Oyibo is Okay [statement in progress]
The desire to belong somewhere definitive, as opposed to straddling multiple cultural identities, is common within the African Diaspora. The social demographic of ‘neither here nor there’ is a fragile middle space to navigate. Many, like myself, hone a genetic memory of Africa while pledging some amount of allegiance to an adoptive land. In this dichotomy one is forced to form a unique hybrid culture and identity that authenticates one's existence.
In my work I explore themes of authenticity, cultural synapse and the migration towards or away from aspects of one’s origin. My large scaled drawings experiment with creating a visual vocabulary to identify Western populations, Continental Africans and the hybrid breed that ensues as a cross pollination of both. I am interested in the imagery of these characters in reference to biological organisms and processes, or mathematic functions that have the ability to both divide and multiply. Each drawing tells a story about the dynamic and complex relationship these three distinct identities and cultures have with one another. Their visual interactions address issues of a presumed cultural hierarchy, various degrees of shared connectivity and the isolationist desire to maintain ‘purity’.
*OYIBO- noun.- “Yellow Pepper”. Word is used amongst Igbo speakers to describe people of European ancestry (non-derogatory) and Nigerians who have been ‘whitened’ by their cultural Westernization (derogatory).
Place is a State of Being [2007-2009]
The inspiration for this body of work stems from ongoing questions I have about home; as a political structure, a psychological identity and a physical dwelling. As an expatriate and modern day nomad, there is a sense of displacement and isolation evident in my work. I have lived on three continents, none of which can I call home. I do not own land; I rent space one year at a time and have accumulated exactly four items of permanent furniture; not including a bed.
The idea of land, as a space, a void, a potential home; overwhelms me. But nothingness can be contained and validated by railroad tracks, or a door, or a fence. All function to separate home from not home, government housing from decent living, inhabited space from no-man’s-land. The home I know is temporary and with it comes a level of instability. I am desperate to solidify a vastness and through my materials be able to make a space [home] that is tangible despite its impermanence.