What significant events or formative experiences have influenced your development as a visual artist?

My journey as a visual artist was shaped by growing up in an environment where resourcefulness was a necessity. The high cost of oil colours and acrylic forced me into improvising from what others had discarded, like magazines, newspapers, posters and anything I could lay my hands on. But the real turning point came during my time in the United Kingdom, when I began to understand the environmental impact of consumerism and waste. That awareness pushed me to turn what once felt like limitation into a deliberate choice, grounding my practice in sustainability and storytelling. Participating in artist residencies, particularly at Banks Mill Studios, further challenged and refined my creative voice, allowing me to expand the scale and meaning of my work.

Could you elaborate on the theoretical underpinnings and practical implementations of narrative and tradition within your work and how these elements shape your visual language?

My work draws heavily from African oral traditions, folklore, and symbolic storytelling. These narratives are not just cultural relics, as they are living, breathing frameworks that help communities make sense of identity, belonging, and moral consciousness. Visually, I echo this by building layered, textured pieces that feel tactile and alive. The fragments I use are cut from old books, magazines, and posters. They are built layer by layer on each other, passed down, altered, and reinterpreted. My collages are therefore both documents and dialogues, preserving tradition while inviting new conversations.

Your art process involves meticulously layering fragments from various printed materials to create complex and vibrant compositions. Can you tell us more about this process?

The process begins with sourcing materials, often from second-hand shops, discarded books, or donated magazines. I spend a significant amount of time selecting and hand-cutting pieces, guided by colour, texture, and sometimes the words on the paper themselves. Layering is where the magic happens. I use the fragments like brushstrokes, allowing them to overlap, clash, and blend until they reveal something cohesive. It's intuitive and meditative, but also precise. The patience it requires is part of the message; it reflects the value of slowness, attention, and transformation.

Could you elaborate on your use of repurposed materials in your practice? What specific aspects of recycled materials appeal to you, and how does this selection embody your commitment to environmental and social responsibility?

Repurposed materials carry stories. They are not blank canvases, as they come with cultural residue, memory, and meaning. I find beauty in what is overlooked or thrown away because it challenges the idea of the disposability of materials and of people. My use of recycled paper is a statement against mass consumption, but it's also a celebration of renewal. By giving these fragments a new voice, I hope to remind viewers that nothing and no one is truly wasted. It’s an ethical decision as much as an aesthetic one, rooted in my belief that art must speak to both beauty and accountability.

What can you tell us about your collage titled “The Gaze”? What are the conceptual and practical dimensions of this piece?

While making The ‘Gaze’, I tried to capture the quiet strength and vulnerability of the Black woman. Featuring a sorrowful female figure with a regal African hairdo, the Gaze tries to confront the viewer with a gaze both haunting and dignified. As her form begins to fade toward the back, the essence of creating the piece is to speak about the systemic erasure of Black women’s narratives and identities. It is a piece of artwork that embodies reclamation and restoring value to what is often overlooked. The Gaze is a reflection on presence, invisibility, and resilience, thus inviting us to question how we see others, and how often we choose not to.

Your artist statement reveals a process of visualising human-animal connections. Can you walk us through how you identify these traits and translate them into your collages?

It usually begins with observing how someone moves, speaks, or expresses emotion. A certain stillness might sometimes remind me of a heron; a fierce gaze might evoke a lion. These associations are not literal but symbolic. In my collages, I blend animal forms with human faces or bodies, creating hybrids that suggest our shared instincts, our vulnerabilities, and our survival mechanisms. This merging questions the boundaries we often draw between ourselves and the natural world, and invites reflection on how much of the animal still lives in us and how much humanity we find in them.

Beyond aesthetics, your work offers a deep social commentary. What current global issues do you feel most compelled to address through your art?

I'm deeply compelled by issues of environmental degradation, social injustice, and the invisibility of marginalized communities around me. My art addresses the cost of overconsumption, systemic inequality, and the disconnection between humans and the ecosystems we rely on. I’m also interested in exploring post-colonial narratives and how identity and memory are shaped by history and power. These themes run through my choice of materials and subject matter, thus helping to push viewers to question what is preserved, what is discarded, and why.

In what ways do you aspire to stimulate conversation or interaction with individuals who encounter your work?

I want my work to slow people down. In a fast-moving world, I want people to be able to pause, lean in, and notice the detail within the torn edges, the texture, and the intentionality. Each fragment carries a story, and I hope this invites viewers to reflect on their own stories, assumptions, and biases. I often incorporate community engagement through workshops, using collage as a shared language of expression and healing. My hope is that people become more curious and aware about themselves, others, and the world they co-inhabit.

Art and artists play various roles in the fabric of contemporary society. How do you see artistic practices advancing sustainability and social consciousness?

I believe artists are not just creators; we are what I can best describe as storytellers, critics, visionaries, and witnesses on a slowly decaying planet. We have the power to make abstract issues tangible. When it comes to sustainability, artists can reframe the conversation by showing what regeneration and responsibility look like. We can turn waste into beauty, injustice into narrative, and silence into dialogue. Our practices can model new ways of being less extractive and more collaborative, and in doing so, we help challenge both institutions and individuals to rethink their role in creating a more just and balanced world.

What message or call to action would you like to share with our readers?

If you look closer. Whether it's a torn page, a person in need, or a story left untold, pause long enough to see the value that lies beneath the surface. We live in a world that moves too fast, discards too quickly, and forgets too easily. Through small, intentional acts like creating, reusing, and listening, we can begin to stitch a more compassionate and connected future. Art is not just something to look at; it is something to live by.

Know more about the artist here.

Cover image:

Misunderstood, 3 by 2.5 feet, Paper on Board by Armstrong Oke Agoreyo.

All images courtesy of Armstrong Oke Agoreyo.