Tawanda Reza: I see myself more like a commentator

Tawanda Reza moved from Bindura to Harare, where he encountered a very different rhythm of life, a stronger artistic environment, and new possibilities. It was also there that he found his community around Animal Farm Art Residency. His practice brings together printmaking, textile-based work, painting, and stitching, while reflecting on the stories, struggles, and everyday experiences of the people around him. For Reza, making art is a way of observing, remembering, and carrying things forward: preserving ancestral knowledge, cultural stories, and traditions through contemporary forms before they disappear from the lives of younger generations. 

How did your journey with art begin? I grew up in an artistic family, so art was already around me as a child. My father used to work at home, and when I came back from school, I would ask him if I could help. He always allowed me to sit with him and try things. Later, after high school, I studied at the National Gallery of Zimbabwe. That was the moment when I began to understand art more seriously.

What did studying at the National Gallery give you? It gave me a starting point. In the first year, we learned many different things: photography, painting, and sculpture. Then in the second year, we had to choose a major and a minor. I chose painting and printmaking because I was interested in both carving and painting.

What was important there was that they taught us to think beyond what was immediately available. If you did not have the usual material, you had to look around and use what was there. It taught me not to stop just because something is missing.

I also had mentors who encouraged me. Admire Kamudzengerere was one of them, and Doris Kamupira taught me as well. They helped me understand that art is not only about technique. It is also about finding your own strength and your own way of seeing.

You are originally from Bindura, but later moved to Harare. Why was that move important? Bindura is my hometown, where I grew up. But there is not much exposure to art there. I felt that if I stayed, nothing would really move forward. There were not many people around me who could guide me, challenge me, or connect me to other possibilities. After I finished school, Admire called me and asked if I had a studio or a place to work. I said no, so he told me to come and share his studio. For me, that was a very important step. In Harare, I started meeting different people, artists, and visitors from other countries. I started seeing how other artists work, how people speak about art, and how connections are made. I think without that community, I could have been lost.

What does this community give you? It gives you the courage to be yourself. You meet people who are also trying, also working, also searching. You realize that you are not alone. For young artists, that is important, because sometimes you need guidance before you even know what kind of guidance you need. Animal Farm and the wider community around it became a place where I could understand myself better.

Your practice moves between painting, fabric, stitching, and printmaking. How do you choose the medium?

At first, I worked mostly with paint on canvas. But there was a time when I could not always find the material I needed, so I had to adapt. I started collecting off-cuts from tailors, from people who make clothes for churches and communities. That is how fabric entered my work. For me, it was not simply recycling. It was also a way of continuing. I did not want to stop working because I lacked material. Fabric became interesting because it is strong, durable, and it carries memory. Now I am also combining paper and canvas, especially through printmaking and stitching. I do not want to limit myself to one technique.

Your works often move away from the traditional square format. They feel open, irregular, almost floating. When did you begin to break away from the rectangular canvas?

I started thinking about that while working with fabric. Many artists present their work in a square or rectangle, but I wanted to break that boundary. With fabric, I felt I could let the form move differently. I am also interested in sculpture, because I grew up seeing my father working with sculptural forms. So I think the shapes also come from that background.

What does Mararamiro ne Magariro mean in your practice?

It means: Life in Style. My work comes from everyday life: from what people do, what they face, and how they try to make ends meet. I see myself as someone standing in the middle, witnessing what is happening in the community. But it is also personal. I have my own stories, my own memories, my own struggles. So I combine what I experience personally with what I see around me. Sometimes an idea can even come from a dream. Other times, it comes from listening to people, walking through town, and seeing how prices are changing and how people are surviving.

Your work can feel political, but not in a direct slogan-like way.

I would not say I am political in the sense of standing in front of people and saying, “Let us do this” or “Let us do that.” I see myself more like a commentator. In a football match, the commentator does not play the game. He watches what is happening and speaks about what he sees. I observe what is happening in everyday life, in the community, in the country. Then I try to express that. I am not forcing people to think one way.

Do you feel a responsibility to show people outside Zimbabwe what life there looks like?

Yes, in my own way. I want to share my culture and life experiences from Zimbabwe. There are many stories in my culture: taboos, family structures, things people are allowed to do, and things they are not allowed to do.

I also want to speak about young people of my generation. Many people have nothing to focus on, and that can lead them into drugs or other difficult situations. I feel lucky because I have art. I have the studio. I have something that keeps me occupied and moving. Through my work, I also want to say to young people: find something, hold onto something, do not give up on yourself.

You use fabrics that already had a life before becoming part of the artwork. What interests you in these materials?

I like materials that already carry a story. Sometimes I visit a friend and see an old blanket or fabric they no longer use, and I ask if I can have it. I prefer that to collecting from bins, because if fabric has been thrown away, it may be damaged by chemicals or dirt. But when I get it from someone I know, I can also know something about its life. For example, I once used a blanket from my childhood. That kind of material is not empty. It brings memory into the work.

Family structures, rural and urban life, and cultural memory are all present in your practice.

I feel that part of my role is to preserve ancestral and cultural stories from Zimbabwe. Many young people today learn a lot about Western culture, and that is not bad, but sometimes they do not know enough about their own culture. I want to bring those stories into a contemporary form. If young people visit an exhibition, they can see something from their own culture on display. They can recognize it, ask questions, and maybe learn from it. If nobody keeps returning to these stories, they slowly disappear from everyday life. 

What is the biggest challenge of being an artist in Zimbabwe today?

One of the biggest challenges is the market. Every artist needs to sell, because they need to live and continue working. Another challenge is representation. If you do not have representation, you have to be very strong. For me, the lack of representation should not stop me. I started other small projects. I grew oyster mushrooms. I moved around the community with my bicycle because I needed transport. I did different things to support myself because I knew that if I did nothing, I would not be able to continue as an artist. That is why community is important as well. It is hard to work alone. You need people, you need conversations, you need links.

When do you feel successful?

For me, success would be having my own land and building my own studio. A place where I can work peacefully. I am still growing, still learning, still meeting people, but in the future I want to have my own space. Not because I want to be alone all the time, but because when you have your own space, you can think differently. You can also invite other young artists to come and work. Animal Farm taught me that: come together, help each other, climb the ladder together. I would like to do that for others one day.

Is there an exhibition moment that stayed with you?

Yes, in Zeitz MOCAA, Cape Town, South Africa, in 2018. It was close to Zimbabwe, but it still felt different. It was my first time seeing another country in that way, and it opened my eyes. I also made my first sales there, which made me very happy.Traveling is important. When you travel, your eyes gain energy. You learn new things, new materials, new ways of seeing. I think going to Europe will be another moment like that for me.

You are preparing for your first time in Europe. How do you feel about that?

I feel very excited. It will be my first time outside Africa, so I am hoping for the best. I know I will meet new people, see different environments and cultures, and maybe people will look at my work differently.

What is the difference between painting and printmaking for you?

The stories are the same, but the surface and the mindset are different. Printmaking needs more planning. You must be smart and careful, because if you cut the wrong line, you cannot undo it. With painting and fabric, there is more freedom. I can draw, paint over something, change the surface. Usually, my process has three stages: drawing, painting, and then stitching. Stitching is the final stage. Once I stitch, I feel the work is done.

And what is your hope for the future? 

At the moment, I am spending a lot of time with printmaking. I am trying to understand it more deeply, but without leaving painting behind. I want the work to keep growing.  My hope is to have a strong audience for my work, people who really want to see it and understand it. I also hope to have my own space one day, a studio where I can work and build something for the future.