Àmọ̀kẹ on Queer Identity, Embodied Art, and Curating as Radical Care
January 12th 2026
By Emmanuel Daraloye
Àmọ̀kẹ recently spent a long, deep conversation with us—sharing their path, the core of their creativity tied intimately to the body, and how they dream of an art world brimming with connection and compassion.
Interview Section
Àmọ̀kẹ recently spent a long, deep conversation with us—sharing their path, the core of their creativity tied intimately to the body, and how they dream of an art world brimming with connection and compassion.
Interviewer: Switching between different creative forms must be tough. How do you navigate this?
Àmọ̀kẹ: It is definitely a challenge. But over the years, I have come to understand that some experiences call for a certain way to be voiced. I try to listen and follow what is calling out the most to me at that time. They are different sides of the same coin. I want to write sometimes, but language can be limiting, so I draw. Other times, community is the best way to express a feeling; it flows like that.
Interviewer: Your artworks have interesting titles. How do you arrive at these titles?
Àmọ̀kẹ: The title is part of the creative act. When I’m in that flow state, listening to my body, the words and the images emerge together. Heavy is the Body came from a literal feeling of physical weight of being stuck inside your head during a difficult time. “Pretty Girls Make Graves” came from feeling a kind of exhaustion that sleep refuses to fix, as seen in the piece. The title helps provide more context for the work.
Interviewer: Your artworks have interesting titles like This Dreamer is Tired, Madhouse, and I Am a Spirit, My Possibilities Are Endless. How do you arrive at these titles?
Àmọ̀kẹ: They arrive with the work. The title is part of the creative act. When I’m in that flow state, listening to my body, the words and the images emerge together. “Heavy is the Body” comes from a literal feeling of physical weight of being stuck inside your head during a difficult time. “Pretty Girls Make Graves” came from feeling a kind of exhaustion that sleep refuses to fix, as seen in the piece. The title helps provide more context for the work.
Interviewer: Can you elaborate on what it means to create in alignment with your body? What does that look like?
Àmọ̀kẹ: It means I have had to unlearn a lot of things. Decentering being, looking or feeling a certain way before creating, perfectionism really is a huge hurdle for so many artists. My body knows when a work is done, not some external idea of what an artwork or poem should look like. It tells me when I need to switch mediums, when I’m too in my head with words, my hands need to work on other mediums. It is also about documentation. Especially as a Queer Nigerian. There has been a lot of erasure or watering down of queer history in Nigeria. I believe it is one of my duties as a creative to truthfully document the times we live in, to have our own archive of everything, art, film, all around history.
Interviewer: You’ve led workshops, including Between Bodies with The Sage Space and Exploring Queer Joy Through Rituals. What ties these projects together?
Àmọ̀kẹ: How do we get safe enough to show up as our true selves? Is a question that never leaves my mind. Between Bodies was a collaborative event with an organisation focused on neurodivergence and mental health. We talked about what intimacy, love and belonging mean, especially when people in the relationship are neurodivergent. This experience felt very real. It felt amazing. Exploring Queer Joy Through Rituals was really something, a space for queer people to present with one another by being proud of who they are. We exchanged personal healing methods and rituals. For me, it all loops back to empowering people. Helping them recognise their stories carry weight—and handing them the means to tell those stories, boldly and freely. Curating spaces that allow us to honour our individualities and identities is the core objective of these events and my work in general.
Interviewer: You’ve participated in several group exhibitions. What does it feel like to have your personal work displayed in those settings?
Àmọ̀kẹ: It feels validating, like I am alive and my work is as well. When my works are shown in spaces like Radical Love, which focuses on queer love and existence, I know the audience truly gets the context. Exhibiting at places like The Creative Commune in Lagos and later in Birmingham highlights the different facets of my identity and the varied viewers. It’s a reminder that the personal experience is also universal. It tells me that my story can connect with someone thousands of miles away.
Interviewer: Looking ahead, what’s next for Àmọ̀kẹ?
Àmọ̀kẹ: I’m interested in going deeper into my creative career. I am thinking about how to more explicitly merge my practices. My first solo exhibition, maybe. I want to study more. I know curating goes beyond just putting artworks together. I would love to understand the fundamentals of curation. The goal is to further cement myself into the art space as someone deeply passionate about art and artmaking.
