Town, my most influential experience was the Rhodes Must Fall protest movement in 2015, which called for the examination of institutional racism within public spaces and educational frameworks. This stimulated my interest in the project of decolonization and why I went on to get my masters in Postcolonial Culture and Global Policy.

Meanwhile, I found clay outside of a school or pressurized environment and, because of that, I fell in love with it, and it became a space of uninhibited creativity: to explore, play, and make mistakes. Clay is an incredible medium that has many uses—to hold water, to hold function, to give shape, and to carry stories, which is an ability by which I am most invigorated. Throughout history, this can be traced through many objects; however, the archetypal vessel is one I always return to. Clay has the unique ability to cross the boundaries between functionality, art, class, and culture, and this makes it a vital medium to tell stories about humankind. It can be worth a few pennies in the shape of a mass-made mug or worth millions as a set of fine china. There is something poetic about taking clay from the ground we exist upon, and being the space that houses our history.

ID: What was it like growing up in Harare, Zimbabwe, and how did that shape your artistry now?

XS: I grew up in Harare, Zimbabwe, in a privileged environment—in a country riddled with the remnants of colonialism, unemployment and a huge wealth disparity. I use clay as a medium to understand my own role as a white Zimbabwean, and, more broadly, to examine white supremacy, labor practices and eco-racism within Zimbabwe, which are propagated by the Christian colonial capitalist gaze.

ID: What has been your biggest philosophy as a ceramicist?

XS: Working with clay is a very humbling process. Hand-building large, detailed works requires vast amounts of time spent with the clay—and with yourself. Each day, for me, is a lesson in patience.

ID: There is an interesting play with ornamental details in your works. Is that to create a sense of beauty or to show Zimbabwean craftsmanship?

XS: The concept of beauty and aesthetic values in Zimbabwe, I find, can still be Euro-centric. As humans, we make objects to serve us, but many of these utilitarian objects have the capacity to outlive us, not only projecting their use into future generations, but also the culture, ideas and aesthetic objectives which went into the process. The ornamentalism in the works I create are usually produced in a mocking or exaggerated tone, which challenges colonial ideas surrounding refinement, classism and sophistication.

While silent, the presence of these objects is far from neutral. Objects unexamined, unresearched and  uncontextualized retain their ethos and the ideology of the people who built them. In Zimbabwe, that history is both conflicted and contested. The political project of independence is subtly betrayed by the subconscious context of Chesterfield sofas, ornate wrought iron gates and high tea sets.

ID: You use traditional basket weaving techniques to make ceramics. How did you come to do that?

XS: Weaving, in general, is a visceral way to speak about the domestic. The sheets we sleep on, the carpets we walk on, and the clothes on our back are all a form of woven fabric and can be extrapolated to speak more broadly about domesticity, women’s work and racialized spaces in Zimbabwe and the global South. Weaving can be used as a metaphor for social cohesion or a lack thereof, but Zimbabwean basket-weaving especially has a fraught relationship with colonial and capital projects. Binga, an area which was hugely affected by the construction of Lake Kariba, was renowned for its basketry made by the women living there. Kariba Dam was built to generate hydroelectric energy and its creation submerged vast tracts of land, altered natural habitats, affected local wildlife and displaced over 57,000 Riverine people from both sides of its banks.

ID: What does your creative process look like?

XS: The ritual of collecting clay, sculpting, and then painting is one that developed a close and visceral connection with the ceramic medium. However, the more I explored, the more I found it was a medium that stretched far further than the realm of the functional, and I now call myself a ceramic sculptor. I draw loose sketches of the shapes I want to make, but it mostly changes in the hand-building process. I try not to get too attached to pieces—as being very experimental in nature, I have to get used to cracks and breakages!

ID: How would you describe your residency at the Southern Guild?

XS: It was fantastic to go back to Cape Town since I graduated nine years ago. The eight-week residency with Southern Guild offered an amazing opportunity to reunite with old friends, make new connections and get involved with the creative community, which has exploded since I left. My focus was to work on a larger scale as the residency offered a much bigger kiln than my own, so I was pleased that I succeeded in creating the largest works I have made to date. Outside of creating, I had the opportunity to sit on a panel discussion for Art School Africa’s “Creative Conversations for Women,” enjoy studio visits with other artists to engage with contemporary South African discourse, and discuss my practice with an artist talk held at Southern Guild.

ID: What was it like creating these works for “Invisible Hand,” and how did the idea of the title come to you?

XS: When I began exploring “women’s work”—such as weaving, sewing, cleaning, caring and mending—I was inspired by Françoise Vergès’ book Making the World Clean, which asks us to contemplate why cleanliness and care have become racialized and require “invisible hands” to perform these undervalued and exploited jobs. In Zimbabwe, many homes have cleaners and gardeners who exist within this “invisible” framework: caring for children, cooking meals, and sometimes traveling for hours. This work is underpaid, undervalued, and considered unskilled.

In response to these questions around invisible care, I started to explore the material presence within the domestic realm in Zimbabwe and wrote a poem to frame the works I created during the residency.

ID: You combine a range of colors in this exhibition, was that intentional and how many pieces did you produce in the end?

XS: I produced four large works while I was there, but sadly one didn’t survive the kiln. I think humans are like bees: They’re attracted to color. I use bold colors as a way to draw attention to my sculptures, then slowly, once the viewer stays with the piece a bit longer, they will begin to see the undercurrents within the themes of the work and their questioning tones.

10 Questions With… Ceramicist King Houndekpinkou

King Houndekpinkou Reveals His Deep Connection to the Art of Ceramics

Interior Design: Why did ceramics appeal to you?

King Houndekpinkou: I think ceramics chose me and I responded to the call. When I first encountered claywork, I was soul searching, looking for a purpose that is close to my heart. At the time, I was engaged in a career in communications. While I knew I was creative, I wanted to use my creative skills for more neat and fulfilling purposes, rather than working for companies and using that creative energy elsewhere. I’m not diminishing working for a company; it’s just that they’re not that close to my heart and who I am as a person. So while doing this soul search, I bumped into claywork. And that search led me to Japan, where I discovered ceramics.

ID: How did you begin your career as a ceramicist?

KH: My journey began in Japan in 2012. Then I came back to Paris and decided to keep on soul searching, taking some ceramics classes. At the beginning, I wasn’t really searching for a career; I just wanted to know how nature translated who I am as a person. Since clay is an element of nature that is super old and infused with all the history of humankind, I thought it was the best material to reflect and translate history because it’s so knowledgeable. It’s a huge encyclopedia. We talk about big data nowadays, but I believe clay and soil is where all the data related to human history is stored. I use it as an oracle, really. I embrace it as a way to find answers about the future for myself and for my life, and to just discover more about who I am in the world. Looking back at my career, it’s been amazing. I’m based in Paris, but most of the shows that I’ve been doing have been overseas and internationally. I’m blessed to be having an international career and blessed to know that that’s how it started.

ID: How would you describe your background?

KH: I was born in Montreuil, Paris, but I grew up in the Southern suburbs of France. When I was 19, I went to England to study public relations and communications and then started working in London, coming back to Paris every so often. I also have Beninese heritage, as my mom immigrated from Benin to France so I’m bicultural. Every year, I keep going back to Benin, and at home, I speak Fung and Mena. I understand the language and everything. It was always constantly present despite the distance.

ID: Why did you decide to choose the Japanese technique of making ceramics instead of Beniese?

KH: I think for me, it’s not necessarily about the technique, but it’s about the way of doing, especially when it comes to how you deal with the ceramics and the clay. When I went to Japan in 2012 and started training with my friends, I could sense the way they were addressing the clay and the way they were working. It was really spiritual. You could feel that their Buddhism and Shintoism beliefs were present in the way they practiced the ceramics. That echoed the voodoo cult, the animist voodoo cult of Benin, which is where I saw the similarities. So for me, it happened in a spiritual way and deeply cultural way. But all of that was emphasized through ceramics.

And then, I trained with Toshia Kishibuta, who I would consider my mentor, and he’s based in Vizan. While I was training with him and learning about his way of doing ceramics, he taught me so many values and how to be a man. I feel like he’s my father in the ceramics world. Inevitably, I’m going to keep using all the things that he taught me in my life because, ceramically speaking, that’s how I was born. And this is the guy that raised me. So I’ve got pieces of him that I’m still using today.

ID: Mythicism and spirituality is a strong theme in your work. Why is that important to highlight?

KH: It truly is a way of showing the spiritual depth of the material. The ceramics of Benin and West Africa, in general, show that so well and in a way that it speaks to me. When you see all the spikes on my work, these were all inspired from ritual ceramics from West Africa, but used differently. For me, this represents the sacred way of considering clay, ceramics and the the soul that inhabits those ceramics. The synthesis of both these worlds, from the things that I’ve learned from Japan and the things that I’ve learned from Benin, is sacred. Myths are made out of stories and I am telling the stories of now with the ceramics that I use. Because what I’m also trying to do is open a cultural route in the field of ceramics between Benin and Japan. It’s something that has never been done before. If I accumulate enough layers, I can make sure that it’s something that stays in the history of ceramics.

ID: Your work possesses this incredible shape and comes with bright vibrant colors; why are you so drawn to them?

KH: There’s a huge visceral aspect in my work. I mean, the process of making is already tactile, so my work reflects that. I’m mainly doing ceramics to understand more about myself and about the world, and this process is meditative as I put all the layers together. It’s almost like I’m taking out my own matter, my own flesh, and putting it onto the piece. When it comes to color and texture, the texture creates life and makes the color more vibrant. The texture is important as it is the mark of my personality and my soul. The shapes of the vessels reflect something we all know, and we take for granted because we see it every day. But it’s so ingrained in our environment that we don’t see it anymore. And that’s also an interesting shape to show how much history it carries.

ID: What inspired your new exhibition “Six Prayers” at the Southern guild gallery?

KH: Well, I did a residency at Southern Guild, where I made these works. And so before each firing, I prayed to the Kiln God that the firing goes well. Because there are six pieces, six pieces equals to six firings. And then there’s the fact that when I throw a piece, I enter a meditative state that is intense and visceral—and so full of intention. It’s charged with a lot of energy. And for me, a prayer is that feeling. It’s an intentional moment where you dedicate time to say something or to be thankful, but also to ask a higher being things. And again, we go back to what clay was first used for 30,000 years ago. It was all very spiritual and intentional. With this exhibition, it goes back full circle with the aspect of prayer, the aspect of intention, and being intentional in telling those stories. And here, there are six prayers because there are six intentions.

ID: What was the process of creating “Six Prayers”?

KH: It took me two months to create these works. At that time, the idea was to work at scale—to create a collection consisting of my signature pieces, but to make them on a larger scale.

ID: Would you say your work explores biomimicry concepts and are you open to the object interpretation of your work by viewers?

KH: No, not necessarily. I think my aim is to make sure the pieces are living and breathing, whatever shape they are. If you feel some life in them, then I’ve done my job well. If you are able to connect with them with your own imagination, and it touches your heart in a way that it makes you remember your childhood, it’s a great thing for me. I think it’s important because that’s how people communicate and exchange ideas. For myself, I have to be open to criticism as well. Who am I to say that people should not see my work in a certain way? You always see things in your own perspective, which is based on your background and cultural heritage. But luckily, throughout my career—and being able to show on all five continents—I’ve always had positive feedback. In that, I’d say that there’s something universal in the work that people can feel.

ID Are you exploring other material forms?

KH: Oh yes! I am collaborating with other artisans and designers to create a line of usable artworks. I am always open to collaborate and create new things that are a translation of my current work.