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By recognizing our shared humanity, we may discover something greater than ourselves

Oct 6, 2024

8 min read

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Navel Seakamela, a South African artist, constantly explores identity through his paintings. His subjects are portrayed as silhouettes with ambiguous genders, featuring minimal details except for their dark tonality and often prominent red mouths. While his large-scale paintings focus more on a shared sense of identity rather than individual people, the close framing of his subjects and emotive expression give his portraits an intimate and vulnerable feel.


How did you decide to be an artist?

I grew up in Limpopo, in a rural area, where I watched and read a lot of animation. I used to travel about seven kilometers to find an Internet cafe where I could print out pencil drawing animation images so that they would last longer. Later, the family moved to Johannesburg due to work, about six hours away from Limpopo. During this time, I started questioning what I should do for my career, and I decided to study art based on my interest in art.


Your works were first print-based. When did you change your style?

I studied printmaking, sculpture, and drawing but never painting before. However, while working for the artist Angus Taylor, who creates large sculptures using different stones, bronze and stainless steel, I developed a love for caving portraits on stone. I worked for him for three years, and his work inspired me to create my own pieces. Due to financial constraints, I switched to painting, drawing inspiration from the carving work I used to do.


You isolated yourself during the COVID-19 era, and that period helped you find your own voice. How did it happen?

It was a sad period for two years, and I underwent a lot of changes. So, I bought a lot of paper to sketch on because I was indoors the whole time. I began to self-introspect and tried to find myself within whatever I was doing. I started making figures and silhouettes and painted black figures. But I soon realized that I felt empty within myself, and that reflected in my work. Within the black faces, that's where I found meaning. I discovered more about myself and investigated more to find other ways to communicate with the world through my work. I also drew inspiration from the Looney Tunes characters, which black figures are misrepresented. Characters were represented with red lips and black faces, and I incorporated that into my work, as it spoke more to what I was going through.



In 2021, you had a very expressive, intense series with black, painterly portraits.

I was angry at that time. I was frustrated with what the world offered me, but it was nothing in the end. I decided to discover myself and create a space that reflects where I want to be. I envisioned a surreal place filled with beautiful and bright colors, where everyone is beautiful, and there is harmony in everything. But I experienced something else. So, I felt content in expressing myself through painting as an introvert.


Your paintings focus mostly on the mouth, and you use vibrant red to emphasize it. What does this color symbolize for you?

There are many advertisements around us, and I've noticed that many of these ads use bright colors and bold designs to catch people's attention. I think this is meant to make the ads more appealing and engaging. I wanted to incorporate this strategy into my own art to spark conversation and evoke emotions about the origins and current state of the outbreak.


It's fascinating that most painters interact through the eyes, but you use the mouth to get attention.

I used to create art where the eyes were either closed or depicted in darkness. Once, someone told me that the eyes are the windows to the soul, but in my perspective, I wanted to portray my figures in a sensitive, vulnerable, and even frightening manner. Most importantly, I aimed to invite real, genuine emotions and no fear of being vulnerable so that viewers could relate and be themselves, rather than projecting a facade. I wanted to delve deeper into the question of identity and how society and influences shape us, and to encourage viewers to question their own impressions of themselves.


You use a very dark black tone for your figures so they seem to be hidden.

People are often very reserved in social situations and don't really engage in interactions. I also question how I am around people. Most of the time, I don't say much when I'm around people; I wait for the right time to contribute to the conversation. This approach extends to my work as well.


Thanks to the unusual image cutouts and large dimensions, your subjects seem very close to the viewer yet locked around the frame.

When people interact with you, they form an idea of who you are and make an assumption based on that. I want to provide an outlet for people to truly connect with others on a deeper level rather than relying on their initial judgments. I want people to come closer to whoever they interact with in a sense. I envision creating large paintings with detailed faces to encourage people to interact closely with the artwork. By doing so, I hope to change their perspectives and make them see the world in a more meaningful way.



You use a secondary frame in the background in some of your paintings. Why is that?

Where I grew up in Limpopo, there are huts with an arch doorway. Those are usually designed with arches around them. These are similar with European churches, they are considered as form of holy, a crown or a halo. In my interpretation, whenever I meet, interact with, or know a person, I envision them as a good person, I see a halo around him or her. I see people in a positive light. I would envision halos around them, not literally, but with the idea of the arches.


I'm also curious how we can see your figures in a gender perspective.

I want the viewers to decide for themselves whether they see a female or a male. When they see a male, it says a lot about their history. When they see a female, it also says a lot about their history. It's also a matter of understanding yourself and how you perceive things. We all see things differently. So I'm asking myself whether I'm seeing things based on how I grew up, or if I'm seeing them the way they truly are.


I don't see special characters but figures who have a common identity.

Nowadays, we are bombarded with a lot of distractions. Technology, jobs, and various other things compete for our own individual attention. But at our core, our basic instincts men are to create and to survive, and women are naturally inclined to nurture and protect. So, I was asking myself how I could tell one subject about the overall universe in my own understanding.


In the grand scheme of things, nothing really matters except our connections with others, finding a life partner, passing on knowledge to our children, and ensuring the continuity of our species. In the midst of all these distractions, we often lose sight of ourselves in the pursuit of material things. This disconnect from our true selves can lead to a loss of identity. However, by recognizing our shared humanity, we may discover something greater than ourselves, something we have yet to comprehend.


What is the connection between the figure and the background?

Where I grew up, there's a lot of nature. I often find myself thinking about the land and its vast landscape. Now, I am living in a flat apartment, almost like a concrete jungle. I remember growing up in a place where I felt at peace and happy, but I miss it now. When I paint, I often revisit my past and incorporate elements that used to evoke certain feelings in me. Depending on my mood, I could paint the background in one color as a nostalgic feel of a certain space, imagining what to put there and which space I want to create. It is like a dream state world.



How do you compose in general?

I lay out three to five canvases, and I would like to make different kinds of drawings, roughly. Then, I choose the one that looks correct to me. Sometimes, I go back to my old drawings and see which one works. It depends on how I'm feeling that day. I also take pictures around places where I used to spend time with friends to see how the composition is. I look at everyday lifestyle, how people move, how we sit, and how human being move individually. 


You have a new series in which you portray a woman in a very expressive, vibrant dress.

I met a her in Cape Town at the after-party of the Inverstec art fair; she's a model. She's from the same rural area as me, and I was amazed by her journey. I took pictures of her because I felt a solid connection to her and wanted to capture her essence without any distractions. I wanted to understand her role, but we had little time. Painting her reminded me of the ceremonies in my culture, like weddings and funerals, where we wear beautiful clothing. In the Nguni language, we call brides "Makoti," and I wanted to depict the feeling of celebrating someone.


You use charcoal, acrylic, and pastel to create a composition. I'm curious how you can blend these materials together.

When I'm painting, I usually experience mixed emotions, and I've learned to incorporate those emotions into my paintings. For example, when I use charcoal, I use my finger to make marks on the painting. The pressure I apply gives the painting a different texture.so I might use acrylic or pastels on the painting and then blend them together with charcoal. This process gives the painting a mix of intense and innocent feelings.


What does black joy mean to you?

First, I have to question, am I truly black? My skin tone isn't black, it's brown. So what is black joy? Is it an ideology that has been imposed on us, or is it simply a social norm that we feel compelled to conform to? I don't really identify with the concept of black joy, to be honest. I struggle with it because I am constantly surrounded by africans in South Africa, and I witness their struggles, which are often rooted in financial freedom, living conditions, and government policies.


When the question comes to Black art, I do believe that it is currently thriving and growing rapidly. What sets Black art apart is its deep connection to our cultural roots, making it more authentic and celebratory in the modern world. Culturally, black art is flourishing and serves as a learning curve, encouraging Black people to better understand themselves.


How do you think about creating in the term of resilience?

In my opinion, it brings me peace and raises many questions, fostering an open-minded approach. It prompts me to ask a lot of questions and helps me envision what I want to achieve at the end of the day. It keeps me alert and I honestly wouldn't know what to do without painting. It grounds me.


Through your works, you address the psychological impact of consumerist culture.

At the moment, we're having a video call. Personal interaction, like face-to-face conversations, is not possible due to technology. It seems like technology is removing the fear of rebellion. We are losing the ability to connect, understand each other's energy, communicate effectively, or discuss important topics related to well-being. This is concerning and something we should address.