Tim See began working in clay while an art student at Onondaga Community College and completed a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Ceramics with Honors at Syracuse University in 2004. Tim’s work has been shown at the Smithsonian Museum in Washington, D.C, the Everson Museum in Syracuse, NY, the Memorial Art Gallery in Rochester, NY, and, at Baltimore Clayworks in Maryland – as well as many other galleries and shows. The work has been recognized with awards every year since 2003. Social media has provided Tim many platforms to communicate with more than 11,000 potters nationally and internationally. Since 2007, Tim has produced 92 educational videos on pottery that have been viewed almost 2 million times and attracted more that 13,000 subscribers.
The preferred printing supplier for potters everywhere! SmallDogPrints.com
You said we have more choices now and we can be our own everything. What does that mean to be our own everything?
So as a business owner and as a maker we have to wear all sorts of hats from marketing to quality control. And as a single owner of my own business I have to wear all those hats but I also get to wear all those hats.
Does that mean one should enjoy that process or do we have to endure that process as a discipline of business?
There are endurable things like taxes and the unwanted business parts that have to happen to be successful.
You said we could pay people to do the non-art parts of our work. Do you think that is a viable approach to someone trying to get their business off the ground?
So business off the ground, probably not, but the goal, at least my goal has been that I can outsource the things I don’t enjoy doing. The hours I spend doing my taxes, I could make more money doing my thing than I would have to pay for those taxes. It’s like mowing the lawn, would it be cheaper for me to pay the lawn mower guy than doing it myself? Three hours of work versus three hours of mowing the lawn. Making my work seems like a better use of my time.
How has social media given you the control you need to run your business?
My business started doing craft shows and doing craft shows I was dependent on weather, that was the biggest determining factor of whether it was going to be successful that weekend. If the weather stunk than I made no money and if I make no money than I have no control over my business. It doesn’t happening immediately but over time I now know what I need to do on social media and I now have control over the start to finish. The making, promoting, selling, shipping, all of that is now my responsibility which is a blessing and a curse.
Are you still doing one sale a year?
It is more so the way I operate this year. Typically, I was doing a beginner’s sale so people who have never bought something could have an opportunity to buy something without fighting everybody.
Below you’ll find a collection of essays I’ve written in my personal journal over the years. These essays cover topics and feelings artists experience yet rarely share.
Can you just do? On artistic sensitivity, self-doubt, jealousy, happiness, failure and work
As artists we’re able to fall deep in dark pits of self-doubt, uncertainty and melancholy. We question our purpose, hold on to negativity, and doubt our abilities because it’s hard. It’s really hard to work against the grit to pursue our calling – something that has been given to us at birth. Sometimes the psychological pressure we feel being a working artist is tougher to overcome than the financial burden we all face at times.
“DO” is the theme of LeWitt’s 1965 letter written to a fellow artist Eva Hesse, who was tormented with self-doubt. In this video Benedict Cumberbatch reads the letter that’s incredibly moving no matter how many times I listen to it.
On comparisons, failure & jealousy
Many artists are riddled with jealousy or a paralyzing fear of not being good enough or of not being able to achieve greatness. As a result we draw endless comparisons and feel bad about ourselves. I often see how jealous other artists are of me despite their achievements and accolades.
I think about the mastery of others differently, although I must admit that I also compare myself to others. First, I look at the talents of others as a high bar to reach up to, as a place to aspire to and to be inspired. I find other artists’ work incredibly inspirational to me, and I also learn from art and artists a great deal. Second, I look at other artists I admire not to give up because they are good and I’m not. They are talented and I may fall into this trap thinking that there is no time in the universe to ever get close to their level of mastery. Perhaps, I’ll never will, but why would I give up on all the fun and joy that art brings me?! Why would I limit myself and stop painting just because someone else is better?! See, comparisons don’t move you forward, they stop you from even beginning doing something meaningful in your life, and as a result you end up achieving nothing, complaining about the circumstances you’re in. I release myself from this weird feeling of jealousy. I replace it with a feeling of gratitude I’m here to create!
Failure takes a big part in my life. For every finished painting there are a few that end up in a trash bin. I get rejected often. I also fail in some relationships with people, and fail to communicate my boundaries that get pushed, pushed to the wildest extremes at times. Failure is intense, frustrating, hurtful. Failure paralyzes. Failure grounds me to the floor so hard I can barely breathe. Over the years it’s getting harder to recover from it. However, failure doesn’t stop me from trying to achieve what I want. Failure is a signal to do things differently, to find a new approach. And finding this new way takes a lot of energy that often rivals my desire to let it all go in flames.
If you are a gifted person, it doesn’t mean you got something. It means you can give something away.
Carl Jung
On Artistic Sensitivity
Artists are also extremely sensitive people, and react to circumstances and opinions on a much deeper level than others. That’s one of the reasons why we see so many talented actors, writers, painters and musicians self-medicating a ‘weakness’ that’s been defined as a ‘mental illness.’ I think it’s more complicated than that. I see sensitivity in young art students. What I can control they can’t yet, and those emotions often arise and confuse them.
Yes, the sensitivity that artists have makes us different, different in having a natural gift that actually keeps on giving, if we nurture it. It can become the artist’s ‘strength.’ We’re able to see something beautiful in mundane places. We are able to move people emotionally. We go down in history as innovators in thoughts and movements. We make the world less ugly and more humane. Artists bring light and beauty into this world and it’s a wonderful contribution into this world if you ask me.
“The greater danger for most of us lies not in setting our aim too high and falling short; but in setting our aim too low, and achieving our mark.” Michelangelo
On self-limitation & work ethic
As artists we’re creative. However, we often impose limits on ourselves via dated beliefs and social norms. In the beginning of our journey we may want to conform to norms. However, those norms and limitations stifle our natural creativity. Allow yourself to experiment with new materials, play with your ideas and paint what you want to paint! Also, take art classes to learn new or different skill. Despite having all the college degrees I have, I often buy new classes online because I want to learn new skills in digital painting, illustration, business, finance, etc.
Talent is cheaper than table salt. What separates the talented individual from the successful one is a lot of hard work.
Stephen King
Also, it’s super important to work through your artistic problems. If I gave up on every painting I created I’d be in the same spot I started 25 years ago. By working through my problems, finishing up every painting I learn to problem-solve and evolve. I improve my artistic skill and creativity by not allowing myself to give up on something that’s frustrating at the moment. I usually take a break from work that doesn’t look good and come back to it at a much later date. This pause allows me to see things differently and I am usually able to fix problems on canvas within minutes instead of hours or days spent on it in the past.
“If people knew how hard I had to work to gain my mastery, it wouldn’t seem so wonderful at all.” — Michelangelo
There is no cute formula for success in painting. It’s hard work every day. Other artists’ achievements inspire me to move forward, those artists become my guiding stars. That’s why I have no jealousy towards my peers, because I can see what’s possible in due time and practice. We fulfill our dreams with our own work, not the work of others.
I believe we succeed eventually, because we refuse to quit. Although it often feels like a dead end where there is nothing to go by, when words like ‘nice work’ or ‘good stuff’ can get you only that far. But a strong will, belief in myself, and the internal love for my craft keeps me grounded.
On a bad day 🙁
Powered by the ruthless force of frustration, I run with a steep incline, at the speed number that meets my level of emotional pain. The soles of my worn, running shoes fly over the rotating black belt; they build endurance, the survival tactic. And I run as my legs ache and they beg to slow down, but I refuse, I flush out my hurt with tears. My heart’s stomps blow my ears, and I override it with trance beat. My face deep red, I run. I track the whooping breath in my lungs. My insides burn like fire, and I run. My skin prickles, and legs are about to cramp. I’m acid perspiration. Unstoppable I become, feel the rise of resistance to my failures, to painful words and encounters, to the insensitive world that drowns, but teaches, teaches me to survive. And that’s how it feels on a bad day. Drenched in sweat, I run on a treadmill of artist’s life.
On a good day 🙂
The joy of painting runs inside me like the cobalt blue river. The snowflakes dance above its glossy surface and trickle down in my limbs. I feel the rise of divine energy and melt into another place, the forth dimension. It’s there, there I create. Through the looking glass I fall, where I hear no judgement and see no stop signs. The round clock on my wall quits ticking. Like a sweet fragrance of blooming roses, my joy flourishes and invigorates me. And that’s how it feels on a good day.
It’s one of those rare instances where you can see someone as powerful as Madonna being so vulnerable. Her speech explains so many things that underline her internal motivation for the work she has done as a female singer. She talks about sexism, misogyny, and feminism in the music industry receiving the award at Billboard Women In Music 2016.
“Be the Hero of your own story” by Judge Judy Sheindlin is a book for every young or young at heart girl to read. It explains the importance of independent thinking, and how you can open yourself up to opportunities. It’s available as a free download at Judy’s website: http://www.whatwouldjudysay.com/
On Happiness
Is happiness a persistent state? Numerous books have been written about this subject. A million coaches preach that happiness is your ultimate goal to achieve to live a meaningful life. Everyone wants to get it. And if you admit that you’re not living it, you are the one who doesn’t work on yourself. But is it that simple? Because it sounds like judgement to me. Happiness can be illusive. It’s just a moment in time. A moment of curiosity, connection, love, awe and joy. Those moments could be numerous but emotions are not constant if you’re a sensitive person. Changing emotions are like a river that runs, turns and shifts quite often. Every bump on the road presents a change in emotion. Happiness is just one of the emotions in a big spectrum of feelings. Yes, we can prioritize this feeling to have beautiful daily experiences but there is no guarantee to feel it even when we work on it. It shouldn’t be work… Recently I met a person who emanates happiness. I can see the sun rays beaming from his chest. Can he feel as deeply or understand someone else as well as someone who experiences other states of being? I think it depends on a person… I know a woman who is always happy like a little girl. That’s fantastic because life is easy and fun for her. But when I have a closer look at her personality, her emotional spectrum is shallow. She experiences a limited range of emotions that pass quickly for her. While she enjoys her happy days, she is unable to comprehend the other person’s point of view or emotion.
A range of experiences makes up a person. And when peace arrives, it transforms into a state of serene happiness. Because when you’re at peace, you feel connected to yourself. Happiness isn’t permanent but becomes notoriously present inside the person to become whole.
Omnipresent Love, colored pencil & mixed media on paper
On dreaming big
The graveyard is the richest place on earth, because it is here that you will find all the hopes and dreams that were never fulfilled, the books that were never written, the songs that were never sung, the inventions that were never shared, the cures that were never discovered, all because someone was too afraid to take that first step, keep with the problem, or determined to carry out their dream.
Les Brown
As a child I didn’t learn to dream. As an adult I spent two decades of my life figuring out how to dream big. It involved a lot of inner work, parting with established rules and social conditioning. I became ambitious. A word that’s attributed to successful men, ambition often describes women in a negative tone as heartless go-getters. However, a healthy dose of ambition is necessary to grow professionally. As parents we should encourage development of natural abilities of our children to form lifelong interests, and as adults we should take responsibility for ourselves to develop ambition.
I believe that long-term success is never accidental. It’s hard work and sacrifice mixed with obsessive desire to overcome the impossible, mostly overcoming my own limitations. Some people spend years complaining and waiting for a miracle to dawn on them, but I think that’s finding excuses and not working on your fears get you nowhere. By challenging myself and accepting failures I’ve been taking many steps forward in becoming who I am today. However, what I’ve been missing in my life is a role model or a mentor. If you want to succeed in anything you dream about, find a strong mentor in your field. Mentorship helps model successful behavior. It also cuts down on frustration by doing the art business efficiently. You can waste years figuring stuff out on your own.
I also understood that gaining the right direction is a lot more important than speed. We want to have quick results, but life is rarely quick to deliver what we want. And understanding exactly what I wanted took a lifetime for me. Goals and aspirations may change over time. It’s ok. But if you’re serious about your career, concrete goals with due dates on my calendar make a big difference for me that give measurable results.
I often find myself in consistent hard work pushing through frustrations and failures daily, but I have also noticed that it’s not enough to break me through the ceiling. It’s not enough to have the talent. It’s not enough to work hard. It’s not enough to exhibit. You have to find greater meaning in anything you do, which benefits others and is unique to you. Now I know that the most important thing for my soul is to encourage art students to succeed professionally, and this is where you find me with my students, podcast and writing these days.
On finding support
When relatives and family are not great supporters of your art, search for like-minded people to support you emotionally, intellectually and professionally. Also, remember that your family’s absence of support is not because they don’t love you, but because they are also scared of your financial instability being an artist. This fear gets projected onto you and actually holds you back before you even start doing anything towards reaching your goals. Artists at heart who decide not to pursue creativity as a career often become depressed, because they remain unfulfilled and not seen for who they truly are. Therefore, it’s vital for parents to be supportive of their children’s attempts early on to give them the tools and the opportunities necessary to jump on a train on time and to encourage a positive mindset to achieve meaningful results in the future. It’s much harder (but still very possible) to establish yourself artistically later in life.
As a person, artist and teacher, I’ve seen a lot of discouragement and criticism that brings people down before they even think of pursuing something of importance to them. Over time it creates a timid mindset where you simply agree that it’s useless to dream big, or worse, you don’t even know that you can dream. So, instead of coming to the road filled with adventure and discovery, people turn to a comfortable sidewalk of boredom and in-the-box thinking. At the same time, when children get constant praise and 10 golden medals are given to all 10 places, there is not enough improvement and attempts to pursue higher goals. This is where a mentor comes in. He or she is capable of enough encouragement, yet can give a constructive critique, passing his/her skill and wisdom to the next generation of artists.
Every person searches for acceptance, understanding and love. We want to be accepted for who we’re. But the truth is that there is no personal growth, if we don’t look at ourselves from all sides. Surrounding ourselves with good friends who are able to encourage and nurture our gifts often help us overcome the worst pitfalls we have. It’s a blessing. We should nurture those friendships.
The role of the artist is exactly the same as the role of the lover. If I love you, I have to make you conscious of the things you don’t see.
James Baldwin
On belief in yourself & purpose
Sometimes it’s difficult to find meaning in life if it’s not survival. Finding your own path or purpose is a different game. When we finally find ‘it’, fulfilling our purpose becomes a choice whether to pursue it or not. We can live in a depressive state of mind because of these two opposing reasons. If we don’t do what we love, life is meaningless. When we do what we love, problems and circumstances can be so overwhelming, we end up having a depression. What’s the cure? I think it’s about finding strength inside yourself. By being yourself and not looking for approval from the ‘outside’ world is a difficult task for many. I find my purpose in capturing the most beautiful side of the Universe in my art, and I’ve trained myself not to care what others think of my creativity.
One of the most important things in life is to believe in yourself. Don’t say you can’t do this or that. Don’t doubt your abilities. Believe that you can. And learn how to do it. This simple belief system has changed my life. Shifting my mentality, I opened myself up to learning and achieving so many things without relying on anyone else or finding excuses not to do it. Our insecurities, excuses and doubts kill our inner confidence, and if you can’t really believe in your abilities and yourself, your mind says ‘no’, people feel it, and you stay where you are. Dream big. Move mountains. Believe.
This simple word ‘happiness’ didn’t resonate with me for years remaining elusive and meaningless. The pressure to “feel happy” hovered over me like a guillotine, coming from all corners of the universe-the TV, magazines, family. Every outlet fixated on the idea of promoting happiness… Why aren’t you happy? Isn’t it funny how our culture sets the standards? You are either in or out.
I’m so incredibly fortunate I live a lifestyle that many cannot even dream of. I love my entire day from morning to late night. My lifestyle allows me to focus on my job-painting, and not to worry about tending gardens, providing for a large family, or simply looking for clean water, like in the African nations or Latin America. It’s my pure luck to live in a place with infinite opportunities.
I’m incredibly fortunate that I have the talent and I’m an artist. Although it’s been a very hard road to travel, today I understand that what I actually possess sets me apart from others. I used to be upset, thinking salespeople of vacuum cleaners (no offense to all sales associates, please) didn’t have to struggle with attitude, misery, and years of hard work during and after grad school. Now I see that although every job must be respected (a good plumber is always in demand), my work is no different from the work of others, yet it makes me different.
I contribute to society on the emotional level, not the material one. I know that my art leaves legacy, even if it looks insignificant and much less important than the invention of a light bulb or the Internet. I’m leaving a record of our time… Like any contemporary realist artist, I capture the beautiful in response to my surroundings and ideas. As I’ve learned to value myself for who I am, this blog entry is devoted to those artists who struggle to accept and value themselves. It is possible to stop the high-speed train at any moment, if there is enough willpower inside you to embrace change. Stopping my own self-destruction wasn’t easy. Thinking negatively about myself, crossing busy streets ignoring traffic, dragging one day to the next–all were unhealthy habits I couldn’t get rid of…Don’t let your memories, events or people dictate how you think about yourself. In your mind, let negative and disrespectful people go. No matter how you try to nurture your relationship with them, they won’t change their stance on life, and that will continue bringing you down (even if they don’t mean it). Stop feeling worthless by making room for people who appreciate you for who you are and value your opinion. As your outlook slowly starts to change, you begin to attract new and different people into your life; people who inspire you to create, live, and smile.
*Originally published in 2013.
What makes an artist great is the ability to access the inner world we all have but that most others can’t access.
Rick Rubin
How to find your artistic voice
How long did it take you to paint that? “My whole life.”
Jackson Pollock
This is the most persistent question people ask artists to open up a conversation. They also want to gage the retail price of artwork to the number of hours spent working on it. Unlike the production of manufactured goods, this formula is not applicable to artists and art. It’s the fact that classically trained artists spend years, sometimes decades learning and developing a unique style and voice that can’t be measured by this simplistic formula of counting hours spent painting one artwork. Put professional artist in a room with anyone else interested in painting and ask to paint a tree. Both artists will spend equal amount of time on art creation but the result will be different. It takes years to become good, not hours spent painting one piece.
Art is within reach. We always find what we’re looking for if we truly seek it. It takes time and effort and our willingness to change to make things work in our favor. Learning to express ourselves visually is a need. Without having this inner need the artist remains an illustrator or a good craftsman. To develop your unique visual language you must dive deep inside your soul to understand your WHY. Why do you create what you create? What does it accomplish? What do you want others to see in your artwork? These are the questions that are always there inside my painting process.
When I went to art school at the Oklahoma State University back in 2001 I was lucky to have an oil painting professor who was I dare say old, probably in his early 80s. He had his convictions teaching art – painting large, having few rules, not worrying about the subject itself. His artistic belief was rooted in the American abstractionism and skillful realist figure drawing. He used to say, “It’s not WHAT you paint, it’s HOW you paint it.” I couldn’t disagree more with that statement back then. I thought that the subject of painting or the story behind it was vital to the very nature of painting. But I also thought that the unique way the artist handled the paint was important. I still think of the professor fondly. Before and after graduation with my MFA degree at Penn State, I commuted to New York taking art classes in classical figure drawing. I felt I had no talent. I pushed myself hard to learn the skills. I believed that the WHAT in painting required solid understanding of figure drawing. Two decades later painting full-time I believe that it’s not WHAT vs. HOW. Truly creative artists have mastered and combined both concepts in their art. So the subject is just as important as the unique handling of the paint. It’s important to experiment and innovate. Today I tell stories in my art using figure, color and symbols but I’m also pushing the boundaries of traditional painting techniques. While I rely on art history and skills I gained to depict the world realistically, I like to experiment with color, mixed media to create unusual surfaces and effects. So it’s not just WHAT I paint but HOW I paint it as well.
Artist’s path can be thorny, most unpredictable and definitely complicated. People avoid living such a life, many artists never make it in the profession, choosing stable comfort instead, working jobs they dislike. But true artists at heart are artists at every aspect of their lives. We can’t resist the thrill of adventure, self-discovery and limitless learning. We love to capture beauty in ordinary places, of seeing beyond the obvious, of expressing emotions without words. And that, my friend, is a blessing. Musicians, poets, writers, painters and other creatives often live in a tormented reality that eventually bares the fruit of labor.
On artist sensitivity, jealousy, self-doubt, failure, work and dreams
As artists we experience a wide range of emotions. All people have them but we tend to feel them much deeper. In this episode I share my thoughts about artistic sensitivity, jealousy, self-doubt, failure and work. I also tell you how I’m learning to dream big as a creative. I hope this is helpful to you if you feel stuck or unaccepted for who you are. Dive into the world of visionary art and explore the emotions and beauty behind art creation.
Erin Louise Clancy is a ceramic artist based in Queens, New York, with over 25 years of restaurant experience and a BFA in printmaking. Focusing on collaborative custom work, Erin’s pieces unite these influences with functional design.
Do you find that when you work with someone else that you see an increase in creativity?
Yes, definitely. I feel most creative when there are actual constraints put on me. So when you think about a collaboration I love that there’s this structure. The structure allows you to be creative.
Is there an other side to that? How could collaborations be a restriction on creativity?
Well I think it just depends on how you work. For me because I like the problem solving elements of collaboration that’s exciting to me. To solve a problem, whether it be the best type of bowl for service or survives a dish pit, I mean that’s where it gets interesting. The question is one that is very personal and you have to ask yourself, are you a person that likes those constraints in which you can thrive or are you a person who needs no external parameters.
Is there a higher potential for conflict working in collaboration rather than working by yourself?
Working in the studio with no outside forces, I think to be honest, those are often the moments when I sit down to make my own work or this moment that doesn’t have any goals…I think conflict is kind of strong word, I think there is a kind of tension. A tension between whose needs are happening. But to be honest I sometimes get writer’s block when I am just working for myself. So that conflict feels very present just when I am by myself.
Does having deadlines on your work make you a more focused maker?
Absolutely. I think deadlines for me are way to hold me accountable. Right now on my board I have both sort of client based work and then work for myself. Even for my own collections we need to put deadlines down so we follow through with the project.
How do you mitigate against deadline failures? Like you have to redo something.
Oh yes, so over the years the best thing that I have ever done for myself in a contract or in emails is I never say a hard deadline. I say every single deadline is an estimated delivery window. And before I take on the work or before I take on the client there is a always a conversation about the handmade ceramic process and that things can happen. I don’t give any delivery dates until I unload the kiln.
What about payment? Do you have them pay some before hand or wait until after the process in completed?
Yes, my policy has always been before I begin any production I require a 50 percent non-refundable deposit and I don’t start any work. We will have fleshed out design at this point in a consultation but in order for me to actually start working on the job I do take payment of 50 percent and the remaining balance is only due upon completion.
What is your favorite thing about collaborative work whether with a restaurant or with your friend?
People. People, at the end of the day collaboration is the just getting the opportunity to be curious about each other and about what we need and want and like. At the end of the day ceramics is the way in which we can further those connections with each other.
Nelson Ijakaa, a Kenyan artist and advocate, has firmly established himself at the crossroads of creativity, activism, and technology. From his formative years in Nairobi to his current residency in Hamburg, Ijakaa has steadfastly championed the idea that art is not merely a means of expression but a transformative force capable of reshaping society.
Amidst the whirlwind of his residency, professorship, and activism, it felt like a real stroke of luck to find a moment to sit down and talk. I was very grateful to be able to steal him away from his commitments—particularly his role as an honorary professor at HFBK Hamburg, where he leads dynamic discussions on how technology shapes the visual arts—to hear his thoughts on augmented reality (AR), artificial intelligence (AI), and the power of art to interrogate power systems while amplifying African voices.
Witu Conservancy II by Nelson Ijakaa (acrylics and image transfer on canvas, 2024, 135 x 170 cm)
Our conversation meandered effortlessly, weaving through topics as vast as Kenyan Independence—central to the body of work currently available through Rise Art—to his mission to de-alienate contemporary gallery spaces. Listening to Ijakaa speak was nothing short of mesmerising; his words carried waves of knowledge, delivered with passion, conviction, and a certain ease that left me in complete awe.
I hope I can do justice to the depth of insight he shared during our discussion. To provide clarity, I’ve structured this feature into several sections, mindful of the complexity and sensitivity of the histories explored. I have tried my best to recount our discussion with care, with the support of Ijakaa’s guidance and edits.
The Political Backdrop of Nairobi and Its Influence
Nairobi has long been a city of contrasts: a bustling hub of culture and commerce shadowed by stark inequality and political unrest. Post-election violence in Kenya—most notably following the disputed elections of 2007 and again in 2017—has left deep scars. These events were marked by widespread violence, systemic corruption, and the brutal suppression of dissent. Nairobi, as the political and cultural epicentre of the country, became both a battleground and a space for resistance.
Right: Maandamano II (oil pastels, acrylics, and image transfer, 2024, 97.5 x 60 cm) | Left: Gallery visitor photographing Maandamano II
Social justice centres emerged in the city’s slums offering a place for marginalised communities to organise, speak out, and heal. These spaces were vital to Ijakaa’s artistic awakening, connecting him with the communities that would later inspire many of his works and his purpose as an artist. One of Ijakaa’s formative experiences was working near Mukuru, one of Africa’s largest slums, alongside his then mentor, Patrick Mukabi, at the GoDown Art Centre. Mukabi’s studio served as a refuge where people from all walks of life could create. “I was so moved by people’s circumstances,” he says. “I understood from my time here that this so-called successful country just doesn’t care for its citizens in a wholesome way.”
This proximity to Mukuru shaped Ijakaa’s understanding of art as a vehicle for social change: “I began asking myself, ‘What can I contribute to this conversation? What can I do to help?’” Amazed by the everyday resilience of Nairobi’s residents, Ijakaa set out to use his work to humanise and amplify the stories of those overlooked by society.
Maandamano II (oil pastels, acrylics, and image transfer, 2024, 97.5 x 60 cm) and The Crucifixion; (Maandamano) (acrylics and image transfer, 2024, 140 x 191 cm) are part of a recent larger body of work commemorating Kenya’s 60 years of independence. “In these pieces, I analyse and critique what it means to live in an independent Kenya today, contrasting the current reality with the spirit of optimism that characterised the immediate post-independence era. I draw on archival materials, including declassified documents and newspaper clippings, to construct a comparative narrative of the country’s lived experiences over the past six decades.”
The subjects of the portraits are young people from Anidan, an orphanage in Lamu, Kenya, where he taught during a residency in 2019. “To me,” Ijakaa emphasises, “these young, often forgotten individuals symbolise the state’s shortcomings in fulfilling its responsibilities to society.”
Shadow Art: A Light on the Invisible
One of Ijakaa’s most profound projects to date was his use of shadow art to highlight police brutality in Nairobi. In Kenya, the impunity of security forces is a recurring tragedy. Extrajudicial killings—where young men are arrested, disappear, and are later found dead—are not uncommon, especially in economically disadvantaged areas. “People had become desensitized to seeing bodies on the street,” Ijakaa remembers.
He used broken acrylic sheets, salvaged from Nairobi’s polluted rivers, to craft sculptures that cast evocative shadows. “These rivers are where waste is dumped—and, tragically, where people are discarded too. I wanted to draw that connection,” he says. The shadows formed by his installations were haunting, showing outlines of violence that viewers were compelled to contextualise. As audiences approached the work, sensors triggered lights that revealed the full narrative, creating an intimate, confrontational experience.
This tactile approach reflects Ijakaa’s belief that art should engage all senses to leave a lasting impact. “When people walk into a room and feel the art, not just see it, it stays with them longer,” he says.
Lalamika I by Nelson Ijakaa (acrylic and image transfers, 2024, 113 x 146 cm)
Decolonising AI: A New Form of Activism
Today, now residing between Arusha, Nairobi and Hamburg, Ijakaa’s teachings focus on the ethics of AI and AR, specifically how these technologies can empower or exploit creatives. His nuanced position balances optimism with caution. He embraces AI as a tool for enhancing artistic expression but warns against its misuse, which he calls “new-age sweatshops”—a mechanism that strips artists of their agency and reinforces global inequalities.
“When used unethically, AI becomes a new form of colonialism,” he explains. He points out that AI systems, often built on biased datasets, perpetuate exclusion and exploitation. For example, during an earlier collaboration with Greenpeace on decolonising visual imagery databases, Ijakaa encountered the stark limitations of AI systems trained on Western-centric archives. “For example, if you typed ‘snow in Nairobi,’ you’d see an image of Paris,” he recalls. The project aimed to create more representative datasets, showing what Nairobi—or any other African city—might look like in imaginative or hopeful scenarios.
Witu Conservancy by Nelson Ijakaa (acrylics and image transfer on canvas, 2024,135 x 170 cm)
Confronted by the exploitative underbelly of AI, Ijakaa began to shift his focus to ensuring African creatives were recognised as active contributors rather than mere consumers. “We need big conversations to happen around colonialism in AI,” he says. “This isn’t just about art; it’s about equity in the systems shaping our future.”
Breaking Down Barriers in Art Spaces
While Ijakaa’s work addresses global systems of power, his advocacy often begins on a local level–no doubt inspired by his time at the GoDown Art Centre. Central to Ijakaa’s philosophy is the need to challenge the elitism that sadly pervades many traditional art spaces, advocating for greater inclusivity and accessibility. “I want to break down systems that close people off from art,” he says. “Art is for everyone, not just for those who can afford to navigate its gates.”
At his own exhibition in Nairobi, Ijakaa once arrived without formal attire, his dreadlocks loose, only to be stopped at the entrance by security guards who assumed he wasn’t on the guest list. After an awkward exchange during which he had to prove he was the artist, he was eventually allowed to attend his own show. True to Ijakaa’s empathetic and perceptive nature, it wasn’t long before he invited the guards into the exhibition space and personally guided them through the show.
When recounting this experience, he was careful to emphasise that the misunderstanding and assumptions were not the guards’ fault but rather a reflection of “the power structures at play in the art world.” Far from being disheartened, this moment further motivated him to ensure that any exhibition spaces he is involved with welcome locals who might otherwise feel unwelcome in gallery settings. The artist passionately aspires to include anyone and everyone who wishes to engage in dialogue, expressing: “I want people to look at the work I make and see universality.”
Toward a New Canon of African Art
It is for this reason that Ijakaa presses the need to rewrite the global art canon. Why, he demands, do figures like Picasso and Matisse still dominate art history while equally groundbreaking African artists remain obscure? It’s no wonder people don’t feel welcome in these spaces where they haven’t ever felt represented. “African artists have always existed,” he asserts. “It’s time for their voices to be heard and their art to be experienced.”
Nelson Ijakaa at the Artist in Residence-Space during the Graduate Show 2023, Hamburg | Photography Credits: Tim Albrecht
He envisions a future where Sub-Saharan African artists are celebrated as integral contributors to global art history, not just as exoticised footnotes. “My mission is to ensure the art of this region isn’t forgotten but remembered and used to educate others,” he says.
An Enduring Past
The process behind Miaka Sitini II, which forms part of a diptych, involved gathering newsprint and documents from the period immediately following Kenya’s independence. These materials, also used in Miaka Sitini III, reflect the hopes and dreams of a newly independent nation, along with its early challenges and complexities. In Miaka Sitini II, this archival content is juxtaposed with contemporary news, encouraging reflection on what has changed and what has endured over the past 60 years.
Miaka Sitini II by Nelson Ijakaa (acrylics, sisal fabric, spray paint and image transfer on canvas, 2023, 130 x 190 cm)
“The main figure’s image is transferred onto the canvas alongside the archival material, while the background is painted in dark acrylics,” explains Ijakaa. “Monstera leaves, commonly associated with tropical forests, surround the subjects. In this context, the leaves signify the complexity and obscured layers of the subject matter, partially concealing the image transfers and evoking the depth and mystery of a tropical forest.”
A Multisensory Future
Today, Ijakaa’s practice remains deeply multidisciplinary. From shadow art to video installations, woodcut prints to image transfer techniques, his work defies the constraints of a single medium. “There’s so much pressure to have a signature style, but I believe in evolving organically,” he says.
Right: Miaka Sitini III by Nelson Ijakaa (oil paints, acrylics and image transfer, 2024, 143 x 106 cm) | Left: Detail image of Miaka Sitini III
With Nairobi’s young, politically engaged artists pushing back against government repression, Ijakaa sees hope. The city’s gallery scene has become a space for challenging, provocative work, often tackling taboo subjects such as queerness and systemic violence. “The creative output of this season is meaningful,” he says. “It’s a reflection of the resilience and spirit of the people.”
As Nelson Ijakaa continues to push boundaries in art and education, his work reminds us that creativity is not just an act of self-expression but a catalyst for change. Whether he is decolonising AI or amplifying the stories of Nairobi’s marginalised communities, Ijakaa is reshaping the world’s understanding of what art can—and should—be.
One way I respond to her statements about what holds back women is to feel how they apply to my own art practice/life, then turn them around, and affirm the reversal:
i stand up in front of the world, unique and sovereign.
I have found reversed statements like this both bracing and encouraging. They have given me courage on days when being an artist feels so hard, such a waste of effort and precious time.
i throw prudence to the wind and
try to emerge beyond the given world
I can even try:
i have this madness in talent called genius
and if that sounds too much, I can still ‘try on’ the statement or ‘hold it against me to see how it might fit’.
This OWN-TURN-OWN practice of working with de Beauvoir’s words has been very formative for me. It has given me energy to continue on bad days, and to place my work in a larger perspective. It moves beyond a reprimand into spine-strengthening encouragement.
Next time: Themes and metaphors in Chapter 14, all the words
From Chapter 14 The Independent Woman, I extracted statements that Simone de Beauvoir makes about women artists and writers, in particular and in general. Doing this is an act of noticing and attending that you might want to do for yourself. If not, you can find the list of quotes here: List of quotes from Chapter 14, in order.
The next step was to TURN each statement*, using I … rather than she, woman. For example:
she tries to deny her intelligence as an ageing woman tries to deny her age
This list has accompanied me throughout the last 8 years I have pondered it, read it aloud while walking the room, hidden it, refound it, and been re-energised by it countless times. They have become a list of affirmations, a kind of creed, a manifesto.
————————————————
*I’ve come to appreciate TURNING or reversing as a technique from the Byron Katie’s Four Questions in her book Loving What is, from Jung’s ideas of the Shadow, and David Richo’s book Shadow Dance.
In the next post, the themes of Chapter 14, a summary.
You can help support the show!
