Gresham Tapiwa Nyaude impressed me with his unique style, which transcends classic Black figurative art. His works are not only vibrant and colorful but also carry political messages that reflect the resilience of his community. While preserving the naivety and honesty reminiscent of his five-year-old stage, Nyadue effectively challenges the contemporary struggles and hardships he and his community face.

Your friend Wycliffe Mundopa encouraged you to start an art career. How did your journey begin?

I studied at the National Gallery of Zimbabwe Visual Arts Studios, where individuals could explore their creativity and develop their artistic skills. At first, I wasn't sure if I truly belonged there. I could sketch, but I doubted whether I had the formal training necessary to succeed. I had always viewed myself as more of a street artist than pursuing it as a career, even if my father was also an illustrator. However, my high school friend, Wycliffe, stood by me during this uncertain time and encouraged me, saying, "Gresham, you know what? We can turn this into a professional career!" After graduating, I entered the art scene and began exhibiting my work internationally.

The first thing I loved about your works is that they go beyond the classic Black figuratively. How did you find your own voice?

I wasn't looking for it, because something hidden within me sparked a desire to explore and push myself forward. I am naturally curious, and while others often show Black figures in a certain way, I wondered if I could paint them differently, using a mix of colors. My artistic background includes different styles that go beyond traditional images. I'm interested in how people portray Black figures, but want to show my thoughts uniquely. I also focus on the human figure and how art relates to human experiences and emotions.

I also recognize that your style incorporates many references from art history. When I saw your paintings, Basquiat came to mind, but who are your role models?

I'm a big fan of Francis Bacon's style, primarily how he uses figures to convey his message. It highlights the importance of the body in expressing ideas.

Bacon once said, "I believe in deeply ordered chaos." How do you feel about this quote?

My work focuses on navigating chaos and finding balance. As I create, I often reflect on the world we live in, which can feel overwhelming and chaotic. Our world is filled with anger and frustration, but I attempt to depict these emotions beautifully and harmoniously.

Your works express our era's fragmented reality and the identity's complexity.

My perspective on this comes from my background. My grandfather was born in Malawi and later moved to Zimbabwe, which has led to an identity crisis for me. My work is deeply informed by the Shona language, which is prevalent in Zimbabwe. I draw inspiration from the proverbs and wisdom of the Shona culture. In my work, I explore elements of identity and how they are expressed in the context of politics and culture. Understanding the nuances of what I am communicating is essential, especially when addressing issues with others. This understanding is crucial in a discourse that involves sensitive topics.

How can you address political issues, hardships, and struggles through your art?

In Africa, politics plays a significant role in society. Everything is heavily monitored, and there are still many issues regarding human rights. This fact makes discussions about these topics very sensitive. To address these issues, it's essential to approach them with care. I know that the British took many symbols, which creates a gap between what people learn and what they are expected to believe.

When I think about my art, I consider my audience. I aim to help them see my point of view by using phrases and elements that resonate with them. I also want to include different experiences, even those that might seem unusual, so everyone finds something relatable. I want my people to understand the larger cultural stories and the realities we face.

Yet you depict a colorful and vibrant world in your composition.

When I paint, I want to go back to my 5-year-old stage. I try to maintain that childlike wonder when I wake up each day. For example, if you asked a five-year-old to draw a car, they wouldn't worry about the make or model; they would just draw a car. That simplicity and joy in creativity are beautiful, highlighting the difference in perspectives we can have as we grow.

It's fascinating that you want to return to childhood and capture that naivety and honesty. Yet, you also have profound and valuable life experiences. How can you balance this childlike honesty with meaningful expression?

To me, this is how it feels right in my gut—it's a pure expression of innocence. These are my good deeds already, and they have a certain playfulness to them. To be aware of all these aspects and still express myself, I often wonder about my identity. I feel like I'm on a journey of self-discovery through art. I'm still searching and trying to find myself in this process.

What rules or principles do you follow when composing, and which do you wish to surpass?

I live in a world of notes instead of drawings and want to express my feelings through painting. I notice that social media can influence my creativity more than my sketches. Still, I have a strong desire to play and explore. I'm interested in common themes in the international art scene. Still, I want to examine the meaning of colors, objects, and forms in a political context—how they interact with people and reflect the experiences of those around us.

How do you work?

I work on multiple paintings simultaneously—usually a minimum of six. I like to have several pieces in progress simultaneously because they often connect with each other. When I'm in the studio, I want to be engaged in the process, laughing at the world. I want to experience the joy of discovery and feel surprised by the outcome of my work. I incorporate various symbols, motifs, and elements in my art because I believe I am implicitly present in each painting.

Once I finish a piece, I often invite a friend who is also an artist to provide feedback. They can see things I might overlook, and I find their insights valuable. Ultimately, what matters to me is whether it's a good painting. Each piece has its own life, and while there may be various interpretations—mine and the viewers'—the essence of the artwork is what I'm striving to convey.

You have some objects, chairs, and teeth that you depict repeatedly. Why is that so?

I repeatedly paint these objects to explore specific ideas. The chair, for example, symbolizes power, not only political power but power in a family system, which is also a political structure. As a child, I spent much time with my grandmother, who had a special chair. When she was away, we would sit in that chair, which was very meaningful. It represented her authority as the strongest figure in our family.

The chair shows the importance of the matriarchal system in Africa and also raises questions about my identity. Sometimes, there were expectations for me as a son, but I question if I really fulfill that role. It makes me wonder: if my role is to care for everyone, why do I have to work hard to move to a higher position?

What happens when a painting doesn't work for you?

When I'm in the studio, I try to solve problems as they arise. It can be frustrating because it often takes a month to see results. When a painting doesn't work, it can affect your social life, and suddenly, you find yourself discussing it with everyone around you.

The challenge is knowing what you want to express, but you may not translate well onto the canvas. That's why I keep several pieces going at once. Having multiple works in progress helps keep the creative flow in my studio. I often reflect on how I can take my ideas further and keep hoping to improve.

I've read that if you have a block in painting, you start to write. What is the relationship between painting and writing?

For me, writing is all about how words come together. It's not the same thing as what I experience with my work in painting. Sometimes, when I can't articulate something on canvas, I write down what I've been trying to express. This process has helped me navigate through many challenges.

Art can sometimes feel like a drama. When it doesn't work out as I envisioned, I analyze various elements of my work, such as color choices, angles, and composition, to figure out what's going wrong. I'm jotting down my thoughts as I work through these challenges. When I read what I've written, it inspires me to pick up a pencil. Acknowledging a problem is not a weakness; in fact, recognizing it is often the first step toward solving it.

Now that you are bringing vulnerability into our conversation, how can you express your emotions on the canvas?

I've always been interested in the challenges in life I can tackle. I don't believe I can save the world, but I care deeply about connecting with others who share similar experiences. My goal is to be open about the struggles I face and put my thoughts into my work so that people can see through my perspective. I want the world to learn from my experiences. Today, I have access to resources that allow me to reflect on my issues and strive to be as honest as possible. That's the foundation of my work.

What is the power of art?

I connect with people around me, even if they don't know about it. I've tried to have an open studio where people can come in and see my work. When they visit and express their opinions about it, I feel it helps build a community. The power of art lies in its ability to evoke emotions and create equal connections. Once we begin to discuss that connection, I'll start to move forward together.

What does Black joy mean to you?

I had a really good day in the studio. You know those moments when you go in and everything just clicks? After a productive session in the studio, it feels like joy.

How does your daily routine look?

I usually wake up early and spend time online responding to emails and connecting with others. I also enjoy meeting fellow artists and engaging with the public. The challenge of being an artist is that you can spend too much time in the studio, focusing only on your work. Stepping out, making friends, having conversations, and sharing laughter are essential. That's what keeps me balanced.

You are very connected to the present or reality, and your works also remind me of street art or graffiti.

Graffiti is a big deal for me because I'm a massive fan of people and their expressions. While I work on the streets, I collect thoughts and inspiration. That's how I receive the world around me. There's a new wave of graffiti evolving in our region, though, in reality, it hasn't fully blossomed yet. When I step back and observe, it feels like everyone is eager to make their mark on the walls. It's reminiscent of New York, intersected by vibrant artworks, as if those walls have stories to tell. This energy is something I want to capture and remember because I come from that same cultural background.

What is the purpose of the letters and the words in your works?

In primary school, we learned to write correctly. I didn't think it was necessary to achieve perfect cursive writing. Now, when I create art, I realize I can express myself freely. I intentionally don't place elements in my work, and I've learned that people are often drawn to these peculiarities. They find it interesting to ponder why something is misspelled or presented differently. It's a psychological trick I really enjoy.

You are the winner of the 2024 FNB Art Prize, which means you will have a solo show in Johannesburg. How do you feel about it?

I felt like I was finally becoming something or someone at that time. I thought, "Wow, this is amazing! People are noticing me now." I never thought I could achieve this, so I was overwhelmed with gratitude—people see me, and that recognition meant a lot to me.

Explain the work for me, please. It is Postage stamp from 2023.

My inspiration for this project came from Zimbabwean postage stamps. I looked at the stamps they produced during our colonial era, specifically before 1980. One day, I reflected on how these artifacts were created and what they represent. I've always been interested in postcards and how politicians are depicted on them. They often appear powerful and commanding. These images are ubiquitous; they are everywhere in our surroundings. The banners and displays all emphasize aggressive power, and I realized this influence has developed over time. This sparked the desire to create something as a form of protest.

Can we read your paintings as a part of resilience?

I believe they are. I often discuss these matters in my own life and within my community. It's significant because we now have access to self-help resources. We never learned about these things before; they used to be overlooked.

How is the Zimbabwean art scene today?

We're going to create a change in a place that experienced some of the highest inflation in the world. Being an artist was not a viable option. But now all the significant works are displayed in large spaces and galleries. Art has become a major focus in Zimbabwe, often more so than in other places, where being average is the norm. We have to ensure that we create a project that resonates locally and internationally.

What things are actually in your mind?

Currently, I am working on canvases for the solo show in Johannesburg. But I will give paintings to Shanghai to make a show next year. I come out with a wave, it's unbelievable.