Cato Paints Black Elders as Muses

March 12, 2024

As the collective seasonal depression currently troubling Londoners continues to display no signs of wavering — a state with which I’m sure New Yorkers are all too familiar — the art world is resolute that the show must go on. Despite the weather, the openings have been opening like it's nobody’s business, including the opening of London-based painter Cato's first UK solo show. On a particularly busy Wednesday on the gallery circuit, Cato opened his show SEEN! at Cooke Latham Gallery in Battersea. Less than an hour before its doors opened, I gave the painter a call as the first of his guests were beginning to trickle into the gallery.

We discussed how Cato creates his large scale works, drawing from a spunky set of references, mediums, and materials in order to construct his candid paintings centring uncle-like figures, a legible character across the black diaspora, engaging in the cultural exchange of music and dominoes. Beyond this particular show, his paintings depict men boxing and chilling in barber shops, and domestic scenes reminiscent of Carrie Mae Weems’ photography. Cato is captivated by both his subjects and the spaces they inhabit, he tells me, as we speak about charming elders, returning to Jamaica, and the sentimentality of his humble materials and methods.

By Gwyneth Tambe-Green
Photos by PAPARAZZI

Tell me about your current show SEEN! that is opening imminently.

The [Cooke Latham] gallery were the first people to offer me a solo show, so that was really exciting. The LA show happened quicker… but for this it was the first time I was in my studio in London, working on paintings that would have to work together on four walls, and that was really fun.

What was your methodology behind this show?

What I wanted to do was introduce taking my own photographs and finding real characters, Caribbean people in Peckham and Brixton, to photograph. So I asked these casting agents to find older people to come round the studio to take portraits of, which I took with my sister Maya and her boyfriend Dominic (who work under MISSOHIO as a photography duo). I started by collecting photos of people with really cool expressions and next was my research of African photographers to find the right characters that spark my imagination. Then I paint those faces first on stretched canvas and start pairing things together. I paint with acrylic and airbrush until they start talking to each other within the painting and then I build their bodies and stuff around that.

One of the guys who came, who's called Tony Culture, had a sick outfit so that just made it easy because I could use his whole vibe for one of the paintings, which is the one I posted first. So I just try to make little moments, little scenes with those characters.

And I know your work also hinges on art histories to an extent too…

I’m influenced by photographers like Malick Sidibé, and different painters who would try and make sort cultural underground scenes into the subject matter of the paintings like Manet and Picasso. And then I always go back to Romare Bearden for the specific way he composes bodies, and I managed to find some really good books of his in America which helped inform what I was doing.

My earlier work would start with musicians as the subject matter, but I’ve wanted to move a little bit away from that, and developed it into any moment of life between people. So there's guys playing dominoes, and people chilling outside the factory where they work.

Are you pulling from both fiction and real life in these scenes you're creating?

Yeah, I want it to look relatable to real life, and I like realistic storytelling in films and stuff where there's the local characters that might crop up in a film. Also my Dad’s writing is quite like that where the older people he grew up around are fictionalised into something entertaining but quite nuanced real life stories.

It feels like your paintings are… auto-fictional, perhaps? And anecdote is such a great material, for both writing and art.

I love books that pull together from little stories rather than a grand narrative and I love that in films as well. I grew up with a lot of stuff like that.

I was also wondering if travelling is influencing your practice at all?

Yeah, I think in LA it was more so ‘space and time’, I wanted it to be more culturally significant than it necessarily was but definitely being in Mexico there was a massive choice of culture. I like to be a little sponge when I pull up somewhere, and get the low down of a new spot.

A lot of places I go to I've already got some idea about from films. Like Jamaica is my whole upbringing, me and my sisters were always thinking about Jamaica and we had our ideas about it. But actually going there was amazing because of the story telling from cab drivers, and a waitress we met around the first place we stayed would go really deep into a story about her family unprovoked… but I love picking things up along the way whenever I’m travelling.

I feel like you’ve got a really rich set of references that you’re pulling from, loads of different disciplines and then your paintings speak in these different tones, colour and texture, and scale feels really important, they look massive. And then I think they almost feel like your animations in that way, they feel super alive.

I think my favourite form of art is film so I wanted it to lend itself towards that medium because I haven't learnt about cameras yet. It’s a way to learn about those things through painting, and collage makes it easy because you can animate the characters by moving them round and they can settle into a still rather than a really composed idea. You can move them until they look really comfortable and dynamic. And I look at a lot of animators who would just use cut outs and still make them alive, even though the individual parts are quite rigid. I like the idea of bringing them to life after they’ve been painted.

It's got this old school sentimentality of being really manual and tangible, and I love the idea of you personally performing that camera function without having to use an actual camera.

Yeah exactly. And all the animation I love tends to be the really tactile stuff where you can see the mistakes or you can see the artist's hand in it. And the photography I like is usually quite low budget, one flash kind of thing.

It’s very humble. I think that's the kind of work I’m really enjoying at the moment, work that’s in one sense loud, but in another sense not arrogant.

Yeah, yeah I like that a lot. That's definitely the tone I like; it's not showing off too much and quite down to earth.

But it doesn't have to be because it's so exciting, it speaks for itself.

I think something I try to be conscious of in my life is that people in the street are fascinating. Even if they're not praised, all those people, I want to hear their stories. I want to interact with them and that's when I feel I’m in a good place, when I acknowledge the people in the high street who have been there longer than me.

I wonder if that has something to do with growing up with Black elders?

Definitely. That reminds me of my uncle and listening to him and my dad just chatting. My uncle will be going off on tangents…

There’s something about an older black man telling a story that's just everything!

My uncle is just outrageous. And then my mum will be the only person who will actually challenge it. They have really funny interactions.

Do you think your work wants to capture these kinds of dynamics then?

Yeah, definitely. I want it to be that kind of thing you hear from the elders. They want to give back to you, so giving credence to their story from the position of being young is very important to me.

Art

LIA LIA by Iga Drobisz

Your work often explores intimacy and vulnerability. How do you create a safe and authentic environment for your subjects during a shoot?

The past few months, I’ve been working on two series of photographs: nudes of women in their own apartments and portraits of women before and after giving birth. Both series involve capturing them in deeply personal spaces—bedrooms or nurseries—where they feel at ease.

Shooting in their spaces, in their own beds, plays a crucial role in creating comfort. I choose film and cameras that show them in a way they find beautiful and empowering, emphasizing softness and warmth. It's a stark contrast to modern, hyper-detailed phone cameras that sometimes reveal more than one wants to see.

Your photography has a distinct emotional depth and texture. How do you approach the interplay of light, color, and composition to achieve this?

My process is highly intuitive. I’ve never formally studied photography or apprenticed under anyone—I learned by experimenting and seeing what felt right. It’s about trusting my instincts rather than adhering to rigid rules.

What role do personal experiences or cultural influences play in shaping the stories you tell through your images? Many of your photographs feel deeply narrative.

Growing up, I was surrounded by great cinematography. My grandmother had a TV, but my mom only brought home VHS tapes—films with substance. I think that exposure shaped how I see the world, how I approach subjects, and the narrative depth in my work.

What role does spontaneity play in your shoots? Do you leave room for improvisation, or is everything carefully planned?

To balance spontaneity and structure, I go in with a clear plan and strong direction, but I remain open to surprises. It’s about letting the subject feel like the shoot is about them, not me. That openness often leads to the most unexpected, meaningful moments.

What inspired the shoot with singer LIA LIA? How did it come together?

Collaborating with Ruby and Naomi always takes me out of my comfort zone in the best way. For this shoot, we wanted to transform someone with an iconic face but also someone like Lia—someone with a clear sense of self.

Giving her a completely new look was exciting; it brought an unexpected energy to the set. The approach was playful and experimental. The night before, I had no idea what wigs Ruby would bring or what colors Naomi might choose. It was a beautiful mix of spontaneity and collaboration.

What inspires you the most?

Movies and music are big inspirations for me, as well as the work of other photographers like Carlijn Jacobs, Harley Weir, Rineke Dijkstra, Charlotte Wales, and Nan Goldin.

What emotions or truths are the hardest for you to express through your art, and why?

I don’t think I consciously try to express specific emotions when I work. Instead, I follow what feels right in the moment—what draws me in or excites me that day. It’s less about a deliberate expression and more about letting intuition guide the way.

Art

Luna Luna: Surrealist Spectacle Lands in New York

November 21, 2024

In the 1980s, André Heller, an Austrian artist, singer-songwriter, and former actor, was looking for a new place to showcase his art. He had already taken to gardens, creating a colorful, surrealistic character using 40,000 flowers, and to the skies, organizing a 'fire theatre,' which involved an over-the-top fireworks show complete with steel-frame sculptures set on fire. But he had never tried out a fair.

So began "Luna Luna." Created as the world's first art carnival, "Luna Luna" combined the spectacular with the absurd, showcasing original rides and attractions from rising and already-at-the-top artists in Hamburg. Nearly forty years since its debut, followed by foiled plans for a worldwide tour, breached contracts, and 44 storage containers, the art fair has finally returned, calling New York home after re-debuting last year in Los Angeles.

By Hailey Johnson
Photography by Delvin Claro and Sabrina Sarnitz, courtesy of Luna Luna LLC

On a recent evening in Hudson Yards, a small carousel featured characters in quirky, Twister-like poses and an outstretched dog with seven legs. (Almost a century old, the rides are no longer rideable.) Goofy wooden sculptures were elevated in another corner, some of them cross-eyed or with a horn for a nose. A geodesic dome glowed, with Gregorian chants hovering somewhere above it.

"It's an art experience like no other," Michael Goldberg, Chief Experience Officer of Luna Luna, said recently. "People get to see artists do things they've never done before," he added.

Goldberg, founder of Something Special Studios, a creative agency behind many Nike campaigns, was determined to resurrect “Luna Luna” after reading about it online in 2019. Goldberg shopped for investors, eventually teaming up with DreamCrew, a media company co-owned by the rapper Drake. (Details on the company's investment remain vague; sources have reported that DreamCrew spent over "100 million dollars.") In 2022, an intensive restoration process began, with a team of artists reviving many of the original works, which had remained in boxes in a Texas warehouse for over thirty years. Several had been in pieces. (The team reportedly had to rebuild each work "bolt by bolt.")

That night, at the Shed, fourteen out of the original thirty-five works were on display, including the small carousel (Keith Haring), the goofy sculptures (Kenny Scharf), the neon dome (Salvador Dali), and a towering Ferris wheel decorated in drawings of stick figures, upside crowns, and references to Jim Crow (Basquiat). Missing works are in a "constant state of restoration," Goldberg said. Meanwhile, new attractions are joining the line-up. For the New York show, the Puerto Rican duo Poncilí Creación was commissioned to create "PonciliLand," a blink-and-you-miss-it section where guests "can create fantastical characters out of custom building blocks." Poncili also developed floating characters, inspired by performers who circulated the original “Luna Luna” fairgrounds in 1987. Known as "Lovers," the two characters, large and dreamlike, teetered to one side, mumbling the kind of nervous groans one does before a fall. (They never ended up falling.)

I asked Goldberg if, given that today's culture doesn't quite look or feel the same way as it did in 1987, there was any hesitation in showing some of the original works. On a back wall, a tribute featured Manfred Diex's "Palace of the Wind," a show featuring performers who fart into a microphone; on another, two ornate pedestals held sculptures of spiral poop.

"I don't see any reason why we wouldn't show any of these works," he said. "A lot of the time, art is exclusive and uninviting. The big difference between “Luna Luna” and other art experiences is that it has many sides to it, and things that have a bit of humor and playful energy. "As for "Palace of the Winds,” the decision to keep it was simple: farting is universal. He went on: "The “Crap Chancellery" is, conceptually, one of the most important works in “Luna Luna.” Daniel Spoerri's dad was killed in the Holocaust, and the work was inspired by Albert Speer, who was Hitler's architect. He took the facade of what was meant to be a Nazi shrine and turned it into the facade of a bathroom with two steaming statues of shit standing on the outside. These works are extremely important and are things that we would definitely want to honor and draw attention to."

As “Luna Luna” further develops, the show will likely change. "It will continue to evolve as we go to different cities in response to the spaces that we pop up into and in collaboration with the local city," Goldberg said." With it, there will be new characters and new stories to tell. One aspect that won't change, though, as Goldberg assured, is a long-held sentiment about a potential partnership. At one point, early on during the original “Luna Luna” era, McDonald's wanted to buy into it. Heller said no, adding that he "didn't want it to feel like Disneyland." Goldberg agreed. Nonetheless, as I watched Kenny Scharf's dizzying swing ride go around for what felt like the hundredth time, with the cartoon characters decorated on it blurring together (one with a villain's grin, another morphed into a martini glass), I couldn't help but feel like maybe I was at Disneyland, only not as robbed, but just as entertained and exhausted by its rides and fantastical characters, and wanting to go again.

Luna Luna, Hamburg, Germany, 1987.

Art

Pamela Sneed’s Speaking Tongue opens at Dashwood Projects

November 15, 2024

Pamela Sneed’s latest exhibition, Speaking Tongue, will be on view at Dashwood Projects from November 20 to December 21. The show features twenty watercolor and ink paintings inspired by her recent trip to Kenya, where she was deeply moved by the elegance of giraffes, the landscapes, and the energy of Nairobi.

Blending her background as a poet and visual artist, Sneed’s work reflects on themes of identity, nature, and connection. Her paintings capture the beauty and spirit of the animals she encountered, alongside reflections on her own experiences as part of the African diaspora.

This exhibition marks Sneed’s first solo show with Dashwood Projects and will be accompanied by a new book, also titled Speaking Tongue, to be released in December.