Karimah Ashadu

Written by Abby Goeser

Karimah Ashadu is a Nigerian-British filmmaker. She not only makes films, but she includes sculpture and performance in her work. Karimah is based in Hamburg and Lagos, and has participated in various residencies such as De Ateliers in Amsterdam (2014-2016). Her work has been exhibited and screened in renowned museums and film festivals such as the MoMa, New York, Centre d’Art Contemporain Genève, Faena Art Center and Ann Arbor Michigan. Her work discovers sensitivities in the mundanity of the everyday and dialogues on self and place.

Abby Goeser: For my feminist media production class we are trying to reach out to various feminist filmmakers, but especially women who are involved with the experimental aspect of filmmaking. I wanted to ask you how you identify with those terms?

Karimah Ashadu: I think that feminism is an important term especially regarding history and women’s rights. I’m not sure whether it’s a term that’s overly used nowadays and that’s not to say that I am not for women’s rights because I am, I am for everyone’s rights. But it’s the same where I shy away from being called an African filmmaker. I guess labels are things that people use to identify things so it’s sometimes useful, but not sure I want to start doing that with myself and with my work.

A: Would you just say that you’re a filmmaker then?

K: I am an artist.

A: One thing that I noticed in your work is you use a lot of different mediums. As a new artist I am really interested in that. I am wondering how you decide to integrate so many different things and when you knew that approach was right for you.

K: I regard the tools that I use - to communicate whatever I want to communicate - as a kind of language, and when I am trying to explore something I am not necessarily sure whether I start with a medium. I start with what I want to communicate and then I am instinctively drawn to whatever that is, whether it’s performance, film, or sculpture. It depends on the mood that I am in at that time, and how I want to interact with whatever I am interacting with. For instance, a couple years ago I was in Switzerland. I really wanted to engage with my surroundings, and performance felt natural, so I approached that project with that medium.

A: Do you think that when you make something it starts with a concept or do you have something you are interested in and then the concept builds from there? What does your process look like?

K: I think it’s a mixture of both. Some work I hold in my head for years and I kind of know what they feel like. I can’t exactly control what I want them to look like, because that depends on the conditions of making that work, so I have to leave a little bit of room for chance. I’ll have an image in my head or a general feeling of what I want to explore. There might be a specific time where I am really interested in darkness, which I am at the moment, and then I’ll have an image in my head or a kind of vibe that I am going for, something that I want to convey. And then with just those few starting points, I am very definite about my subjects or my location, or how I want a protagonist to look. I’ll know certain things, but other things kind of just go along with the process.

The way that I make films, again it is a little bit of both; some of it’s planned, some I have to leave open. The film I am working on now, it’s a new work called “Power Man”. I went out on the street and I found these “area boys” - local gang members - that I wanted to be in my movie and had to convince them. I’ll see someone’s face and someone’s posture and the way that they walk, and I’ll know that the person has to be in my work, so I’ll find a way to convince them. It is little things like that. I shoot a lot of guys - I guess I am drawn to the idea of masculinity. I am drawn to what that entails. I think the reason why I shoot men so much is because I am really intrigued by the social construct of masculinity and the vulnerability that comes with that.

A: Yeah I definitely see that masking of the vulnerability in the piece King of Boys (Abattoir of Makoko) and Power Man. How do you think art has added to your life? As a college student I am deciding which route I want to go in in my career. I know I don’t want to do the same thing every day and I want to have a job that forces me to live my life in a certain way. I find that being an artist, it allows you to really experience and feel the world and I think that a lot of other jobs don’t give you that opportunity to be as present or as in touch and really feel things. So my question is - how do you think that being an artists transforms your ability to be present, but also be in touch with yourself, who you are, and what you care about?

K: I can only speak from my own personal experience. I think being present and being conscious is a very active thing. You know, I’m not sure that all artists are attuned to that. I don’t think that it’s the career that makes you conscious; I think that it’s the person. I think it’s you. You can be present in whatever you do, whether it’s being an artist, a checkout girl, a lawyer, whatever it is. You can bring that consciousness there. But I kind of understand what you mean. I think that being an artist is something that is a complete joy in the sense that it is something that is woven into my being. I mean, everything you do in life is a choice. So I definitely chose to be an artist, but I really do feel like I was born as an artist, and at some point you have to make that choice whether you follow that route or not. With that choice comes so many things. It is definitely a very enlightening process, but it’s also sometimes very painful. It requires a lot of soul searching and questioning. It is constantly being present and constantly asking yourself very hard things and being confronted with things. But then in the same sense - yes, I am able to plan my life the way I want it. I am able to make my work and explore whatever. I am very grateful I am able to do all the things I want to do, but it definitely isn’t a walk in the park.

A: Was there ever a point where you just had to go for it? Or was there a time where you were forced to give yourself the permission you needed to do it?

K: Yes, I think life forced me to make that choice; I think life often does. But the critical moment was when I was working a job where I probably wasn’t very happy. I started exhibiting my work a lot more, while still working at the same time. My employer let me go and then I thought, what am I doing? Why am I doing this? Why wouldn’t I spend more time on my art career and see what comes about it. Let’s just go for it. But it was really a scary jump to just say that I am giving up a monthly salary, and that cushy feeling and I am just going to go out in the world. So it was really scary once I made that decision. I just kind out felt like things started to fall into place after that. I think it’s really about making that decision and sticking with it.

I think a lot of people don’t have the conviction to stick with it. It’s not always going to be great. You will hear a lot of no’s, but it’s about not getting hung-up when that happens, and moving on to the next thing straight away. It’s about focusing on the yes instead of the no.

A: I noticed that you move around a lot and I was wondering how that informs your work?

K: Personally I am really drawn to making work in Nigeria and on the African continent because I think it goes back to my own personal history and trying to understand where I fit into that context, having grown up in the diaspora. As I spend more and more time in Nigeria, there are so many stories to uncover, and so much inspiration. I think it’s somewhere I’ll keep going back to make work until I feel like that’s done. I’m not sure how far down the line that will be. There are many artists who feel like they need a certain set of conditions to make work or to be inspired. I am definitely one of those artists where place is very inspirational - I often need to travel to make work.

A: I really like how a lot of your work is about the mundane and I think that really goes with what you were saying about how no matter what you do you can find joy and awareness within it. I also really like how your film work is often times on your body or on a mechanism of some sort. In the pieces The Station and the Studio and Lagos Sand Merchants I have certain ideas of why you do that, but I am curious about your intention?

K: Attaching cameras to my body was definitely a starting point early on in my career was definitely a starting point. I don’t really do that now so much, because the work has evolved, but I am definitely interested in the camera as a kind of extension of my body, as a kind of third eye, or as the camera having corporeal capabilities. I think now looking back on it was maybe quite elementary, but definitely a very pivotal start in my filmmaking practice. Obviously, my mechanisms are a continuation of that. Now the way I make films I could still make mechanisms, but I feel like the moment I start to get boxed in, I switch things up. I didn’t want to just be known as the artist who makes work in this way. Sometimes I get a little bored with things, or my interest shifts. I am much more interested in other “mechanisms” now, such as light, or a lack of light, or how the body moves in and out of this lack of light.

A: Have you always made things? Was art something you intended to study or was an artist something you came into being later?

K: No, I think it was at quite a young age. I doubled with being a spatial designer for a while, which is what my masters is in. That was really great because that’s where I discovered film. I think I’ve always been an artist. I’ve always loved to draw, but it wasn’t really nurtured at a young age. I come from a Nigerian family and what that means is that you are either a doctor, a lawyer, or an accountant or banker. But my mother saw that I was quite creatively inclined, and I was always in my own world as a child, she didn’t really know what that meant.

But it came to the point where I was about sixteen and it naturally started to flow. I was taking art classes in school and really flourishing. They could see that it was a real thing, I was getting A’s, and I was doing very well. So when I wanted to study it at university and I combined it with history of art, my parents didn’t really understand why or what it meant, but I convinced them that that was where my happiness lay, and that was what I wanted to do, and that I would do nothing else. I don’t know, it just always felt very natural for me to make work. Now that I look back on it, whenever I was drawing or painting or doing anything creative I was always very happy and it always felt fun. I used to think I wish I could spend the rest of my life doing this, spend the rest of my life always feeling this way. And then I kinda felt like I had to do something serious and I felt like that was a fun thing that I couldn’t stay in. And yeah, now, when I look at how far I’ve come -- I mean I probably still have quite a long way to go -- but I am definitely completely in awe of where I am now. I have my own practice and my studio, but it didn’t come out of nothing.

But I kinda feel like life should be fun, and your work should be fun. When you are doing what you are doing you should really enjoy it, and your soul should feel really happy that you’re doing that thing. That’s how you know that you’re on the right path. I really don’t believe in sitting in a job where you are unhappy. I feel like everyone is born with their own skill and their own individual gift, whether that is being a lawyer or an accountant or a doctor or an artist, and it is up to you to listen to that inner voice and to cultivate that.

A: Do you think that your work is mostly for you or other people?

K: I think I make work for myself. I don’t make work for other people. So it’s a very selfish thing. It’s quite an indulgent thing. But I am also aware that I have a strong desire to share my work and for it to be experienced, otherwise I wouldn’t show it. I come from that certain point where the work is very much for me. I never make a work and think how will they like it? I think, do I like it? Does this make me excited? Am I interested?

My process is probably very funny to watch because when I have a new work, or I’ve just shot something, I am really excited, but also incredibly nervous. And then when I’m editing I’m thinking, this is terrible, this is terrible. Terrible. Terrible. And my assistant, she walks in on me doing this, and she is like, “Are you ever going to stop doing this? For the past eight years, I can see you saying this is terrible, and then it’s the greatest thing you have ever done.” But I think that nervousness is what makes the work. I get excited when I am making work, I know it feels good, and I know it could be good. I’m not entirely sure sometimes, and then finally when people experience the work, not everyone is going to like it, some of them hate it, but people are intrigued by it, and I like that. So that the final puzzle in the process of my work is how it’s experienced, and people being influenced or inspired by that. I think that’s really exciting.

A: What does your everyday life look like?

K: Generally my everyday life is when I make my work, when I am in my studio, and I am working. I work in very short bursts, and I work very fast so I can spend a lot of time just not being in the mood, but still being in the my studio, and doing things and thinking. And then suddenly, I’m in the mood, and I can spend the next half an hour creating really, really fast, and I’ve done half the work. Sometimes I am very conflicted with this type of process. I used to get frustrated with that because I wanted to be in my studio at 10am and work till seven and get everything done. But I had to realize that that is not the way that my mind or my body works. So I don’t force myself to do things. I appreciate that process, and even if I’ve got a great big show, and it’s super important, I know what my process is like. Now I don’t get freaked out by it and I kind of just allow it to happen.

A: Did that take you a long time to realize?

K: It was about four years of trying to force myself to do things a certain way. I mean I am naturally nocturnal but I force myself to be a day person, and that’s probably why I can’t work like that. In the night when everything is quiet, then I can just power through work like crazy. I think you read about people’s processes or you see how your fellow artists work, and you think oh that’s how I need to do it, but it’s different for everybody. So the older I get, the more evolved I get. I am much more forgiving of myself. I am much more appreciative of my own individual process and I am trying to just let that unfold how it wants.

A: Okay great, thank you so much for your time. I am going to give a lot of thought to your responses. This is for the archive but also it’s for me.

K: You are welcome, I hope I was able to help.

A: Oh my goodness, yes very much. Thank you so much, it was lovely to meet you, goodbye!

I am a Gender, Sexuality, and Women’s studies major with a minor in Art Studio at the University of California Davis. I am interested in performance art and sculpture as well as film, so interviewing Karimah and asking about her process was extremely helpful for me. I tried to ask her questions about what it means to be an artist in the world. It was very inspiring hearing her insight and understanding one can apply consciousness and awareness to every discipline. Perhaps being an artist is less about what one makes, and does, but is determined how one thinks. This interview was conducted in Davis, California through skype in October 2018.