Born Ann-Maree Quaynor, AMKMQ has been drawing, painting and creating for as long as she can remember, however, it wasn’t until she turned 19, that the young multi-faceted artist, decided to take her visual art seriously as a professional career. “I grew up not speaking very much, I was a very visual thinker and I would voice everything I wanted to say out loud through painting and drawing. When I would upset anyone, I would apologise through a painting” she reveals to me over a late-night FaceTime call, while she was getting ready for bed.
Like many other African creatives, choosing art as a career meant upsetting her African parents who had a grand plan for her to attend impressive universities, however, after a year at the University of Warwick studying Sociology, AMKMQ came to find that she was nothing if she wasn’t creating. Following this, she had to compromise by promising to attend an Ivy League college that would merge both a commercial career and an art one.
“I realised I was unhappy at Warwick, I didn’t really feel like myself. I would see my friends at schools like Central Saint Martins and would go back to school and feel empty. I knew my parents would only let me go to art school if it was attached to an Ivy League school. I actually grew up reciting all the Ivy League schools, and have been prepared from birth to go to one. I went to Warwick because my dad did not let me go to Berklee when I got accepted”
Now a student at the Brown University and the Rhode Island School of Design, AMKMQ is finally at a point in her life where she is producing art in different forms: from creating zines with her bestie & engaging in performance art, to exploring videography & even trying a hand at DJ’ing during this quarantine period. The girl has done it all, and done it all by herself too, so now, she’s ready to take up space in the art industry unapologetically.
Her work spans across different themes, which she has named herself with the most noteworthy one being, Purity Politics. In this side of her art, she explores themes of feminism, choice and purity in relation to her experience as a West African woman. Growing up all around the world, AMKMQ is always constantly searching for herself in her art. She was born in America and raised in England & Nigeria to Ghanaian parents, which made the concept of home incredibly difficult to attain.
“I was bullied quite a lot growing up because of my accent, it was like when I was in Nigeria, people saw me as Ghanaian but when I’m in Ghana, then I’m Nigerian and when I’m abroad, I’m a black woman”.
It wasn’t all bad though, her upbringing also sparked her interest in the colonial history of both Nigeria and Ghana. Led by her rage towards the injustice and the erasure of our culture, she became very preoccupied in creating art about a version of herself and of her people which could have existed if we were not colonised. The helplessness from feeling like she can’t change the past, actually gave birth to her love for afro-futurism, which allows her to explore a future that is incredibly diverse and open to her own interpretation.
“When you are trying to find history about Ghana or Nigeria, it’s mostly colonial writers or English writers and that’s just one side of a bigger story that’s now been erased. This is what led me to afro-futurism. If I can’t change the past and the present is not really entirely me, then I can dream about creating the future I want through my art”
A running theme in AMKMQ’s work is the use of her body as a medium to create art. Growing up, she attended predominantly white schools, where there were no black female references she could admire or look up to. Her style also irked her mother, who believed in the traditional forms of femininity, and didn’t approve of the way AMKMQ liked to dress. However, AMKMQ would find support in her parents over the years as they would support and fund her art career by paying for supplies and also introducing her to people they knew in the art world. The unwavering acceptance and love from her parents plays a strong pat in AMKMQ’s confidence today, as she speaks so highly of their support.
This feeds into her Platonian philosophical outlook of life where belief in duality and the ability to detach from our physical bodies is possible; as the body or objects become tools through which art is brought to life, which is explained in her short film, ‘Purity Politics’.
As you’ll find in any aspect of life, the 21 year old has already had her fair share of men being out to silence her. When she was 16, a distant male friend stole one of her artworks, passed it off as his own and auction it out for £2000. This really enraged her, and fuelled her drive to create everything in her own way, and on her own terms. “I love teaching myself to do things, it’s like crack” she reveals with a laugh. “Everything I do now I taught myself because it’s just fun to learn and it’s nice as a woman to say, I did that myself because men will try to claim your work”.
AMKMQ has tried her hand at a number of things, but her main love at the moment is videography and collating zines under the moniker ‘AVOCADHOES’ with her best friend, Ayo Sule. She’s always wanted to be a director, and happily runs through a list of her film influences from Gasper Noe to Tarantino.
“I like art and cinema that feels situational, when you experience the moments with the people in the film. My work a lot of the time is about evoking emotion rather than showing it. That’s what I’m really trying to build up now with my video work, videos that evoke emotion from anyone who watches”.
For her, she doesn’t think she needs to explain her art to anyone – in fact she’s done with answering questions about what inspired her work because sometimes it’s nothing other than just for the sake of creating. When she first started being public with her art, AMKMQ felt a huge pressure to always have a detailed description of each piece and if she didn’t, then she wouldn’t post it online. This affected her work a lot because she was then left feeling a bit pretentious.
“I stopped thinking like this at the end of last year because my perception changed. In one of my studios, we were talking about art as religion. Creating not to have shit to say or seem talented, but more for the sake of art. Like art as a devotional object, something to admire. Knowing you don’t always have to have an answer for why you created something, or know immediately why you did. It’s like the sake of creating is so important.”
AMKMQ also has the benefit of enjoying visibility in different art scenes around the world, because of her connection to different places. She’s worked in the Lagos, Accra, London and New York art scenes and mixed and matched ehr experiences from these places into her art. “The Accra art scene is soo much better than anywhere else I have experienced, in Lagos it’s very gate keeped and only a certain set of artists stay getting all the deals and attention. No one pays attention to younger artists, especially not women. But in Ghana, people are so much more accepting and everybody really be on their grind, so there’s space for everyone to eat literally”.
As the world slows down due to the ongoing ‘rona pandemic, AMKMQ is keeping her art and creativity alive through constantly learning and creating. For her, it’s a great time as any for creatives especially because she feels the heavy use of digital media may give rise to a post-pandemic movement characterised by digital art. While we wait to see what great ideas are birthed from this, you can catch up with all things AMKMQ and her art here.
Featured image credits/Clawdia Marine and Lena Morton
Tami is a lover of women, music and astrology. Tweet your fave female artistes at her @tamimak_
Rigo Kamp’s Marathon video is an intimate Afro-juju revival that pays homage to Sir Shina Peters and stamps...
Last Friday, Rigo Kamp, a NATIVE uNder alum and one of the architects of an equal parts nostalgic and...
Last Friday, Rigo Kamp, a NATIVE uNder alum and one of the architects of an equal parts nostalgic and refreshing sound released his self-titled debut EP, delivering a propulsive fusion of Alte, R&B, Funk, and Soul-infused rhythms.
Featuring previously released singles “Morning Sun”and “Summer”, the six-track eponymous EP executively produced by Odunsi The Engine sees Rigo lean heavily into his element as a sonic alchemist, jumping from silky falsettos to gritty grooves without losing an ounce of cohesion, and ultimately stamping the Abuja-born, Lagos-based singer-songwriter as a mad scientist of sound.
Just last November, Apple Music named Rigo Kamp as its Up Next artist, an acknowledgment that underscored his potential and confirmed what the tastemakers and underground scene already knew. Weeks later, he delivered an exhilarating live set for Spotify Fresh Finds in Lagos, proving he’s just as compelling live as he is in the studio.
On “Marathon”,the refreshing opener to the Rigo Kamp EP, Rigo borrows the bounce and swagger of Afro-Juju legend, Sir Shina Peters’ golden-era, fusing nostalgia with re-imagination to birth a vintage performance that feels like a private party for two, where it’s just Rigo, and you.
Get an exclusive first look at the video for Marathon here:
Togo YEYE is a community we are building for us by
Togo YEYE, a creative duo formed by Lomé-based creative director Malaika Nabillatou and London-based...
Togo YEYE, a creative duo formed by Lomé-based creative director Malaika Nabillatou and London-based photographer Delali Ayivi, is a conceptual publication that was created to empower and champion Togo’s young fashion creatives. Since its inception in 2021, Togo YEYE has released several personal projects and has also partnered with a number of brands to further its hugely imaginative aesthetic mandate. For their latest collaboration, Togo YEYE teamed up with textile printing company VLISCO to present Blossoming Beauty. Tagged as a love letter to Togo’s creative community, the campaign captures Lomé’s scenic beauty alongside VLISCO’s vibrant prints with the aim of connecting the feminine grace of nature with identity and artistry.
What does Togo YEYE mean?
Malaika Nabilatou: My name is Malaika Nabilatou, I’m the creative director of Togo YEYE. I’m Togolese and I was born and grew up in Lomé. I see myself as a West African creative director and I’m working to be the best in a few years. Togo YEYE means new Togo in Ewe, one of the most popular languages spoken in the South of Togo.
What inspired you to create Togo YEYE?
Malaika Nabilatou: We started this project, my friend Delali and I, 5 years ago. We just wanted to show that Togolese youth are also creative. Togo YEYE is a community we are building for us by us. It wasn’t just a project for Delali and I. It’s become something for the creative scene of Lomé. Lomé is like our studio.
What role does Togolese culture play in your creative process?
Maryline Bolognima: For me, Togolese culture comes first. For example, in the South, there are the people of Anero. If you come, you can go to Anero. In the North, there are the Evals, so if you come to Togo, you’ll learn a lot.
What’s the most exciting part of working as a team on projects like this?
Malaika Nabilatou: I need to tell the truth, we dreamt about this campaign before [it happened]. When VLISCO contacted us, we were like wow. I can’t really explain how thankful we are to VLISCO for trusting us. Because it’s a risk that they took by trusting us, making that campaign here with our team and honestly we are going to keep it in our hearts for the rest of our lives.
Claudia Sodogbe: For me, it is the first big contract of my life that I had with Togo YEYE. I still remember, on the last day of the shoot, I was feeling nostalgic about separating from the teams and the others. It went well in any case, and I’m very grateful to have been on this project.
What has been your proudest moment as part of Togo YEYE?
Malaika Nabilatou: I think the proudest moment I had with this campaign was when I saw the result first on the website. When I saw the story, I was like “wow, we finally made it.”
No matter who you, these parties provide a safe space to let loose without fear of objectification or...
The crowd marches along on the dancefloor, vibrating to a pulse that is both familiar and electrifying. It...
The crowd marches along on the dancefloor, vibrating to a pulse that is both familiar and electrifying. It takes a second to identify Grammy nominee, Rema’s “Ozeba,” pouring out of the speakers and whipping the crowd into a frenzy as it takes on new life as a turbulent EDM track. The crowd growls and screams in approval of the DJ’s remix, yet another banger in a night filled with back-to-back hits. Hands in the air, sweat dripping from glistening bodies, smoke floating around the dancefloor and young people gyrating with reckless abandon, Element House provides the people with the release they deserve and they reward it with an undying loyalty to its rhythm and raves as they keep coming back.
Party culture has taken on new dimensions in Nigeria over the last two decades as a reaction to economic, social and cultural progressions. This evolution of the way we party is significant considering that Nigeria is a society that lays heavy emphasis on certain accepted standards of moral behavior, rooted in culture and tradition. But that has never once stopped a good time from happening. Millennials and older gen-z will remember the street parties and carnivals of old, usually held at the end of summer holidays or in December, where music by TuFace, Mo’Hits, Akon, Shakira, Lady Gaga and 50 Cent were the staple, among others. There were certain songs automatically expected from any DJ worth his salt otherwise it was not too far-fetched to see a DJ, with his equipment on his head, fleeing for his safety while being chased by an irate mob of partygoers.
The more things change, the more they stay the same. These carnivals and street parties might have been phased out but the idea remains the same while the power and influence of communities powering party culture in Lagos and Nigeria at large has only gotten stronger, especially with the advent of social media. The Block Party series–started in Lagos, Nigeria as the Mainland Block Party–has become the go-to event to celebrate youth culture and foster connections that cut across multiple African cities and walks of life. Today, with curated events in Ibadan, Abuja, Lagos, Accra and others, a community of partygoers is assured maximum enjoyment whenever the Block Party organisers announce an event in their city of the month. The people will always return to where their tastes are catered to, bringing along friends, family and newbies eager to bask in the atmosphere of loud music and togetherness.
In 2012, Warner Bros. Pictures released Project X–a film that follows three friends and high-school students who attempt to gain popularity by throwing a party which ends up escalating out of their control and reaching epic proportions. This idea propagated by Hollywood would go on to influence several house parties thrown in Lagos during the mid to late 2010s. The idea that with the right DJ/music playing at the right venue and with just the right crowd, then immortality was possible–a party so grand that it would be spoken about in glowing terms for years to come until it became lore. Today, house parties are more intimate and controlled, the degrees of separation between attendees reduced by a mutual friend or WhatsApp group they all have in common. From game nights to karaoke sessions to kinky sex parties, whether it’s at Balloons & Cups, a Vogue Boys pool party, or a get-together by the ‘Lagos on a Budget’ IG Community, the role house parties play in the ever evolving party culture is not insignificant, creating a pipeline that feeds into the much larger raves which weekends in Lagos are becoming synonymous with.
Whether it’s Element House today, Mainland House tomorrow, Group Therapy next weekend, WIRED or a host of other house and EDM inspired movements, partygoers are spoiled for choice when it comes to where to indulge their fundamental music tastes in a secure and controlled environment. Nothing is off the menu and a good time is the only badge of honor worth collecting. The increasing popularity of the rave movement in recent years is testament to the fact that it works for both organizers and attendees. The Covid-19 lockdowns changed the way Nigerians party; after months of being isolated from their communities and having to socialize in more intimate and private spaces, it’s no surprise that raves, with their underground nature, became the outlet of choice for several young people as soon as the world opened back up. According to Tonia, a medical doctor and frequent raver living in Lagos, her first few times at parties following the end of the lockdowns were not fun. “I was partying with caution, wearing face masks constantly and carrying hand sanitizer around. It became a much better experience subsequently when everything relaxed and soon enough, I was back enjoying the time of my life at Lagos parties.”
Unburdened from the heavy spending, bottle-popping culture that characterizes Lagos nightlife and cloaked in the embrace of judgment-free anonymity and numbers, raves have become a safe haven for a community of partygoers determined to turn up in the midst of the sheer craziness of living in this day and age. For Michael-Peace, a brand & creative assistant and frequent raver, the appeal goes beyond a need to unwind and the feelings of peace he experiences at raves. “Whether I’m listening to the DJ or just watching the crowd move to the music, it’s a very mindful experience for me,” he says.“I’m grateful to just be there and appreciative of how we can all be one community or family for that period of time.”
The appeal of the rave scene is its inclusivity and it’s a common theme for the new wave of parties exploding in Lagos and environs. No matter who you are or what you stand for, these parties provide a safe space to let loose without fear of objectification or discrimination resulting from socio-economic and political differences, misogyny and other less elegant occurrences which are part of mainstream Nigerian nightlife. This is important to Tonia who, on multiple occasions, has been prevented by bouncers from entering clubs without a male companion. “I’ll always prefer raves, they are much freer and nobody is performing here. There’s no need to show off the number of bottles you bought like there is in a club. Everyone just wants to turn the fuck up and have the time of their lives.”
For five or six hours, the disco lights, turbulent music and fellow ravers provide solace from the outside world. “Dancing the night away” is not merely a suggestion but a divine mandate from the gods of the rave. It is almost impossible to emerge after such an experience and not want to do it again. The music beckons all and sundry to come out, purge yourself of all inhibitions on the dancefloor, then return home and spread the gospel of the electronic music scene to all who might listen. In Michael-Peace’s own words: “There are people I’ve put onto raves and who loved the experience and constantly thank me for introducing them to it. Once you get hooked on it, you’ll never want to let go.”
Party culture in Nigeria continues to evolve as the new wave of parties mark their time and place in history. But the street parties and carnivals of yesteryears are not to be forgotten. The power of community continues to connect the old wave with the new wave, ensuring that actual people remain the focal point of these events, and party goers can enjoy nightlife experiences uniquely tailored to their ever changing wants and needs.