Hybrid Beings Destined for Change: Suraj Adekola

Jo Manby

Heralding the new year 2023 is the following feature on Suraj Adekola, a graduate of the School of Arts, Media and Creative Technology, University of Salford, whose MA was taught and supervised by David Hancock, director of PAPER and the Fourdrinier. Adekola participated in the MA degree show at the New Adelphi Atrium Gallery, University of Salford Manchester, from 29 September to 13 October 2022, the first presentation of his new work to the public. He was recently awarded a place on the Graduate Scholarship Programme run by the University of Salford Art Collection in collaboration with Castlefield Gallery, with the support of partners Hotbed Press, Islington Mill, Paradise Works and Redeye, The Photography Network. His work, vibrantly mixed media, large scale and informed by postcolonial theory, can be viewed here: https://surajadekolaart.com/ and will be exhibited in the first quarter of 2023 in a show presented by Pavillon54, an online gallery based in London: https://pavillon54.com/

Alive with the imperative of empowerment and cutting across the neatness of the standard white cube gallery space, Suraj Adekola’s two latest large-scale works from his series We Should All Be Blacks are draped flat across the walls of his sparsely furnished studio when I visit in December.

These artworks have a powerful presence, like demonstration banners hauled through combat zones, held high above the heads of protest marches, bearers of witness to countless political acts on either side of the intersection between race and culture. Drenched in blood, sweat and tears, torn apart and remade, these works stained in red, khaki, indigo and black are the ragged flags of mass mobilisation, calling out for unity, diversity and inclusion across the human race.

Discussing Adekola’s series, We Should All Be Blacks with him, it becomes clear that the incandescent power of the work is underpinned by his wide and varied readings of postcolonial theory, its confrontational standpoint carefully informed. In his writing he has cited Stuart Hall, Kehinde Andrews, Sean Hawkins and David Olusoga. He is currently reading ‘Cross Cultures’ by Craig Storti, about the challenges of migration, its effect on psychology and family. ‘I try to make the work flow from one point to another. In a body of work this might be challenging. Inspiration from books helps develop the flow of ideas.’ Adekola shows me a page of his sketchbook, annotated. ‘I made a note here yesterday, of stories competing for attention.’

Postcolonialism seeks ways in which the world can move beyond the dichotomy of the coloniser and the colonised towards a mutual understanding and respect. Adekola has developed his own postcolonial schematic, defying the trappings of traditionally produced Western art by consigning canvas and frames to history and instead embracing the contemporary currents of transnational, globalised trade by importing Adire cloth from his hometown and using it as a support for his freeform, draped artworks.

This expands the way cultural identity can be expressed in art – through its actual medium, support and presentation, not just its content. ‘I stay away from fixing my work,’ says Adekola. ‘I try and go back to how our forefathers hung clothes on the wall. Bring that narrative in.’ Tabs have been sewn along the top of some of these new works, so that they can be hung from a pole. He emphasises that the title, We Should All Be Blacks, speaks out for unity in diversity, rather than imposing one identity upon another.

Looking closely at the work in the studio – raw, drenched, steeped and stained – rectangular sections of resist patterned tie-dye Adire fabric have been machine-sewn together with pieces of camouflage material and football jersey to create the banner shaped works. Spray paint in black and yellow, and red and black oil bar intensify the surface. The black oil bar is used as a direct metaphor for applying the beauty of Blackness to the work of art.

Thick bleach is used to draw in multiple heads and shoulders that fill the asymmetrical dimensions. ‘I add the bleach by laying the work on the floor and race it up to allow free flow of the bleach that gives the drawing a spontaneous effect. When using paint and oil sticks, I work both by laying the work on the floor and hanging it on the wall.’ Adekola explains that the bleach, while traditionally seen as neutralising or cancelling colour, here stands for unity between races and non-discriminatory commonality.

I ask about the inspiration for the multiple heads, which occur in so many of his works as vibrant, loosely painted images in white, red and black. He showed me an image on his phone, a photographic portrait of Chimamanda Ngozi Adiche, the writer, her hair styled in a crown of loops. ‘That particular picture was like a foundation for drawings that comes up again in the paintings. I try and balance the idea of gender. It’s all genders. The idea behind We Should All Be Blacks is that we shouldn’t try and discriminate between cultures. The idea is for us to be one, to prevent segregation.’

Adekola had previously been making work in a different way. His work had been concerned with multiple figures, with amassing form and colour in a semi-abstract manner; but there was a point of transition when he came to study for his MA Contemporary Fine Arts (September 2021 – September 2022) at the University of Salford. He tells of how he felt when he moved to the UK for the first time. ‘The first night I arrived in the UK, I felt sick, and I was shivering due to how the cold weather was strange to me. At that moment, I started thinking about how Blacks that were displaced during the colonial era survived the weather. It was this experience that makes me interested in the history of Blacks and their entanglement with the British Empire.’ How did people feel, physically and emotionally, when they were taken from their homeland and transported to a place where everything was different, the culture, the climate, the language?

‘I wondered how people actually survived. I began interrogating Black histories and the British Empire. How it became a point of transition. I started using my art as a way to sustain my identity in a Western environment.’ It was at this point that Adekola began to use Adire fabric. He chose to import the Adire that is made locally in his hometown. However, he is quick to emphasise that Adire stands for Africa generally – is Pan African – he uses it ‘to promote my own identity but also more generally, it’s not specific to me anymore.’ He makes the comparison to African footballers. Their achievements put the African race in the spotlight, which encourages a conversation around empowering Black people. The use of contemporary materials, like the camouflage and the randomly chosen football jerseys, are chosen to conflate together the idea of promoting one identity among the identities of many. The idea of Blackness as something not monolithic, but of a plurality of voices and experiences.

Traditionally created and worn by some Yoruba women, Adire is a resist-dyed fabric. The traditional blue colour comes from grinding then cooking the leaves of the indigo plant with water and soda ash, before soaking the mixture for days to create indigo dye. The fabric is dipped in the dye and allowed to oxidize, so it becomes bright blue, the more often it is dipped the darker the hue. The resist patterns come in three variations. Oniko is where raffia is tied round the fabric, sometimes incorporating stones or seeds. Alabere is the stitch resist method, where hand or machine sewing is used, the stitching removed after dyeing to reveal the pattern. Adire eleko is made using cassava starch to resist the dye, applied through stenciling or freehand painting.

Adekola’s Adire is mainly from his hometown, Egbaland, Abeokuta, a capital of Adire making in Nigeria. His use of it symbolises his cultural identity. Also, the process of importing cloth becomes a means of embedding globalisation at the heart of his work. Cutting up and rearranging the Adire becomes a metaphor for displacement and relocation, as well as for the placing together of diverse cultures side by side. The use of woven and stitched material evokes inclusion and belonging. There is a sense of aerial viewpoint – a landscape of furrowed, uneven ground, in the juxtapositions of the different patterned Adire sections.

How was the work received at his recent exhibition on Oxford Street in London (27 November – 4 December 2022)? ‘It went well. People liked the work.’ It has led to new ideas. ‘A piece I am working on now has camouflage pockets sewn onto the work. In the pockets there will be quotes from post-colonialist theorists. I am picking articles that people might be interested in. About ten different quotes. They can take them out of the pockets and if they have thoughts or contrary opinions, they can write them down on the pieces of paper and put them back in the pockets.’ It's a way of taking a direction towards starting up conversations and debate.

Adekola was recently awarded a Graduate Scholarship for students from the Salford School of Arts, Media and Creative Technology, 2022/23. The Graduate Scholarship Programme is run by the University of Salford Art Collection in collaboration with Castlefield Gallery, and with the support of partners Hotbed Press, Islington Mill, Paradise Works and Redeye, The Photography Network. Involving mentoring and professional development opportunities, it will enable him to continue ‘interrogating history to know more, share more, and have more conversations about the history of Blacks and entanglement with the British Empire.’

Adekola aims to work towards large scale displays of his work on the outsides of buildings. He is keen to break out of the confines of the four walls of a gallery space. He showed me a Photoshopped installation on the side of a building. The work commands attention, stands its ground, claims its space: ‘It is important to determine where art fits in, or needs to be displayed, the image of work on the side of the building is an idea to examine integration by hanging my work on or draping it over buildings to create a new relationship between my artwork and the building.’ There’s something incredibly exciting about visualizing a work like Togetherness 2, where flickering figures loom out of the stained indigo night of the collaged, stitched Adire background, that glitters with flecks of gold, expanded meters above street level and flapping at the corners against a tall building.

Diversity – woven into the fabric of the city, through art.