The Salt Mine series is an African classic by Karimah Ashadu. A work that, maybe wasn’t too, or was not supposed to be noticed, but looks to be one of the best pieces of art to emerge from the artist’s studio. The use of Gouache and cut newspapers to visualise a short story about the uncertainty and effects of migration is exemplary, the voice is also very fresh and original. Karimah’s Salt Mine series is set in Dakar with a strong theme of independence, labour, and patriarchy, featuring a young man about to embark on a journey overseas in the wake of his older brother. The painting follows through every one the main character approached to discuss his plans to migrate, starting with his mother, who expressed the agony of losing her children, and then his father, friends, as well as other background characters that were weaved into this series to properly illustrate the general idea by the artist, fusing cut out, as well as other everyday life items like radios and television from discarded newspapers, giving evidence to how Karimah Ashadu’s work cuts across various mediums of storytelling: film, sound, sculptures, and painting. But they are also fastened by some of her most prominent sentiments, including her dedication to wandering into the mundane, as well as her undying fascination with Lagos, Nigeria. This healthy fascination of Nigeria by Karimah is also the catalyst for her latest film production, Machine Boys.
Motorcycles are perfect for speedy transportation, especially in a traffic-ridden city like Lagos. It is also an affordable means of semi-private transportation. However, the advantages of having motorcycles on the road are the disadvantages, in the sense that criminals began employing the vehicle for criminal activities, leading to long and sometimes short term ban by the Nigerian government. In Machine Boys, Karimah explores the informal economy of motorcycle taxis – colloquially known as “Okada”, in the mega-city of Lagos. The word “Okada” which the bikes are named after comes from a town located in the Ovia North-East Local Government Area of Edo State, Nigeria. Banned a few years ago due to the government’s inability to regulate the biker industry, Machine Boys portrays a hardy group of bikers who continue this illegal work, seeking to attain financial autonomy and independence. In Machine Boys Ashadu dwells on the consequences of this ban, meanwhile portraying the daily rituals and challenges faced by Okada riders in Nigeria.
We can vividly remember the time in 2019 when you uploaded the first image from the ‘Gouache on paper series’, stuck to memory instantly. We remember the artworks that followed, beautiful layered lines and color patterns that although appear simple, are complex to achieve. We remember also the regular posting until it stopped and continued again some time in 2020 when you were funded to continue on the practice. Seeing that brought about so much joy, and the works that came after 2020 showed an immense sense of growth and self development. You’ve made a lot of other beautiful pieces since your short film and the occasional documentary photography. We note everything. However we would love to know what inspired the Gouache on paper series? It seems like a project that involved a lot of time and patience, it was also one of the projects that made you question your entire career, it would be nice to know the head space you were in artistically at the time.
I started drawing again around 2019 when I wanted to visualise my first feature film “Saltmine”. I was on a residency in a beautiful part of Southern Germany and I had the sustained focus to bring those ideas to life. I like Gouache because of its depth of colour, and collaged with found newspaper. Not to romanticise the residency, it was actually a little traumatic because of hostile racial experiences in such a remote area, so I found respite in drawing and my studio. I continued drawing around 2020 when I started a series titled “Fruit” based on childhood memories growing up in Lagos. It kind of paused when my practice got busier. I received my formal art training in painting and have this strong desire to return to it in a considerable way. I guess I need quite some more space and time to bring it into fruition and I’m still trying to carve that into my practice. I’d love to make a show that just focuses on drawing and a series of sculptures.
It matters a lot that you’re now a mother because motherhood is time-consuming, more than the process of making art. How has it been juggling these two things, being an artist and being a mother?
Aligning mother-hood with my art practice and businesses has been essential. To be the best mum, I need to ensure that I’m fulfilled in all ways. It’s up to me to establish what that feels like and to follow through. When I’m living my life from this place of fulfilment, my son gets the best version of me. Also, my son is bougie AF so mummy loves getting that dough. Motherhood aside, I feel it’s so empowering and crucial for me that as a black woman, I am successfully self-employed and I live from a place of choice. I’ve also realised that I don’t need to hustle anymore. I now enjoy making money productively, with a lot of ease. I’m finding that being in my feminine energy actually enables that.
You go everywhere but you always return to Lagos. Why? Even your comeback series “Fruit” felt like an ode to Lagos, including your film “Machine Boys”. Can you briefly discuss your relation with Lagos as a city that inspires your art?
Nigeria is my foundation – Lagos is where I grew up. I feel like one always returns home. Though I’m fortunate enough to be anywhere I wish in the world, there’s nothing quite like being in a place where you just get it and it gets you. I can be myself the most here. We share the same culture and skin colour in all its abundance. I feel seen, appreciated and understood. I’m also fascinated by Nigeria – its people, history, etc, so I’m constantly inspired.
What is the one question about art and the process of making it that you wish people asked you about more often?
Saltmine painting series.
As a journalist yourself, it is a honor that you agreed to make this interview with us. Your book Open shields is a beautiful and important archival piece. Why the title “Open shields”? Also can you briefly tell us why it was important for you to make the book project? And if you will be so kind to send us excerpts to publish along with this interview.
Thank you – though I don’t consider myself a journalist. I’m an artist. I wanted to make “Open Shields” to accompany the project “Plateau” 2021-22 a work in tin mining which took place in Jos, Plateau State. “Plateau” encompasses film, as well as a series of photographic and sculptural works. The project is very broad and the book feels like the site to orchestrate all of these elements in concert. The title “Open Shields” came from the idea of the ground in the region as a battlefield or site for injustice and its depleted arid earth as futile armour. I had a lot of gratification conceptualising this first book together with the brilliant Graphic Designer Claus Due and the team at Vienna Secession where I had my first solo show, so this book holds a special place in my heart.
Lastly, it could be nice for you to use this floor to mention some artists that you draw inspiration or ideas from, as well as people in your community who have always supported your work and pushed you to become a much better artist.
Naming artists is always a difficult one because I don’t really follow the work of other artists in that way, although there is much admiration for my peers and those who have come before me. I often don’t even see a lot of shows, because I like to ensure my vision and ideas are mine. My family is a constant and I love being surrounded by their energy. They’ll often all come to shows, and its always hilarious for me to turn up with this very loud and vivacious posse!
