NO, BUT REALLY ?

Three small words that have the potential to turn an approach into an aggression. 

Today, as people and ideas continuously move and migrate across the globe, and heritages are increasingly hybrid, one might presume a question like this would be redundant. But a quick glance at the headlines reminds us that debates around place, belonging and identity are far from resolved. Indeed, they are raging. 

So, when, in 2023, I was asked by UK arts organisation Artichoke to curate a season of their major public art project The Gallery, on the theme ‘No But Where Are You Really From?’, I jumped at the chance. 

The resulting exhibition, which was installed on thousands of bus stops and billboards across Britain, comprised 11 works by artists originating from four continents – each of whom reacted to the question in a unique way, but all of whom explored ideas of the self, community and home. Of the parts and places that we are born with and to. What we might cultivate and celebrate, what we might resent and reject. 

The works inspired conversation and sometimes argument, but always, I hope, that most important of responses – a desire to understand. 

One of my first commissions was Larry Achiampong, whose prolific practice employs film, photography, live performance, aural and visual archives to explore ideas surrounding class, gender, cross-cultural and digital identity – and who came immediately to mind when I was first approached about the project. Larry’s contribution to the exhibition, Pan-African Flag For The Relic Travellers Alliance, is a bold and optimistic flag for a speculative geopolitical alliance of the near future. The work is part of an ongoing project that examines postcolonial perspectives, and the enduring connection between those born within the African continent and those of the African diaspora. In the colours of the continent – black, green, red, and yellow – the flag is symbolic of and inspired by the recent and growing phenomenon of returning, flourishing diasporas.

In contrast, David Blackmore’s work saw him remove the national insignia from his British and Irish passports. On the announcement of the Brexit vote in 2016, David wrote to the European Commission, offering to renounce both his citizenships in return for a European passport. On being told that no such thing exists, he was inspired to create his own. “I no longer consider myself either Irish or British, I am European”, explains David of the motivation behind the piece European Pa55port – a document of his response, which turned performance into protest, and protest into performance. 

Passports of course not only represent citizenship of countries, but also the freedom to move between them. The concept of movement recurred through the exhibition, including in Pattern Recognition by Mumbai-based Reena Kallat, whose practice often explores political and social borders, and the way they can violently cleave through land and peoples. This preoccupation is perhaps not surprising for an artist whose family went through the Partition of India, the aftershocks of which are still felt today. In her piece, Reena appropriates the Snellen Eye Chart format, using shrinking silhouettes of different countries to create visual representations of Henley’s Passport Index – the rank table of nations based on the travel freedoms of their citizens. The work draws attention to the ever-changing, perpetually unequal geopolitics of access and mobility and, in its landscape version, where charts for 2016 and 2023 were placed together, it starkly illustrates the UK’s diminished status since its fateful Brexit vote.

Kenyan-born Ian Wainaina’s work is also deeply rooted in his experience of movement and migration. Home is Far Away builds on Ian’s ongoing exploration of the multifaceted nature of identity and the need for a sense of place – drawing on his time living in both Germany and the US, and on having found a sense of self within these predominantly white, Western societies. In the photograph, two girls gaze towards the vast Atlantic Ocean, leaving the viewer unclear whether they are looking forward or back – towards a new life or one left behind. Due to a shortage of materials in Ghana, where this photograph was taken, Ian was forced to use expired film – a risky move that, once you’re aware of it, further adds to the sense of uncertainty and ambiguity.

Ambiguity also plays a key role in Lori Gordon’s work. As part of her inclusive practice, Lori is building an archive of dissected conversations – fragments of things she has overheard or been told, that she publishes and presents as posters to be read and shared, again and again, and without direction. An evolution of this ongoing ‘Snippets’ series, I Want To Turn my Identity Off invites the viewer to make their own interpretation of this bold yet ambiguous statement. All of Lori’s work connects back in some way to conversation and the passing on of stories, and one of the most thrilling aspects of this piece is the idea that, through people’s different readings, many stories may emerge.

Plurality, and an interrogation of identity is central to Fiona McBennett’s work So… Where Are You Really From?, in which the artist explores the feelings of rootlessness and cultural dysphoria she has experienced as a biracial woman who grew up in contrasting cultures. To create the work, she morphed her face with the AI-generated faces of ‘Miss Average’ from each of the countries people have presumed – and insisted – she must be from. In doing so, Fiona created a multifarious ‘self-portrait’ that confronts and challenges all those who have made her question her cultural identity.

By presenting several versions of herself, Fiona was at once able to both hide from, and draw, attention. A similar concept lies at the heart of Jaipur-based Amit Sihag’s work JUST US!, where two agrarian subjects wearing exaggerated, brightly coloured tribal masks, are contrasted against a dull rural background. By masking these characters, Amit also pulls focus onto them and inspires curiosity in their story. The photographer grew up around farmers and cattle, documenting the struggle of life in villages and fields. Amit’s agricultural childhood deeply informs a practice that he considers to be a meditation – a contemplation and celebration of the fortitude of often faceless, and effectively disenfranchised, communities.

Fortitude is a word that applies perfectly to Azraa Motala’s work, which often manifests as powerful portraits. The artist’s multidisciplinary practice explores the polarity of East and West, history, politics, empire, and orientalist depictions of women. She is particularly interested in the lived experiences of British-South Asians, including ideas of identity, culture and heritage, within the context of the contemporary Western space. In her forceful self-portrait Brit-ish, Azraa negotiates her position as insider and outsider, familiar and foreign. She stands proudly in the unmistakably bucolic landscape of the English Lake District – dressed in a salwar kameez and headscarf, staring the viewer squarely in the eye, holding the Union Jack, and challenging the notion that she cannot be all of the above. 

The belief that this might not be possible is one often held by people who have a very particular idea of what their national identity looks like. These same people often fear the evolution of cultures and hold on tightly to their flags for constancy. It is this concept that guerrilla artist op.x plays with in his work Fragile. Preferring to stay anonymous, op.x creates interventions in public spaces, often using found objects and everyday materials to make art accessible, and humour and mischief to inject a much-needed dose of levity into the daily life. With Fragile, he uses packing tape to create the St George’s Cross – a symbol typically associated with English national pride, courage and strength – to highlight underlying political and societal fragility and defy those who denounce change as damaging. 

Rhetoric about countries being broken is commonplace today, particularly as politicians ratchet up their election campaigns, with immigrants often bearing the brunt of scaremongering and blame-laying. It was this hostile environment that inspired Osman Yousefzada’s work More Immigrants Please, which seeks to shift the conversation around migration away from the negative. By reappropriating the visual language of barricade tape usually associated with exclusion, and including the symbol of a welcoming rug, he conveys a bold message of hospitality.

A British-South Asian, whose practice engages with the representation, rupture and reimagining of the migration experience, Osman explores the socio-political issues of today, through modes of storytelling that merge autobiography with fiction and ritual. As well as being an acclaimed artist, Osman is a celebrated writer whose first novel The Go Between was recently published. This gives some insight into how important words are to him and why, as the child of migrants, he is so keen to introduce positive vocabularies into the debate around human movement.

During this year’s Venice Biennale, Fondazione Berengo and the Victoria and Albert Museum co-present Osman’s solo show, Welcome! A Palazzo for Immigrants. Here, through a body of textile, print and sculptural works, he looks towards more optimistic futures of crossing borders, coming together and healing that I believe, more than ever, we must all hope for.