“The forest remembers what the city forgets.”
Lina Omotayo
In Lina’s work, buildings bleed into bark, and time grows moss. Her landscapes are not real they are remembered. She paints with mist, memory, and longing for a world where concrete never won. Her greens are never just green.
“My body dances what my language can’t hold.”
Tari Marem
Tari’s paintings slice movement into strokes dancers become pigments, flesh becomes flight. Born in Port Harcourt, raised in Marseille, her work lives between rhythm and rupture. The canvas doesn’t frame her figures it barely contains them.
“My body dances what my language can’t hold.”
Akintola Stephan
Akintola portraits are ritual. Images drenched in high-gloss ribbons of variety of colors abstract, genderless, voiceless, yet deeply present. A post-human hymn to identity uncontained. His works ask: Who are you without your edges?
“Texture is where I bury what words won't carry.”
Solange Eger
Eger’s monochromes are volcanic restrained at first glance, but tectonic beneath. With palette knives and thick silence, he layers grief, resistance, and restraint into works that press back. His pieces don’t explain they insist.
Tóyà
Tóyà