IN THE LONELY WORLD OF A CREATIVE ACTIVIST

With a strong sense of purpose, albeit dogged by pecuniary challenges, the Lagos-based artist challenges the cultural stereotypes of masculinity and gender roles. Okechukwu Uwaezuoke writes

Serenaded by the waves and at the same time savouring the serenity of his backside studio, Victor Ayara enjoys working in his backside studio in the Ajah area of Lagos. “I can only connect and create in solitude, and this gives me the leverage to be at my peak when creating,” the self-described multidisciplinary artist explains.

He begins his typical day with prayers after rising from bed at 6 or 7 a.m. After breakfast, which comes after a brief timeout in the gym, he sets to work in this studio. Sometimes boredom sets in, and he takes a break by strolling out onto the beach and moving closer to the surging waves. Here, he listens not only to the sounds of the waves but also to music. Now and then, he exchanges banter with a few people around the beach before heading back to the studio to work until tiredness or boredom forces him out again.

“I do not have an inspiration bank where I store ideas,” the Ondo State-born artist says. “Just as we all know, it’s all there in the air and all one has to do is to lift his spirit and leap in the air to catch it. Meanwhile, there is nothing new under the sun. We can only refine and merge ideas, but most of the inspiration comes from adaptation. For me, I am as inspired during the hard days as I am during the good ones. I just love the process and the flow that comes with living life.”

Art, or rather the inner urge to express himself as an artist, has always stalked Ayara since his childhood years. There was, of course, the huge influence of comics, cartoons and graffiti art, which seemed to ramp up this budding juvenile inclination. This was further aided by his somewhat introverted nature in primary school and the consequent self-distancing from his peers. “Eventually, I find myself scribbling and trying to recreate the things I see around me. Thus, art has been my escape route whenever I find myself alone, and it makes me happier to create art to fill the space inside me.” 

Looking back to those years, he recalls the inner thrill he experienced selling his first artwork to a secondary school acquaintance, who, though he didn’t pay much for it, still appreciated the value he had for it. On the downside, his secondary school teachers looked down on his choice of art as a course of study in a tertiary institution. 

As he grew, his drawings and use of colour got better and better until, in 2021, he eventually obtained a Higher National Diploma in painting from Yaba College of Technology, Lagos.

Ayara is now forced to fight for relevance in a talent-glutted Lagos art scene. For him, there can be no question of basking in old glories or climax moments. “I am constantly competing with – and against – the best version of myself. This means that I have to keep honing my skills.”

Of course, it would be too early to expect him to have been part of many exhibitions at this stage of his career, though he was featured at last year’s edition of the Signature Beyond Art Gallery’s Sogal auction. Yet, on the bright side, he has done up to four private portrait commissions for notable figures. This is in addition to the mural commissions, which he receives more frequently.

When the 26-year-old paints, he visualises himself in every character and, somewhat playfully, inserts dandelion stalks in their mouths or somewhere around them. Take, for instance, one of his paintings, titled “Peace, Bond, Royalty”. It was done in acrylic and his favoured spray paint on canvas and depicts two anime-like topless muscular male figures with glazed eyes donning purple berets. Somehow, the dandelion stalk that seems to stick out from nowhere between them lightens the ambience of the painting and thus tones down the menacing presence of the duo.

Another painting, which is as purple-themed as the former, is titled “Masculinity Is Royalty”. It depicts a lone muscular male figure with his head slightly tilted in a pensive mood, sporting an unbuttoned violet shirt over a white singlet.

“As a result of this personal connection I have with my works, the subjects thus far have been African black people,” Ayara discloses. “I convey messages bordering on toxic masculinity, spirituality, purpose, identity problems, depression, solitude, amongst others, in relation to how they specifically affect the black community. My work is also a channel for activism as I am passionate and emotional about various social issues affecting men’s health.”

Beneath the artist’s obvious romanticisation of black people and stories lurks his inner aspirations for an idealised self. Perhaps this is what explains his tendency to explore this whim through the diversity of black people embedded in their different social and cultural settings.

Meanwhile, simplicity – in both form and content – sets the tone in the artist’s paintings. One predominant colour, which is purple, intensifies and blurs where necessary. This is while at the same time contrasting with the skin colour of the male subjects. And speaking of these male figures, their facial expressions seem undecided between serenity and loneliness. But there seems to be a deliberate attempt to tone down with macho attributes by inserting rings in their ears and even noses.

Thus, Ayara delves into the male identity issue and questions the cultural stereotyping of masculinity and gender roles. For instance, why, for instance, should the male sex be forced to labour under the burden of societal dogmas? Who assigned these gender roles? Why shouldn’t men be allowed to express their emotions like their female counterparts? Why is there too much pressure on men, which often leads many to depression?

As the second eldest of the five children of his parents, he does what he can to ignore these pressures and focus on his art practice. Not even his predominant use of spray paint stifles the urge to explore new mediums. “The process of researching and working with the medium brings a challenge every single time, which I enjoy,” he says. “I continually look forward to discoveries born out of curiosity and new ways to tell stories.”

Still about his use of spray paint, his first experience of the medium was in 2013, just after he left secondary school. “Even though I never had enough money for materials back then, I always knew what would work for me. It was fun and I made lots of mistakes, which I felt bad about, but that was just the beginning. I have loved every part of it, from making mistakes to engaging in the suspense the medium creates every single time I practise with it.”

Meanwhile, daily subsistence, which he says has been “majorly bad,” remains a struggle for him, and sometimes he finds himself beset with doubts as to whether he will ever thrive in this Mammon-worshipping environment. But he never let such thoughts get in his way.

Plodding on nonetheless, he looks up to such artists as Victor Ekpuk, Victor Ehikhamenor, and Uche Joel Chima.