By Ifeoluwa Olutayo
Some signs follow those who believe.
Drawn from the good book, I have recently seen it reflected in many works of art. It’s simple: You believe in beauty and choose to express it in art, and in those very eyes, we behold–reflected if we must follow the logic–the beauty you willed to be true.
In the very spirit of sign-searching, I gallery-hopped with friends over the last weekend in the bustling cultural centre that is Lagos.
My first stop was at Rele Gallery to view their Young Contemporaries exhibition. Rele Gallery has just turned ten this year and in celebration of that, they put up an exhibit featuring artists from their roster and participants from their Rele Arts Foundation Young Contemporaries Programme.
One artist I found striking was Ameh Egwuh. The two works on display evoked conflicting emotions with juxtapositions of colour, composition, placement, and meticulously ordered backgrounds straight out of a world built on mathematical concepts.
With Fight or Flight, the subject is frozen in a frame of fear letting go of his glass of water, reacting as any will, but this fear is painted in the colour pink with geometric patterns in the background, evoking uncertainty, not in the attack, but in the presentation. This figure, represented in this colour and in this frozen frame, challenges representations of men and masculinity in a world that has settled on particular associations and gestures disapprovingly when those representations are not followed.
Fight or Flight (2022) by Ameh Egwuh.
The subjects in his work are faceless, with lines running down their faces in ordered angles and spacing; this representation is inspired of course by Ife Art and the scarification found on the sculpted figures. They feel like an opportunity to immerse yourself into this scenario, bringing you into this world not as an observer, but as a participant.
The second painting, like the first, presents subjects diametrically opposed to the elements in the work, but in this case, it’s the setting, not necessarily the colours. We find three figures in native attire, wine juxtaposed against distinctly European architecture, and a balcony richly textured, as the backgrounds provide, once again, rich yellow and orange lines and patterns. With this, he opened up this world to an inquest as my friends, and I debated colonial considerations and the place of the black bourgeoisie in enforcing hierarchies and consolidating colonial structures for personal gain.
As my second point of interest, I could say I enjoyed his work, having once experienced in 2023, his solo exhibition, It Was Meant To Be a Game and I’m looking forward to possibly seeing these two works and others in the future.
The winds took hold of me and planted me solidly in the plaza of 12, Glover Road, Ikoyi, where the TR Art Institute is domiciled. I was a witness to Catharsis, the new exhibit showing at this gallery, curated by Godson Ukaegbu, and I must say that I found it very moving.
The exhibition boasted works of Akanimoh Umoh, Jimmy Nwanne, Ibe Ananabe, Duke Asidere, Chika Adu, and Damilola Opedun, a fascinating roster of immense talent and prestige.
At this gallery, the work of Damilare Opedun piqued my interest, again because of the juxtapositions at play.
Terrestrial Borders (2024) by Damilola Opedun.
This set of oil paintings blurs the lines between contemporary rural Nigerian architecture (pointedly the community-dwelling in Makoko) and what seems to be inspired by Byzantine architecture, creating a dream-like assertion of the uncertainty of the separations of space and time. It was a uniquely interesting relationship with how we represent memories and how these representations may be true of the boundless interconnections that reside in our heads, unfettered by chronology and geography and how we construct new realities.
I felt a bit thrown by the connections to European (and daresay colonial) heritage these works portrayed, especially in choosing to represent the architecture of the now in the rural, but for an artist who has long been immersed in combining these two worlds and attempting to retell our collective stories in his figure paintings, I see the intent. It starts the conversations. What conversations? Reorientation.
St. Marcello (2024) by Damilola Opedun
Another artist that I found intriguing in the lineup was Chika Idu. His deft capturing of moments of community and joy in multiple frames was a sight to behold. I usually find Polyptchs engaging, as they represent an incredible grasp on the craft of visual art, but also prove their author’s storytellers with composition and the flow from one canvas to the next.
Izu (Diptych) [2024-2025] by Chika Idu.
His diptych, Izu, captures youth in its vibrancy, colours, and in the assemblage. The delight of friendship at the stream is presented beautifully across these two canvases, with frozen moments of daring jumps being executed, with the lush greenery in the background providing a soothing horizon. The form, oil on canvas, provides a firm occurrence, but his technique also gives off a dream-like effect, like a memory being pulled from a life well-lived. At times, it feels like a witnessing, just as we stand far-removed in our memories as observers and as I did with my friends as we moved through the works at the gallery.
His Triptych, In Accord, provides a sense of commune in activity, with a resplendent showing of swimming figure, that never feel separated by pedestrian things like the end of a canvas.
In Accord (Triptych) [2024-2025] by Chika Idu.
At my final stop at the Alliance Francaise Gallery in Ikoyi, I found the work of Folu Oyefeso, in a debut solo exhibition titled Scrapbook. An exhibition curated by Ladunni Lambo, it was a picturesque scene of cultural diversity and personal journeys and stories intertwined in singular frames. 
You Are A Creation Story (2024) by Folu Oyefeso.
Folu’s use of collage to imbue stylistic elements with photographs was pleasing to see, as he had managed to capture many locations in one frame as a coherent journey across landscapes, while also spinning new narratives.
You are a Creation Story embodies that, with elements linked to creation, such as Obatala’s chain running down to earth in the Yoruba Creation Mythology and the chicken he descended with on his way to his (ultimately incomplete) task of creation. In that frame, you find the spiral, a symbol in many cultures of life and creation, and you find it juxtaposed with an artisan engaged in the art of creation. All of these elements provided an education and a reimagining if curiosity abounds. I liked that, the process of inquiring and learning.
Digital Dash (2024) by Folu Oyefeso.
Narratives abound, and signs followed me wherever I planted my feet.
What signs?
Symbols, a lust for life, and new creation stories.
