Wole Lagunju (b. 1966 Oshogbo, Nigeria, lives and works in the United States) trained in graphic design at the University of Ife, now Obafemi Awolowo University, Nigeria.
Lagunju was awarded a Phillip Ravenhill Fellowship by UCLA in 2006 and a Pollock Krasner award in 2009. His work is held in numerous collections, including Collection Leridon (France), Fondation d’entreprise Francès ( France), Saint Louis Art Museum (US) and Indianapolis Museum of Art (US).
Speaking to Tewasart Africa via a virtual call he dives deeper into his work, his creative process and inspirations, choice of medium, and his perspective regarding art fairs, auctions, exclusive gallery representation agreements and the impact of emerging artist-led residencies and initiatives across the continent.
Tewasart Africa: For someone encountering your work for the very first time, how would you describe it?
Wole Lagunju: My art directly reflects who I am and my formative experiences growing up in an artistic environment. Raised in Oshogbo, a town renowned for its art school, I see my work today embodying my upbringing, influences, and aspirations. It’s also an adaptation and re-examination of Yoruba traditional art and culture, specifically presenting Yoruba culture across its past, present, and future contexts.
When I started, I focused on representing Yoruba traditional art. I aimed to recontextualize Yoruba icons found in Western museums, assigning them new meaning. To effectively present this culture to a new audience, I realized I needed to integrate elements from my current environment, fusing them with my traditional heritage.
I’ve learned that maintaining these core aims is crucial; otherwise, my work can easily stray into unrelated contexts. I often describe my art as representing my culture while seeking newer contexts, conversations, and meanings. My consistent goal has been to create inclusive work, integrating elements from broader and Western cultures with my own to create art that resonates universally and expands on my core motifs.
Tewasart Africa: When you’re starting a new work, what’s your approach to developing your ideas?
My ideas come naturally. Entering art school in the 1980s, I initially focused on fashion design, sketching various attires and the people wearing them. This interest in fashion has remained with me. Today, I blend my innate appreciation for fashion imagery—sourced from the internet, magazines, and social media—with my training as a graphic artist. My process involves reimagining these images within the context of contemporary African art, manipulating and combining them with elements from my own culture to generate unique ideas.
My creative process is a fusion of what captures my attention, the knowledge I’ve gained over time, and my background in graphic art and illustration. These elements converge to bring my mental representations to life. As a graphic artist, I develop initial sketches and then translate those concepts into paintings. My work, therefore, seamlessly combines graphic art with its painterly execution.
My approach to painting and color is entirely spontaneous, unburdened by formal study or the color wheel. I intuitively group colors and elements based on Ona, the Yoruba visual design concept. This is further guided by Oju Ona, an “eye for visual design”—a fundamental aspect of Yoruba traditional art and culture that, like many Yoruba artists, I’ve deeply internalized. Anyone familiar with Yoruba art will recognize Una in beadwork, sculptures, royal crowns, and masquerade attire, evident in the color associations and underlying thought processes.
This appreciation for my traditional culture has profoundly influenced my work and artistic vision, evident in pieces from 1990, 1992, 2000, 2005, 2006, and 2024. While this creative process is fundamental to Yoruba artists, its subtle impact can be challenging to quantify for those unfamiliar with our traditions. This long-standing influence leaves an indelible mark on my artistic creation, representing a way of thinking difficult to articulate to someone outside my cultural context.
Tewasart Africa: We’d love to hear about your artistic path. Could you describe your journey as an artist, perhaps touching on key moments or influences that shaped your art career? What was it about ink that captivated you, and what inspired the specific ink works we see today?
My artistic practice has evolved significantly over the years. Initially, driven by affordability, I began with black ink and cardboard, creating intricate, iconographic designs before gradually transitioning to figuration. From there, I progressed to acrylic paint, and now I’m fully dedicated to oils on canvas.
Even after long sessions of painting, I often find a unique kind of therapy in drawing, using it as a way to relax. My journey with inks began in the 1990s, early in my career, during a visit to a well-known Nigerian artist. There, I discovered an album of ink drawings by other renowned artists from East or North Africa who had participated in his workshops in the 60s and 70s, alongside artists from across the continent.
I was particularly drawn to the way black ink with water enhanced the emphasis of ink strokes and pen lines. This inspired me to incorporate washes into my own intricate designs, working within my comfort zone. The more I experimented, the deeper I understood the incredible versatility and manipulation possibilities of inks. My palette in Nigeria was limited to four colors: black, red, green, and blue. This changed in 2006 when I moved to the USA, where the proliferation of art materials allowed my use of colors to become unrestricted.
Today, I view my ink works as a refreshing break from larger paintings, a method for unwinding after extended periods at the easel. My drawing process is spontaneous: I apply a wash to paper while it’s still wet, then draw with a pen to add more body and definition to the lines. Despite their seemingly relaxing nature, my ink drawings are, honestly, the most challenging aspect of my practice. My focus is entirely on the process, not solely on the outcome. It’s often difficult to achieve exactly what I envision; I can spend an entire day drawing without reaching the desired result.
Tewasart Africa: Could you share what current projects are occupying your studio, and what specific inspirations are fueling these new works?
I’m currently re-examining the intricate details of traditional art, which allows me to pinpoint the origins of my inspirations, both intentional and subconscious.
My focus is on the floral iconography of Yoruba culture, particularly as seen on the king’s crown and other royal regalia. I’m reinterpreting these traditional motifs within the context of contemporary African art and my personal artistic language. Simultaneously, I’m exploring ornamental elements within Western culture. My goal is to create a hybridization of cultures, fusing diverse global artistic traditions to foster new multicultural perspectives and spark fresh conversations in contemporary African art history. This includes reconfiguring traditional forms, such as Yoruba’s Egungun masquerades, as contemporary art.
Tewasart Africa: Your work is in significant museums and institutions worldwide. How do these achievements make you feel?
Wole Lagunju: While every artist dreams of validation—of being shown and collected—this very validation can make you more vulnerable. It’s a double-edged sword: the positive is the recognition, but the negative brings pressure, self-examination, and doubt. During these moments, you scrutinize your work anew, asking critical questions like: “Have I done enough?” “Is this my limit?” “How can I develop my work further?” “Will the public who validated me accept new directions?” This kind of self-examination is crucial for artists; it’s a daily confrontation.
Tewasart Africa: What’s your perspective on the practice of artists gifting museums or institutions with their artwork to gain relevance? Additionally, what crucial roles do museums and art institutions play in preserving and fostering an artist’s legacy?
Wole Lagunju: I am not aware of any institutions that request artists to gift their work. However, if such a request were made, I would consider it based on the institution’s mission and objectives. My personal experience has been limited to institutions requesting work on loan for exhibitions. I believe any reputable institution should compensate artists for their work, and the work must always be presented within the artist’s intended context. When an institution provides significant support, such as a residency, studio space, or a stipend, it creates a sense of mutual obligation, making a gift more understandable.
As artists approach middle age, the question of their unsold work or pieces held for sentimental reasons often arises. In this scenario, gifting these works to a museum or institution becomes a viable option for better preservation, particularly when considering self-preservation or legacy.
Tewasart Africa: What is your assessment of the emerging artist-led art centers and residency programs across Africa? Do you believe they will have a long-term positive impact on the continent’s contemporary art scene?
Wole Lagunju: Artist-led residencies/initiatives play an important role in exposing local artists to larger networks and broader perspectives. Through residencies, they can even collaborate with diaspora artists. While art created from a local perspective often suits its locale, this can sometimes limit artists from seeing a wider view and hinder the growth of their practice. Engaging with these initiatives and residencies provides a much broader outlook.
Tewasart Africa: Most of these initiatives are independent artist-led programs. Do you think this funding model is sustainable?
Wole Lagunju: I’m uncertain about the long-term sustainability of some art initiatives. What I am sure of is that local artists possess an intimate understanding of their locale. This allows them to tailor initiatives more effectively, avoiding a colonial perspective. Older institutions like the French Cultural Centre and the Goethe Institute, for instance, are arguably relics of colonial-era African expediency. In contrast, the newer generation of artists developing these ideas are better equipped to understand the needs of local artists and connect them to a broader network.
My primary caution, however, is the potential for these artists themselves to become gatekeepers, wielding undue influence over the aspirations of younger artists. Many of these established artists have their own strong ideologies and interests. Will they champion the needs and experiences of younger artists whose inclinations differ from their own? This could significantly limit artists who don’t align with their specific viewpoints.
From a broader perspective, there’s a risk of these prominent artists, who establish residencies and art centers, becoming new gatekeepers. Unlike existing imperialist foreign institutions, which answer to funders or governments, these diaspora artists often fund their initiatives independently. This autonomy, while enabling their vision, also means they are not accountable to external bodies, potentially allowing them to foster only their specific ideologies.
Tewasart Africa: What has been your past experience participating in or attending art fairs?
Wole Lagunju: For full-time visual artists relying on their work, the art fair model ultimately proves beneficial. These events draw thousands of visitors, significantly increasing your visibility and name recognition. This exposure often leads to private collectors buying directly from you. While the deadlines for creating work can be demanding, the consistent engagement and busy schedule that art fair programs provide are crucial for an artist’s career. Ultimately, the art fair model works well for the artist.
Tewasart Africa: What are your thoughts on entering into an exclusive agreement with a gallery?
Wole Lagunju: Exclusive global representation agreements with small galleries can significantly limit your opportunities, particularly when you’re exploring new art markets or working from different international locations. For example, an exclusive arrangement with a small Nigerian gallery might prevent you from accepting a representation offer in Switzerland, as the Nigerian gallery likely lacks the resources to effectively promote you there.
Such global exclusive deals restrict the reach of your work unless you’re represented by a mega-gallery. However, securing a mega-gallery is exceptionally difficult for emerging artists, requiring substantial time and talent. Even then, a mega-gallery often demands your full commitment, leaving no time for other galleries or activities.
Tewasart Africa: What are your thoughts on artists directly consigning their artwork to auctions? Additionally, to what extent do you believe auction houses are a viable avenue for emerging artists to establish and expand their market presence?
Wole Lagunju: I’m hesitant to place my work directly into auctions because of their inherent unpredictability. While strong auction results are gratifying, unsold work or price drops can have serious repercussions. Such outcomes can damage my primary market and deter collectors. For these reasons, I generally avoid auctions. However, artists sometimes have no choice, especially when a collector decides to consign their artwork.
Occasionally, an auction house’s invitation to sell your work can feel like validation. In such cases, the decision rests on the specific auction house, the circumstances, and your personal feelings, potentially leading you to participate to gauge market interest. However, if your primary goal is quick financial gain, auctions are rarely the best route. Some artists even resort to buying back their own work to maintain market perception, an approach that can create the illusion of demand.
