On the second floor of a building on Riara Road, Nairobi, there exists an open-plan layout art studio where the Seven Artists collective resides. In it, you will find that each artist has made a corner of the room their own; housing it with artwork both in progress and completed, as well as an assortment of materials and tools. When I visit on a Monday afternoon in the middle of December, the studio is warm and balmy. The sun is shining through the windows and a heady mix of pop music and casual conversation fills the room. “This is what we are like all the time,” David Thuku, mixed media artist and veteran member of the collective says with a laugh. “Sometimes we are working, other times we are chatting, often we are doing both”
Originally named Kobo Artists, Seven Artists Collective started off as an affiliate of the Kobo Safaris. Artists including Kaloki Nyamai, Onyis Martin, and Peter Elungat would commune in the foundation’s studio space and create art. Soon, what started as simply sharing space, blossomed into an intentionally collaborative effort.
Seven Artists was founded amidst a sea of other collectives. Visual art collectives, in particular, have become a staple of the art scene in Kenya’s capital city over the last three decades, slowly leading the way for the growth of the Kenyan art business. The lack of infrastructure and investment in the visual art industry has made it especially difficult for artists to make a living and thrive off their art- less than 1% of the 2024/25 national budget was allocated to the Sports, Art, and Social Development Fund. This lack of government support has resulted in privately owned and well-funded institutions such as art galleries having the upper hand over the artists they work with. Art curator and patron Thaddeus Wamukoya explains that exclusive contracts with the main galleries are the primary way for individual artists to sell work in Nairobi. As a result, “a lot of artists can feel beholden to the style preferences of the galleries they work with, which can stifle their creativity. Also, even if an artist has a contract with the gallery, they cannot guarantee monthly sales and usually don’t cover any production costs either.” He also adds that the artist’s work is only exposed as much as the gallery itself is exposed- any additional marketing work necessary falls in the hands of the artist. For many artists who prefer to focus on creation rather than marketing, this can be a deep source of frustration. “Many such artists might document and share the process of making their art, but any promotion beyond that usually does not feel natural to them,” Wamukoya confirms.
The COVID-19 pandemic and the mandated lockdown dealt a fierce economic blow to many businesses in the city. Among them were the aforementioned galleries that were forced to let go of some of their artists following a period of slow sales. Many of the artists who were let go opted to band together and consolidate talents and resources in an attempt to meet the infrastructural challenges they were facing. Collectives do not necessarily eliminate these challenges- it would take systematic changes to combat issues like low investment and a general lack of value in the arts- but they offer a solid foundation for a sustainable model to better mitigate them. Generally, there is a need for mechanisms that will shift power back into the artists’ hands, and allow them to make decisions with autonomy. Wamukoya has been working with the collective to develop a sustainable model that ensures the artists themselves hold leadership positions and decision-making roles; that they can pool together collective skills, networks, and resources; and that they can enjoy accessibility to funding with little to no catch.
Of course, the other great benefit of being a part of a collective is the thought exchange and inspiration that member artists enjoy. Onyis Martin, a mixed media artist and another veteran member of the collective agrees; “I think there’s a proverb that says: one finger cannot kill a tick, but if you have more it’s easier.”
Seven Artists Collective routinely shares duties according to each person’s strength. For instance, “when there is press to be done, the person most comfortable with speaking will take charge” explains Martin. This democratic approach to tackling tasks permeates into their attitude towards leadership too. “It does not necessarily need to be a formal position, but in a collective, I believe you need someone to chair. Otherwise, it’s easy for an artist who has a stronger personality or who sells more work to dictate what goes on,” Martin shares. At Seven Artists, the chairman’s job is to make sure the structure and values of the collective are upheld, not necessarily to make core decisions. “So, the chairman is the one who would call a meeting if we’ve decided to have one, but he doesn’t have to be the one to lead it- it’s just to make sure we do the things we need to do.”
The current chairman, Okamar Onesmus, is an oil-on-canvas painter whose current series revolves around a character named ‘Aminata.’ “I guess she is what I imagine my essence to be,” Onesmus explains. “Through her, I try to capture all the subtle, more quiet milestones in life that we sometimes don’t think are important enough to document.” The character herself is a shapely woman covered in delicately draped fabric. Some pieces include a pensive Aminata reflecting on her life, an affectionate one posing with her paramour, as well as a compassionate one doing a younger figure’s hair. During his time in the collective, his paintings featuring this ‘Aminata’ character have evolved from abstract shapes with bright exuberant colours, to more realistic figures with darker tones where he plays around with shading a little more. He is currently considering returning to abstract portrayals, he tells me, with a gentle but precise tone that reveals what his chairman sensibilities would look like.
Recently joined member of the collective Muthoni Mwangi is a collage artist. She began by painting the walls in her home as a pastime activity during the COVID-19 lockdown, before moving on to experimenting with mixed media, and finally arriving at collage as her primary medium. Mwangi was drawn to collage, both as a final product as well as a technique. On the latter, she says, “I enjoy that the material is already there, and I just have to set it up in the most vibrant way possible so I can communicate a certain experience to my audience.” Her art, a figurative exploration of time, often features human faces and figures, architecture, and clocks to communicate the complexity of temporal relationships between human beings and their environment. While her process is “very, very, very messy,” her pieces are characterized by their clean lines; both the cutouts she uses as well as their arrangements form a precise, wholesome image. To the collective, Mwangi contributes a business savvy; “I was in the corporate world before I became an artist, so I am able to bring what I learned from that world into the art world,” she explains. In return, she enjoys an artistic growth that she credits to being surrounded by other working artists. “I’ve pulled from so many artists I’ve seen here. My mentor, Onyis Martin, uses paper maché a lot in his art, and in some of my works you see that I’ve used that as a background.”
Some artists, like Mwangi, simply walk into the studio, request to work in the space, and begin to do so until the members decide if they are a good fit to formally join the collective or not. Other times, older collective members will recruit young artists from exhibitions they visit or even as they are coming out of school. Cyprian Rasto, for instance, has been working with Onyis Martin and the collective since he was in high school. His work is garnering acclaim for its poignant meditation on nature’s cyclicism, which he illustrates through a textured brushstroke and muted earth tones. His recent solo exhibition at the One Off gallery consisted of a collection of acrylic paintings on canvas, of tangled tree roots and vines extending out in every direction. Sometimes he would depict them as being rooted into the ground, and other times the plants would be reflected onto the water.
“I’m not sure that I would even call it mentorship,” Onyis says of the relationship that he has cultivated with the younger artists at the collective. “I think I prefer ‘providing space.’ Most of the artists who started the collective didn’t have those role models, and our government often treats art education as an extracurricular activity so there isn’t much respect for it. At Seven Artists we just want to provide that space we wish was provided for us at the beginning of our careers.”
Martin explains that this provision of space is on a rotational basis, and stresses that it is important for it to remain that way. That is to say: artists should join the collective, soak up as much experience as possible, and be able to leave once they have gotten all they can. Wamukoya agrees with this sentiment, explaining that; “from what I’ve seen, sometimes when artists stay in collectives too long it stagnates their work.”
Some artists have joined from another collective. Lemek Sompoika enjoys working in a shared space that still lets him experience privacy. “I find it really difficult to work when people are watching me,” he starts before adding, “so much of what I explore in my work is private history so it can feel exposing to be watched while in the creation process.” Sompoika’s work is an exploration of his lineage’s past, particularly the narratives that have been relayed to him as the “truth” about said past. He works a lot with print material like newspapers and the bible, engaging with the idea that sometimes the “truth” is sold to us through the purchase of print media or religious text. For Sompoika, the art begins with challenging his own understanding of history; “this is a process of understanding myself better, figuring out who I am beyond these colonial narratives about my people and our culture.” Through documenting this personal exploration through the artworks, he invites audiences to challenge their own understanding of identity and lineage and the way its history has been relayed.
A standard catalogue for a Seven Artists show will comprise a manifold of thematic focus and artistic styles; from abstract paintwork depicting nature to realistic portrayals of the domestic life of human figures, and figurative mixed media productions exploring the political past and present. Recently, the collective has begun hosting their own shows (along with the more frequent open studios) in a space, just downstairs on the same compound that houses their art studio. These self-funded and organized shows are yet another step in building a sustainable model that will shift the artists away from a reliance on galleries and external structures.
There are of course benefits for audiences too. By carving out physical space for art shows, the collective has inadvertently created opportunities for engagement among the greater Kenyan art community. This perhaps most accurately exemplifies the idea that lies at the very heart of the Seven Artists collective; it is only through the spirit of collectivism that artists can have sustainable and fulfilling journeys.
