Announcing Support for Colombia’s Cultural Heritage Sites

Tauck Ritzau Innovative Philanthropy believes intercultural dialogue, economic development and social health can be achieved through cross-cultural efforts and an emphasis on sustainable community development. From 2021-2022, TRIP will extend grants to 10 heritage communities in Colombia. In partnership with our longtime partners Tourism Cares and Collective Impulse of Bogotá and Medellín, our support ensures these destinations will join Tourism Care’s Meaningful Travel Map for Colombia, a resource which enables travelers to find experiences, products and services that make an impact in the local community. Adding these destinations to one’s itinerary generates positive outcomes for local citizens and proves what TRIP stands behind: that the decisions one makes when traveling can make a difference in the world.

What is this project aiming to achieve?

First and foremost, this project endeavors to realize social transformation and inclusivity. Second, we aim to help promote the success stories of Colombia’s regional social enterprises by leveraging digital platforms, media and the voices of changemakers at the helm of this progress so that they may serve as models for other countries seeking similar change. As the world recovers from the COVID pandemic and seeks a reset geared toward sustainability and inclusivity, TRIP will help community leaders highlight the stories, methods and practices that are moving the needle and proving what is possible.

Why Colombia?

Tourism Cares, the largest nonprofit in the United States focused on sustainability launched its Meaningful Travel Map of Colombia in 2021 in partnership with the U.S. travel industry and ProColombia after assessing the unique strengths in Colombian social enterprises, growth in inbound and regional travel, and readiness for a pivot to sustainable tourism. In fact, Colombia is one of the leading countries with a national Sustainability Policy. Colombia was selected worldwide for the Tourism Cares delegation in November 2021; this fall, leaders from around the world will visit to launch the project and meet with social entrepreneurs.

Who are the key stakeholders?

In addition to Tourism Cares, the project’s lead organization, Collective Impulse is co-directing the project. Collective Impulse is a young, innovative nonprofit dedicated to sustainable impact investments. Their local formula includes vetting social enterprises, using storytelling for business change and supporting entrepreneurs and cultural change agents. TRIP has been grateful and enthusiastic to join these globally recognized leaders in forwarding this project.

We are grateful to Tauck Ritzau Innovative Philanthropy for their support of our dream of “Change Sessions” for the visibility and empowerment of our dedicated communities –  building peace and preserving the cultural heritage of Colombia. Our videos and storytelling are a huge opportunity for Colombia.”

– Collective Impulse CEO Lizeth Riano

Who will benefit from this project?

The 10 heritage communities and social enterprises directly impacted by this project span the country:

Son Bata, Mangle and Moravia Tours of Medellin, Breaking Borders of Bogota, Jaguar Shamans of the Amazon, Rafting for Peace of Caguán, Wasikamas of Nariño, Marimba of the Pacific, Tambores de Lamba of Palenque, Ninha and Bazurto of Cartagena and Chiribiquete National Park, the largest rainforest park in the World.

We are honored and privileged to work alongside such innovate change agents and invite you to join us in supporting the future of sustainable tourism in Colombia.

An Interview with David Henry Gerson

“This is not just about art. As an American, I have taken for granted that I have always had freedom of expression. I can make posters and march in front of the White House, whereas Syrians, if they make a post on Facebook, can be tortured or arrested or their family can be killed.”
—David Henry Gerson

Mhd Sabboura aka BBoy Shadow in Lesvos, in a still from The Story Won’t Die

Q. Your film, The Story Won’t Die, tells the gripping history of a group of Syrian artists who fled Syria during the Syrian Civil War and are now practicing in various European and U.S. cities, grappling with the loss of their homeland, and coming to terms with what it means to be a ‘refugee artist.’ What prompted you to make the film?

A. My short film All These Voices, which was in a way also about refugee artists, but at the end of WWII, won the Student Academy Award in 2016 and that same year I saw a short documentary that also won that award. It brought my attention to the refugee crisis.

The current refugee crisis globally is the largest ever, with approximately 83 million people displaced. The Syrian Civil War caused the greatest single displacement of people since WWII. My parents and grandparents were refugees after that war. My father helped his father chisel in stone a monument to those who died, “Never Forget, and Never Forgive.” He later worked for the Justice Department in the Office of Special Investigations as a Nazi hunter. I grew up with the idea of accountability and that actions must be taken when something is morally unjust.

So as I started doing research for The Story Won’t Die, I remember reading about this band, handing out their own CDs on a beach in Lesvos. They were not the standard image of refugees that I had learned from U.S. media. They were rock stars, musicians, artists. I met the producer Odessa Rae, and we shared a mutual interest in art as a means of processing crisis, and we went from there.

Q. Your father was Allan Gerson, a lawyer, writer, and the son of Jewish refugees from Poland.

A. I was thinking about his legacy as I was making the film. The final shooting took place in September 2019, and he died in December of 2019. I moved to Washington, D.C. to take care of him. I took over editing and was weaving these stories together while my father was dying upstairs. That changes you. Everyone in the film was comforting me. They have been through grief, and the things they said and the kindness they showed to me after he died were some of the most comforting during those days. While filming, I spoke with them about his journey, often, as a way to talk with them about their own experiences, asking them questions and having them open up about their past.

Abu Hajar and Medhat Aldaabal in a still from The Story Won’t Die

Q. The film tells the story of artists: a Syrian rapper, tortured by Bashar Al-Assad for his lyrics, who uses his music to survive one of our century’s deadliest wars, along with other creative personalities of the uprising, a musician, a breakdancer, and visual artists.

A. The people in the film have been through literal hell. They are incredible, inspiring, and resilient creative people who in the face of despair and destruction have found a way to put to paper or sing or look boldly at the past, which the average human being maybe cannot do. That is the role of the artist in society: to look into the corners that the average human being does not have time for, like for example choreographer Medhat Aldaabal. In the midst of running from hell, sleeping on the streets of Greece, he realized he had the power to transform the darkness. You look at your situation and think, I can use this, I am not a victim. Medhat really examines the price of what it means to not turn away.

The inciting incident of the film starts in Syria, the uprising, but we continue with these artists on their journeys after they have fled. It is not just talking about the processing, but it is an examination into the act of making amazing, bold art. I find these Syrians made a choice, to turn darkness into light or some form of  expression, rather than to let the darkness fester intergenerationally. I think this is how we need to process, in all forms of art, including filmmaking. Art all over the world has the power to get people to look at themselves and at the challenges of life that we do not ordinarily have the time or wherewithal to process.

Q. And what was your own experience making The Story Won’t Die?

A. The process of making a film is one of edifying. I came to realize how little I knew at the start, and frankly how little I still know, well, it’s impossible to really grasp it all. When someone is looking you in the eyes, telling you about how their friend or loved one died because of their lyrics or some sort of a meme on Facebook … it really made me realize that the freedom I enjoy in the United States is mind boggling. I realized I can say whatever I want, and that truly is a beautiful thing.

The film was a journey for me, and I would say the strongest thing I realized was that freedom of expression is something I took for granted. I was acutely aware of this during the Trump administration, and as I was studying Assad it was making me very nervous to see how a dictator can erode those freedoms. They can be whittled away. I have become more cautious that I could lose that. That is a reason to make a film.

For more, and

David Henry Gerson’s critically lauded film of Syrian artists in exile, The Story Won’t Die, premieres this month via the American Film Institute’s Virtual Film Festival across the United States on June 26 and 27 and live at the organization’s Silver Theater in Washington, DC on June 27th. For more information and to buy tickets,

Announcing 2021 Ritzau Art Prize Artist Micha Serraf

New York, New York—South Africa-based photographer Micha Serraf (b. 1994), whose work explores the construction and deconstruction of identity, belonging, Blackness, and masculinity is the 2021 Ritzau Art Prize recipient. The artist is appreciated for their soft, Afrofuturistic work that platforms inclusivity for people of color, genderqueer, and ‘other’ identities who exist on social, creative, and mainstream peripheries. Now in its second year, the prize provides extraordinary global visibility and exposure, professional development, and career enhancing residencies to promising visual artists from the African continent.

Micha Serraf | Photograph by Paris Brummer

Africa enjoys a vibrant, expansive contemporary art scene, but there is limited funding on the continent to provide local artists with residencies. Tauck Ritzau Innovative Philanthropy (TRIP) has worked to address the issue since 2017, supporting residencies for promising artists from the continent at The International Studio & Curatorial Program in New York City. In 2020, the Ritzau Art Prize was founded by Colleen Ritzau Leth, Executive Director at TRIP in collaboration with 1-54 Contemporary African Art Fair, the first leading international art fair dedicated to contemporary art from Africa and its diaspora with editions in London, New York, and Marrakesh to provide an expanded level of support.

Due to COVID-19 restrictions, the prize was announced online today on and @154artfair.

As part of the 2021 New York edition this week, Ms. Leth, a specialist in museums, cultural affairs, and international relations, will introduce a conversation between the artist and Kneo Mokgopa of the Nelson Mandela Foundation taking place during the fair’s virtual 1-54 Forum and on its related and popular podcast.

Micha Serraf, Famba Zvakanaka, 2020, Photograph, 25 x 33 in. 

Said Ms. Leth: “Micha’s intimate yet piercing photographs are made with great sensitivity and depth and delve beautifully into issues of belonging. We are thrilled that Micha will travel to New York City to connect with ISCP and the greater arts community here, and to make new work that investigates their interests in home and identities.”

An exceptional New York City residency and global artist network

Launched in 2020 and continuing annually for three years, recipients are invited to participate in The International Studio & Curatorial Program’s highly regarded residency program in New York City for 90 days and then join a growing, lifelong network of more than 1,500 ISCP alumni in over 85 countriesand a growing cohort of recipients of the Ritzau residency.

Serraf will travel from Cape Town in October and will receive a private studio, show work in Open Studios, meet with visiting critics, speak about their art and practice in a special public talk, and participate in field trips alongside more than 30 peers from at least 25 different countries. In a special interview to and, the artist told TRIP that they intend to use their time to reclaim the word ‘alien’ and “extend a hand to undermined and peripherized identities.”

1-54 NY 2019 | Courtesy of 1-54

Jury includes contemporary African art experts

The artist was competitively selected by the 2021 jury of distinguished contemporary African art experts: Natasha Becker, Curator of African Art at de Young Museum, San Francisco; Omar Kholeif, writer and Director of Collections and Senior Curator at Sharjah Art Foundation; and Nontobeko Ntombela, curator and Head of Department, History of Art, at the Wits School of Arts, Johannesburg. Added Ms. Becker: “Serraf’s conceptual practice will yield rich rewards in a city like New York. As an emerging artist, I believe the prize offers Serraf the opportunity to take their work to another level.”

Modupeola Fadugba, 2018 recipient of ISCP Residency for Visual Artists from the African Continent during a special artist talk

A new prize in a high-profile three year cycle

The second year of the three year prize cycle builds on TRIP’s commitment to provide artists from the continent with dynamic, immersive residencies, including inaugural recipient Cameroonian painter and installation artist Adjani Okpu-Egbe (b. 1979), whose raw, expressive art investigates African colonial history and political activism. Previously, TRIP supported ISCP residencies for artists from the African continent including Younes Baba-Ali (2019), whose wry, subversive art often takes place in the public streets of North Africa; Nigerian artist Modupeola Fadugba (2018), whose affecting paintings and works on paper explore issues of identity representation and access; and Kiluanji Kia Henda (2017), a self-taught Angolan artist whose art work explores themes of identity, politics, and perception of post-colonialism and modernism in Africa and was recently acquired by Tate Modern in London.

Ms. Leth, together with Robin Tauck, a philanthropist and business leader, invests in individuals and organizations creating bold and daring cultural responses to today’s social and humanitarian challenges. A special area of focus includes artists and thinkers active in creating cross cultural dialogue, mutual understanding, and more inclusive, welcoming societies.

An interview with Micha Serraf

“I want to move away from describing these narratives from the angle of hopelessness, loss, and absence. I want to push a more celebratory narrative that is fantastical, soft, and imaginative and fuelled by the unshakable belief in an abundance.”

-Micha Serraf

South Africa-based photographer Micha Serraf (b. 1994), whose work explores the construction and deconstruction of identity, belonging, Blackness, and masculinity, is the 2021 Ritzau Art Prize recipient.

We are honored and grateful to the artist for their interview with us, special to and about their search for home and embrace of fantasy.

Micha Serraf | Photograph by Paris Brummer

Q. You fled Zimbabwe, live in Cape Town, and “have been searching for home” while at the same are embracing “being an alien.” In your work, you explore alien identities and alien peripheries. Can you talk about this notion of “alien,” and as you say, “figuring out what I am and where I belong?”

A. When we left Zimbabwe, I was almost 10 years old. My mother told us one morning, “Today is your last day of school, say goodbye to your friends.” I remember saying goodbye to my friends as if I was going to see them the following day. After living in South Africa for a couple of years we still felt, “This is not ours. We are not of here.” South Africa is mine but it is not home–Zimbabwe is home, but it is not mine. I am constantly trying to navigate spaces that appear familiar and that I can fully recognize and understand but still feel very surreal and almost two-dimensional–like a set.

Am I the only one who feels this way? Having experienced racism, xenophobia and suspicion while traveling and living with a Zimbabwean passport, I’ve come to accept that perhaps I don’t just feel extra-terrestrial but need rather fully to embrace being an alien.

Q. You say that your work is other-worldly yet familiar, soft and afrofuturistic. How is your socially concerned photography also a platform for inclusivity for other identities that exist on social, creative and mainstream peripheries?

A. My work exists as a sort of map. A navigational tool that I design around a sense of unidentified nostalgia. A nostalgia that I feel deeply for places, time, and spaces that I have never experienced or that may not even exist. I want to take familiar landscapes and well known spaces and photograph them in a way that estranges the perspectives of those who identify strongly with them.

Photography is my medium of choice because it comes with the idea of an objective documentation and truth and therein an almost implicit authority that something exists. This allows viewers to believe what they see and feel for themselves as opposed to primarily trying to relate to me.

My intention is to try and create work for people who do not feel like they belong and for people who feel like they may belong but do not fully recognize the place they belong to.  I think there is some room, or the possibility, to blend this feeling of belonging and disbelonging into an entirely new space altogether. A space where we can design and construct a space based on how we feel, as opposed to attempting to impart new and personal meaning onto an already existing (and potentially painful) one.

Famba Zvakanaka, 2020, Photograph, 25 x 33 in. Courtesy of the artist

Q. May we ask you to talk about this photograph which is a very soft and intimate but piercing photograph made with sensitivity and depth?

A. The title of this piece is a farewell greeting that means “travel well” or “go well” in Shona–the language of my mother’s people. I imagine these were the last words whispered to us before we left. I crafted this parachute out of sheets of satin and sewed diamonds into the fabric. The parachute is made of three colors that pay a subtle homage to the LGBTQI+ genderqueer flag and community. I imagine that when we landed on Earth our parachutes were made of silk and embedded with precious stones.

I want to move away from describing these narratives from the angle of hopelessness, loss and absence. I want to push a more celebratory narrative that is fantastical, soft, and imaginative and fueled by the unshakable belief in an abundance. I am not trying to make work that is intentionally heavy or painful but that celebrates being soft despite the journey, and the sense of community, resilience, and independence that comes with it.

We left and it was hard. I want to praise and commemorate not having had an easy, secure and stationary life and the strength that it demands. The subject in this piece is a friend of mine from Ghana in a completely indigenous South African landscape draped in a satin parachute. How did he get here with nothing on his back? A lot of people have to travel with nothing or arrive with nothing and I would like to recognize the glory of their journey.

Poshi, 2018, Photograph, 20 x 23 in. Courtesy of the artist

Q. Would you talk about the subjects in this affecting, striking photograph and how it relates to your interest in Blackness, queerness, and masculinity?

A. Poshi translates to “one” in English. In this photograph are two South African male-passing people who identify as non-binary and are dear friends. In these bodies of work, I only photographed people I know or who are friends of mine rather than models. People feel more comfortable and safe with someone they know and can trust as there’ll already be an inherent emotional connection. This connection between myself and my subjects is visible to the viewer and aims to encourage them to lower their guard. The act of lowering one’s guard is important to me as my work is an attempt at narrowing the gap between strangers, humans and aliens. I think the closer the subject gets to revealing themselves, the closer the viewer can get to the work. What is important about this photograph is that the person at the bottom shows no physical exertion as if there is no weight on their shoulders. No burden bared. An almost weightlessness to love and support.

Q. You are the second Ritzau Art Prize recipient. How do you plan to use your physical residency in New York City?

A. Recently when I visited the United States of America for the first time, I was registered as a ‘legal alien.’ I found this to be both pejorative and a rather humorous way of formally categorizing someone. Were they aware of my alien origin story or was it just an official way of informing foreign nationals that there are Americans and then there are aliens? Due to a confluence of factors causing hostility in post-apartheid South Africa, the word ‘alien’ is associated with negative connotations and come with xenophobic implications. This reclamation of the word ‘alien’ in my work extends a hand to undermined and peripherized identities.

With this residency, I plan to contact people who also identify as being alien or who have always been treated as such. To create a series of works that are new yet feel safe, peaceful and like home. In these scenes will be some of the people I have made contact with who will help describe the feelings that will inform my work. I think it will be a surreal experience if I am able to relate more closely to the aliens in America than to the local people of South Africa.

African artist Adjani Okpu-Egbe is the inaugural Ritzau Art Prize recipient

London—Africa enjoys a vibrant, expansive contemporary art scene, but there is limited funding on the continent to provide local artists with residencies. Since 2017, we have worked to address the issue, supporting residencies for promising artists from the African continent at The International Studio & Curatorial Program in New York City.

This year, we announced a significantly increased residency, with expanded global visibility and professional development opportunities, the Ritzau Art Prize. The prize has been developed with 1-54, the leading international art fair with editions in London, New York, and Marrakech dedicated to contemporary art from Africa and its diaspora, and itself a sustainable, dynamic platform actively engaged in dialogue and exchange. Juried by a rotating panel of distinguished African artists and specialists, the prize is open to late emerging to mid-career artists whose work is being exhibited at the fair.

We are delighted to announce that Cameroonian painter and installation artist Adjani Okpu-Egbe (b. 1979), whose raw, expressive art investigates African colonial history and political activism, is the inaugural Ritzau Art Prize recipient.

Courtesy the artist

An interview with Adjani Okpu-Egbe

Q. Your artworks not only explore specific social and political movements. Would you talk about how your art reaches farther, functioning “as a call to rally support and resistance” as well as justice and solidarity? As you have said to other Afro-surrealists, “seek ye first the ‘woke’ realms of the objective part of their creative process.”

A. As artists, we have an inherent social contract with our communities and that is to dedicate aspects of our work to shed light on issues that affect our day to day lives in our various countries and the world. By doing this we get to indirectly show solidarity to those affected and at the same time help bring a diverse group of people together who could possibly contribute in seeking justice.

Art has immense potential to stir resistance against authoritarianism, rally support and seek justice and as such, if artists prioritise deploying it in that context, then that can only be an all-round good thing to everyone.

Q. A native of Southern Cameroon and an Afro-surrealist Expressionist, you suggest your “creativity to be both a mystical and metaphorical process.” May we ask you to talk about these facets of your inventive practice?

A. I am from Southern Cameroon, Ambazonia, and am a native of Kembong and Ndoi Batanga, the respective hometowns of my paternal and maternal lineages. Both my grandparents were chiefs, hence cultural custodians. My paternal grandfather was the head of the “Nyánkpè” secret society and the totem lived in his house. In 2010, I conducted research and made paintings alluding to the Nyánkpè secret society without prior knowledge about my grandfather’s deeper connections to the society.

It might just be a coincidence, but I do find it mysterious that I can sometimes create things that I don’t have a clear understanding of, only for it all to reveal itself at the end or a few years later. Sometimes I do not understand my own creativity. I do believe that I’m grounded in my understanding of who I am and why I’m here. 

Q. Your work unfolds a range of issues and you employ a range of discarded and found materials. For example, in Takumbeng’s Creed, Ambazonian Fortress (Diptych) you used a found door as a ground, a non-traditional material but one whereas in all of your work, you evince a fluency and dexterity for composition. Talk about the use of doors in your work and their role and significance to you. How is the door a metaphor and how does it allow you to comment on issues?

We live in a time when the effects of climate change are visibly destructive on a global scale, and it’s important that we all do our bit in averting the situation. Recycling obviously plays an important role in that, so using discarded door panels and bubble wrap fulfills that purpose.

I use the door panels to comment on these issues, to help promote sensitization and activism that goes a long way in pressuring our governments to take action.

The doors have other significance. I come from a poor family and moved to the UK where from studying, to serving in the British Army, being the first black and African artist to be commissioned by BBC to give an artistic interpretation of the queen’s Diamond Jubilee on the River Thames on live TV in 2012, and to be able to show my work in respected spaces around the world, and now winning the 1-54 Ritzau Art Prize is a huge privilege that I cannot take for granted.

Obviously, this hasn’t come without serious challenges and doors slammed in my face, but the slammed doors remind me of the ones that have been opened, the ones that are half open … the ones which are opened but not welcoming, the ones that I’ve to keep knocking. It reminds me of difficulties and possibilities in life, hence the metaphorical connotation of “opened” and “closed” doors. On the other hand, the bubble wrap reminds me that in life, every problem comes with a solution, sometimes we just need to dig a bit deeper and exercise a bit more patience.

Adjani Okpu-Egbe, Takumbeng’s Creed, Ambazonian Fortress (Diptych), 2019.
Photograph by Deniz Guzel; Courtesy Sulger-Buel Gallery

Q. The Coronation of Steve Biko (2018) is a highly energetic, full palette work on paper, and you take maximum advantage of the entire sheet, edge to edge. What role does paper play in your studio practice, and could you talk about working on Waterford paper, an English paper known for its natural, woolen surface and texture?

If an artist spends $700 on a linen, subconsciously, there’s pressure during the creative process — the work has to be good and that’s not a good sign.

However, working on paper brings a totally different experience. Probably because paper is subconsciously attached to the toilet, trash, or used as wrapping or packaging materials, and it’s more affordable. It has an ephemeral quality to it, and that makes the creative process less stressful because if in the end one doesn’t like it, it can simply be squashed and put it in the trash. I like to be free when working and nothing helps liberate me better than paper. I prefer Waterford because of its rich texture and it’s absorbent and archival qualities.

Q. How do the rich tones and various subjects in this work describe your response to the brutal killing and political murder of Mr. Biko, following his arrest for subversion in 1977?

The choice of colour plays a fundamental role in my work. In The Coronation of Steve Biko, the use of specific rich colours helps the work to stand out in a way that highlights colourful elements associated with Zulu culture. Biko was arrested purportedly for subversion and then brutally murdered while in custody in 1977 for challenging the Apartheid Regime in South Africa.

It’s impossible to discuss Steve Biko without mentioning his death. In The Coronation of Steve Biko, I’m not talking about his death. I’m more concerned about his legacy and the role of the women who stood by him throughout, but whose contributions are often relegated to the back. To me, Biko was coronated by these women as a little boy and his middle name Bantu, meaning “people” in Zulu, immediately denotes power, leadership, responsibility, selflessness and at the same time, vulnerability — something which I attempted at invoking in the title, the colours, texture, and the whole painting itself.

Adjani Okpu-Egbe, The Coronation of Steve Biko, 2018.
Photograph by Deniz Guzel; Courtesy Sulger-Buel Gallery

Q. A French Soldier‘s Trophy Head in Cameroon 1950’s/1960’s is a visually striking, free-standing three-dimensional object made of clay, an ancient and sensuous medium that is expressive and malleable, as well as metal, wood, and human hair. May we ask you to talk about this work that relates to political turmoil in Cameroon and Ambazonia, and your decision to employ clay and human hair?

A. The work was inspired by the brutal repression and genocide carried out against the Bamileke clan by French and Cameroon forces due to the former’s resistance to French colonial rule. It is estimated that about 60,000 to 75,000 Bamilekes where killed and some of them had their heads chopped off and kept by French soldiers as trophies. It is alleged that both men and women were sexually abused during the genocide, hence pubic hair and head hair, compose part of the material used in making the work.

It’s the first and only sculpture that I’ve created and there wasn’t any war in Cameroon in 2015 when it was made. At the time, my choice of clay was based on what was available in my tutor’s studio. The piece is now showing as part of my installation “The Foundation of Erasure” in Kuntsverein Museum, Braunschweig, Germany.

Adjani Okpu-Egbe, A French Soldier’s Trophy Head in Cameroon 1950’s/1960’s, 2019.
Photograph by Deniz Guzel; Courtesy Sulger-Buel Gallery

Q. You are the inaugural Ritzau Art Prize recipient which will include you traveling to New York City for a 90-day residency. May we ask how you intend to use your time and do you feel that residencies for artists are lacking on the African continent?

l am thrilled to be the inaugural winner of this prestigious prize, and I am much looking forward to going to New York in October and getting to work for three good months. Hopefully it facilitates the opening of more doors for me. I have a plan of what I intend to accomplish workwise. In virus-free times, New York is an amazing city. I want to take this opportunity to thank 1-54 Contemporary African Art Fair, ISCP, the prize donor and my London gallery for all their hard work and graciousness in making this come to fruition.

Note to readers: An expanded version of this interview is on

Due to restrictions brought on by COVID-19, the prize announcement originally scheduled for May 7, 2020 at The Caldwell Factory in New York was made on A special event for the artist will take place during the 2020 edition of 1-54 London, scheduled October 8 to 11.