The Discomfort Zone
‘Dead Aid’, by Nukwase Tembo. The thing that struck me most about her work, when I first happened upon it, is how much light rises from her canvas. When you contrast that with how loud and verbal the images themselves are, it’s quite the paradox.
THE GRAB: What are you most worried about right now: national security, Coronavirus, or artistic immortality?
NUKWASE TEMBO: I don’t believe in worrying and I don’t like to worry about anything. So I would say I’m concerned rather than worried. I am concerned about the current state of our national security.
TG: I only ask because I wonder at the delicateness of the creative mindset … Like, what are your thoughts on creativity as a function of trauma? Do you think we – creative people – sign up for this high-risk/minimal-reward life because there’s something within we’re trying to fix? To exorcise?
NT: I think different people create for different reasons, and not everything is or should be linked to one’s trauma. Creativity does help one exorcise their inner demons or fix whatever maybe broken on the inside … but creative energy transcends all of that and does so much more for so many people.
That said, I don’t personally view my decision to become a creative as high-risk or only just minimally rewarding. As is the case in any other field, there are people who are successful and fulfilled and people who are not.
TG: What’s your process like? Is there a studio? Music? Caffeine?
NT: Well I take my art very seriously, so I do have a studio. I work full-time, as one would any other job, except there’re no fixed hours. The most important thing is meeting my 8/10-hour quota each day. So some days begin while everyone else is fast asleep – others begin anywhere between the early morning and early afternoon. As long as I’m bathed and hydrated, and I’ve got either pin-drop silence or a kick-ass playlist ready, the inspiration to create kicks in automatically and we’re good to go.
‘Clusterfunk’, by Nukwase Tembo. If you don’t get a little queasy beholding this one, because a time portal is literally swirling in front of you, then I’m not sure we’re natives of the same galaxy …
TG: Without getting socio-political or anything, a lot of your work carries strong messages about gender equality. I also know you exhibited recently. What do men, and particularly Zambian men, make of your work?
NT: My work does exactly what it’s meant to do, which is disturb the comfortable and comfort the disturbed, and Zambian men are no exception. Some men absolutely love it: it resonates with them and helps them understand the plight of women a little better. On the other hand, others feel extremely uncomfortable just looking at it and they probably hate it.
A few gents actually asked me if my exhibition was a reflection of how unhappy my spouse makes me, which is laughable, but I suppose people will use anything to distract themselves from an uncomfortable experience.
TG: In my mind the very worst part of being an artist, besides all the self-doubt and the subjectivity, just has to be all the networking after an exhibit. Would that be correct or am I kind of an asshole?
NT: (Laughs) Artists are as human as anyone in that we have different personality types. There are extroverts, introverts, and everything else in between. So while some artists hate networking and even having to explain or defend our work, there are people who relish all of that.
I started out very closed up and reserved but networking is a huge part of what I do so I learned to enjoy it with time. You get to meet so many amazing people and you also gain access to plethora of great opportunities. That doesn’t mean you have to be an extrovert to network. You can still network with your own personality. That’s what makes you, well, you.
TG: When one writes a novel there’s a lot of, like, just waiting around for your thoughts and the news and all the pop culture you consume to unscramble itself – usually within a year or so. Is it like this with a work of art? That same mix of conscious and subconscious input, day-by-day, and patience?
NT: It actually kind of is – the creative process, that is – though I like to think of it as kind of like recording an album … There are multiple pieces of work all falling under the same theme, being crafted over a specified period of time. So certain pieces do take a lot of time, thought and effort to get to the final product, while others feel like a walk in the park.
‘Lady Justice’, by Nukwase Tembo. I’m as captivated by this chocolate brown skin as I am by the endless sea beyond it. I also marvel at how Tembo’s elements hail from minimally separate dimensions.
TG: In what direction do you sense your art growing? What stories do you anticipate telling, for instance, in your fifties?
NT: I’m a humanist and so my work will likely morph into more and more areas of the vastness of human experience, which is and will not be limited to one theme. I already have ideas lined up for my next couple solo exhibitions, and once I am done with these only time and experience will determine which road I take thereafter.
I also consider myself multi-talented, so I would love try and exhaust every last superpower by the time I am well into my 50s! So I guess my art, or my creative prowess, rather, will be multi-disciplined in the future.
