

Sean Mpetiwa’s works are self-portraits of a generation: vibrant, fleshy, ever-moving figures that map the everyday life, joys, anxieties, and survival strategies of Zimbabwean youth. His paintings both celebrate the liberated energy of youth culture — the nightlife, the fashion, the loosened relationship to the body — and ask uncomfortable questions about what gets lost from tradition along the way. For him, painting is both therapy and research — compositions formed by morning walks, observed gestures, club outfits, Instagram snapshots, and subtle art-historical citations.
When did you first feel that creating art is not just a hobby, but something you must follow as a life path? I was born creative. Growing up, I was always making something, always creating. But things became serious in high school. In my second year, I met Takunda Regis Billiat. He introduced me to Troy Makasa and Moffat Takadiwa. I used to join their Saturday sessions where they showed me the basics. That’s when I realised I wanted to take art seriously. I was around 18, just finishing high school, and from that point I started treating art as my actual life path.
Did you study formally at the National Gallery of Zimbabwe or any art school? Or are you entirely self-taught?
I’m a fully self-taught artist. I’ve learned a lot from established artists around me, but I never went to an academy. I’ve always felt that what matters most is not the degree but whether an artist has their own voice — and finding that voice took time. It came through critiques, through listening to people who were more experienced, and through looking at youth culture, which is what my work is mostly about. I think I found myself while trying to understand my own generation.

Your style is incredibly expressive — not only the brushstrokes, but the way emotion spills across the canvas. How did this dynamic, energetic language develop? When I paint, I’m not thinking about the sketch. I’m thinking about life — the noise, the movement around me. I study human movement a lot, how emotions sit inside a body. Recently, I’ve also been exploring how we politicise our bodies through the chemicals we use, especially in skin treatments. That’s why some of the figures look fleshy, almost meaty.
I use both brushes and my hands. The hands came from necessity — there were times when I had no brushes, and I had to figure things out. That rawness stayed with me. Painting with my fingers created a different relationship with the canvas; it made the movement more direct, more emotional.
Your figures are recognisable: distorted, dreamlike, sometimes cartoonish. Where do they come from? I’ve always been drawn to cartoons. Some characters just jump out subconsciously. But I’m also concerned with creating my own world — a space separate from the environment I’m in, where I can observe youth culture more clearly. I want distance, perspective. My figures help me create that separation.
You often talk about youth culture. How do you see the life of your generation in Zimbabwe today, and why do you want to depict it?
I’m trying to understand how we behave, how we connect with society and with each other. My generation is like an upgraded version of our forefathers — we’re exposed to more influences, more cultures. We live in a multi-cultural and multi-traditional world where it’s hard to point to anything and say, “This is our culture.”This makes me ask questions: Why are we abandoning some traditions? Why are we adopting others? What are we gaining? What are we losing? I paint to explore those questions.

I see many women in your paintings, many nude or semi-nude bodies. What is the meaning behind this? A lot of it comes from observing how young people dress today — on Instagram, in clubs, on the streets. Fashion is changing fast, and I document those shifts. Some things I paint simply because they are honest to what I see. And yes, I’m also into fashion in my own way. Sometimes I design clothes just for myself to make a statement, to see how people react. It’s fun — but painting is the deeper thing for me, more like therapy.
Your scenes often feel joyful, even celebratory. Is this something you intentionally portray? Yes and no. Youth culture is full of joy — we love to enjoy, drink, go out with friends. I’m trying to find the beauty in the chaos. Why do we celebrate so much? What are we trying to fill? Or are we just refreshing our minds? I’m both celebrating and questioning at the same time.
Your color palette is incredibly vibrant, full of complementary tones. How do you choose your colors?
I love vibrant worlds. Colors come from the clothes we wear, from the energy in the places I visit. When it comes to skin tones, I don’t see black, brown, white. I see flesh — the fragility under the skin. I’m inspired by Francis Bacon in that sense: the meaty, raw humanity of a figure. That’s what I’m trying to achieve.

Your figures blend into the background — the contours dissolve into the atmosphere. Is this intentional? It happened through experimenting. In my early days at Mbare Art Space, I had no brushes and had to paint with my fingers. I made many mistakes, covered them, and reopened the canvas months later. That’s when I realised I can work with movement, with transparency, with dissolving edges.
I want my paintings to breathe. I use inks, which are hard to over-layer, so I leave negative spaces, washes, letting the background talk with the figures.
How do you approach composition? Sometimes you are very painterly, sometimes almost graphic. For me, painting is like music. You need harmony, distance, rhythm. Background, foreground, conversation. Something must lead the eye. I listen to music while I paint — loudly. I used to dance, so movement enters naturally into the painting. Before I start, I dance a little, get into my zone, then begin.
You referenced Western artists in recent works. I saw one painting inspired by Chagall and another classical European piece. Who are your artistic heroes?
My number one is Basquiat. Then Francis Bacon. And Monet — especially the Water Lilies. I love how Western painters approached composition, space, nature. Sometimes I combine figures from different historical works and reimagine them in my own world, with my own narrative.

Nature plays a growing role in your works — lush plants, outdoor scenes. Why nature?
At first I was scared to paint nature. But looking at Monet gave me courage. Now I’m asking myself: How do we connect with nature? Why do I feel drawn to it? I don’t have the full answer yet. I just feel it’s part of me, part of my environment, part of my spirit. When I take walks, I watch leaves moving, light shifting — I keep those memories until they land on the canvas.
What is your creative routine? I create one painting per day. I wake up early, take a nature walk, take pictures, observe people, observe movement. Then I sketch in monochrome. When I paint, I pick from the sketches but also let things happen. You need a relationship with a canvas — it must talk back.When I’m stuck, I stop. I talk to Moffat, ask for critiques, or go home to family. Inspiration comes back eventually.
What is it like being an artist in Zimbabwe today? The biggest challenge is materials — they are extremely expensive. And art is not popular in our communities. Very few galleries exist: First Floor Gallery Harare, the National Gallery — but opportunities are rare. Sometimes you have to assist an established artist just to get materials. That can make you lose focus. It’s hard, but we keep going.
How does the artistic community support each other — for example, in Mbare Art Space?
We help each other when we can. Sometimes with materials, sometimes with critiques. But it’s also easy to lose focus, because supporting others can take time away from your own work. Still, community is important. Established artists push me — they challenge me to grow.

What does success mean to you? Success is simple for me: having the materials I need and being able to create freely. The certificates I’ve received are encouragements, not endpoints. Creating itself is the success. Being able to speak through the canvas is success.
What are you working on now, and what are your plans? Right now I’m taking a short break, but my biggest plan is getting an artist residency. My work changes with environments, so I want a new place, a new atmosphere. I want to travel — anywhere. I just want to experience something new so that new ideas can come.







