Portfolio CV
Resistance as Method
I work from a position that is not neutral.
As a Black artist, I know spaces in which bodies are read, restricted, overlooked, or fixed in place.
My works do not answer this by explaining. They set something against it: lacquer, fabric, projection, code. I build situations in which the image does not obey.
The lines in my work are not painterly gestures for their own sake. They are the beginning of a conflict. The lacquer pulls, tears, stalls, resists. The fabric conceals and touches. Projection shifts the place of the image. Code carries movement further, movement that cannot be pinned down.
What emerges is not a decorative image, but a space that insists on itself.
I am interested in the moment when control loses its authority. Not as a romantic accident. Not as a painterly effect. But as a bodily, political, and formal process.
A line can tip. A gap can speak louder than a surface. A body in space can change the image. A digital system can show what refuses to stand still: pressure, loss, closeness, evasion, return.
From my own experience, I make works that must be entered, crossed, or triggered.
The personal does not remain confession. It becomes structure: threshold, counterpart, gap, reaction. Whoever comes close is not outside it. Whoever looks becomes part of the situation.
For me, resistance as method means: no smooth representation, no visibility that asks permission, no decorated pain. Instead: works that attack their own order and take form from that attack.
Practice
My origin, and my craft, are in painting. From there I develop works in which lacquer, fabric, projection, and code operate together.
For me, lacquer is not a sign of spontaneous expression, but a material under conditions: surface, gravity, drying, and time all have agency. Different lacquers first appear full and bodily; as they dry, they shrink, crack open, compact, or lose tension. Those transitions are exactly what interest me.
In the digital works, the digital layer is part of the decision from the beginning.
Already while painting, I ask which line might later carry movement, which gap will matter in space, and which form needs to appear on fabric, on the floor, or at body height.
I photograph or scan selected lacquer lines and translate them into digital structures. This translation is not postproduction; it is an extension of the work.
Code matters to me because it is both precise and open. A system has to function, but within defined parameters it can deviate. Randomisation here does not mean arbitrariness, but controlled unpredictability.
In this way my practice brings together painterly craft, digital translation, and spatial experience.
The digital components arise from the question of what a painted line alone cannot do: time, reaction, return, scale, and the involvement of real bodies.