Gab Bois Is Serving Up Wearables That Look Good Enough to Eat

June 13, 2024

Seeing one of Gab Bois’ digital artworks for the first time unexpectedly flips your world upside down. Nothing is what it seems in her mind’s eye — skirts can be made out of pencils, noodles double as dainty hair bows, and vegetables will likely be converted into cute, wearable vêtements.

The multifaceted artist is now bringing that subversive universe to life through her ready-to-wear collection, Canapés. For the collection’s first drop, Bois served up lush, rhubarb-inspired wearables — a purse and a knit — showing that her pieces look not only good enough to eat, but adorable enough to wear too. Expanding the colorful Canapés menu, the artist has now released heeled sandals and a graphic sweater inspired by the juicy texture and vibrance of clementines.

Interview by Kayla Curtis-Evans
Photos Courtesy of Gab Bois
Portraits by Alex Blouin and Jodi Heartz

office caught up with Bois just after the new pieces dropped to dissect her brain, discuss what defines “art,” and dive into her latest menu offerings.

What first got you interested in creating things through a surrealist lens?

I was a big Tumblr teenager. I'm also an only child and I always loved to do crafty activities as a kid. I was always very drawn to nature and the long, repetitive task of assembling things and working with found objects or everyday things around the house. So I always say that my process today is a big extension of what I loved to do as a kid. I think that's where the essence of playfulness in my work comes from. I've always been really drawn to these kinds of mood board-style images — the best way I find to describe them is that they’re so visually appealing that you want to eat them. That's how I know that a photo is in a good place to be posted or shared.

There's that aesthetic appeal within your work but I also think there's a curiosity that comes along with it. As you said, that's very related to being a child and being curious and imaginative about all the things around you. When you were growing up, did you have an imaginary friend?

I had many imaginary friends in the form of physical things. I didn't have this ghostlike figure that only I could see and talk to. But I was convinced that my toys and stuffed animals had emotions and were coming alive when I was sleeping. Very much like Toy Story. I would put them in big lines and put the horses at the front and then let them lead the way. I felt this very close bond with inanimate objects that weren't so inanimate in my mind. I feel like that's still very much present in my work and my relationship with objects as an adult, being a big collector of ceramic dishes and found objects at the thrift store. I'm very drawn to the visual quality of objects.

When I was younger, I also loved spending time at the grocery store and fruit and vegetable markets. Any place where things are neatly organized, even at the hardware store. So to this day, I think that informed a lot of the subjects of my work. A few years ago, I think in 2018, I created this photo of a snow cone filled with dirty snow. To me, as a kid, that was always such an intrusive thought of wanting to eat the dirty snow because it looked like cookies and cream ice cream. So now as an adult, this is my visual representation of that. But I feel that there are so many subconscious references from my childhood that are very present in my work all the time.

Tell me about the meaning behind your ready-to-wear capsule name, Canapés. Why do you choose to produce slowly and how do you balance creating freely with creating ethically?

My ready-to-wear has been a passion project that has taken some time to be ideated and produced. I've been used to, for now, eight years, producing at a really fast pace. And I always say that my Instagram is kind of an exploration of the creative muscle — keeping it going and then moving on to the next post after. This was something that allowed me to really move at a slower pace and be more intentional — this also gave me more time to be a perfectionist, which can be a double-edged sword. But I'm very happy with the way this turned out. The name refers to finger foods. I love the aesthetics of finger food, for one. I love that they are always more presentation than taste. So that's very much what I wanted to portray: wearables that are all about aesthetics. I'm not necessarily trying to bridge that gap between function and the visual aspect, but creating pieces that are more about visuals than about function.

We've only done two drops, but they've been food-focused and it's a subject that I never get tired of. But because it is a personal project, I kind of want to just leave room for it to be whatever. I want it to be my own playground. In terms of the production process, we produced the bags in Italy and Portugal. And then we worked with someone to assemble all of those parts because the facades of both the shoes and the purse are silicone and PVC made. And then in terms of the quantities, especially today, it would be very crazy for me to say that anyone needs any of these products.

So I think this is an homage to the objects, but it's by no means something that has a place to be mass-produced and consumed in high volumes. I think the beauty of it is that it is in small quantities. It's something that's just a special thing to look at or to own or to wear. And just like my other work, I like it to serve many functions and to be adaptable.

I think for people who have been following along with your work, that's the intention that you set with your visual work and the digital renderings anyway. There's such a focus on the artistic aspects of what you're creating that I think it set the tone for the ready-to-wear pieces. A lot of fashion lately is not about fashion as an art, but I think seeing these pieces that are so intentionally created shows a different perspective of what fashion can be. Why do you choose to use everyday, mundane objects in your work?

I think it's a matter of relatability for me. It's more fun to subvert something when you know that most people have the reference. I find there's more power in it than if you're just doing something for yourself. I understand doing something for yourself and being the only one to get it. And sometimes I do like to have those Easter eggs in there for my own sake. But the bottom line is that whatever I am into and what I find visually appealing at the time, will most likely be included as a subject. I'm based in Montreal and we have four super distinct seasons, so I'll get very inspired by seasonal fashion, seasonal foods, and things like that. So whatever is in my lens at a certain moment is probably what's going to end up being featured. And like I said before, I still find a lot of enjoyment in places like grocery stores and hardware stores so that's where a lot of 'aha moments' happen.

You could totally make it feel like people are stepping into some of the photos you've made or getting to live within your pieces. For this new drop, I know there were some intentional choices behind using the clementine as a symbol and the feelings that that motif brings about. How do you want the collection to make people feel when they wear it?

To me, the clementine symbolizes luck. And then the orange and the citrus, in general, can be so fresh and optimistic. Just like the images, I love it when my work is digested at people's pace and when people bring on their own interpretation of it. There's no real way that I hope that it's taken or that I wish people would take it. I think it's just a very visually interesting lucky charm.

I totally agree that all of your pieces, and with any art, it's all up for interpretation. I know we touched a little bit on the silicone, PVC, and certain materials employed in this collection. The last drop blended artistry with some quite advanced technology. Were there any fun, unexpected processes or techniques used to create the Clementine collection?

Something important to me was to model the actual replicas of the clementine from the real fruit. So we used actual 3D scans of specifically chosen clementines and that made it feel real. I made this very DIY model of it about three years ago in my old apartment and sent it to my manager back then and said 'Oh, I really wanna do this.' And it's funny because we released Rhubarb first, but Clementine was the first idea that started the whole wearable line idea. So it all stemmed from that. Now I'm lucky to be able to bring my ideas to life in that capacity.

Do you think anything can be art?

Absolutely. I very much agree that beauty is subjective and all that good stuff. But I am also super opinionated about what I think is good art or bad art. That's why I'm also very receptive to people not liking my work and not thinking what I do is art. I don't have any issue with that. I appreciate that it's just a playground for everyone to be able to be like, 'Oh, I really hate that,' or 'Oh, I really love that.' And neither answer is the end of the world and nobody needs to be right. It's more of an open-ended thing and some things that I didn't like years ago, I can love today. Art is fluid and it's evolving, so I'm not too involved or bothered in any way by the fine art world or the emerging art world. I go to openings when I'm invited. If I'm drawn to it, I go watch movies that I want to watch and all of that can be sources of inspiration. I'm very curious.

These two drops that we've seen so far have given people a taste of the wider Gab Bois universe. What's next on the menu?

With the wearable pieces, I want to aim to drop two drops per year. We're aiming for the next one in November of 2024. I want to create my first jacket with that drop. I also want to put out some more entry-level collectible items just to allow the work to live outside of the digital realm and for people to have a different sensory experience with it.

There's something really unique about the artistic ability to be able to see something that's super commonplace and think of the possibilities of what it could be. But I imagine that there are certain ideas that you render or conceptualize that may be very difficult or not possible to bring to life at all. What, in your mind, distinguishes an idea that remains a hypothetical creative concept and an idea that becomes reality?

Sometimes I can't explain what drives that, but I would say that it really comes down to doing it versus not doing it. That truly is what it is. There's a driving force that makes you take the next step versus not. I have a team here now and we like to brainstorm all together and we usually narrow down, maybe twice, the amount of ideas that we end up creating. I guess it's just a matter of what I picture in my mind. Timing is super interesting in that way where I'm now revisiting ideas that I put aside years ago because I didn't think they were strong enough then. And now I'm like, 'Oh, this is great.' Ideas and inspiration move in such abstract ways. Even with other people — I'll have this idea, put it to rest for a minute, and then someone else will do it. And that's great because it just came out through a different channel. So I like to keep my mind open for ideas to come in and out. But there are quite a bit of the ideas that we bring to life, for example, for photo, that we produce and we shoot and then it doesn't work. And we just have to accept that that's okay too.

There's a learning experience in that trial and error, I'm sure.

Definitely. And that's something that, in the beginning, I was so attached to — the ideas. I was fighting it and I would redo things like 10 times and just get so frustrated, whereas now, I'm in a very privileged position to be able to just let go of some ideas and not have to produce every single one of them. It's a much more comfortable place to be in.

Are you a perfectionist in your work?

No. I wouldn't say that. I am particular, but I wouldn't say that I'm a perfectionist. Obviously, speaking of my personal work in terms of commissions, I have to be. But if it's something I'm making in another context, I don't need it to be perfect. Ever.

I think it's an unlearning process, especially in art, to teach yourself that there are still lessons or beautiful things to find in imperfections. Have you ever read the book Big Magic?

Yes, I have.

That's exactly what I thought of when you were talking about ideas. And how you're just a channel that they pass through and if you don't grab onto an idea and actualize it, then it could float away to someone else.

Oh my god, I love that book a lot. I've recommended it to a lot of people and I find that a lot of people have a barrier to entry to self-help. But I react very well to that. I'd be a great cult follower [laughs].

Your works take on a really trippy, imaginative quality, blurring the lines between fantasy and reality. What does your ultimate fantasy world look like — who’s there and what do you feel when you’re there?

Well, one disclaimer is that my dream world for myself is not the same as the dream world I'd offer up to others. My home is all gray tone, stainless steel. But it relaxes my eyes a lot whereas in my work, I tend to be more on the maximalist side. A lifelong dream of mine is to design a themed hotel where you can really check all the boxes from the hospitality standpoint to restoration and just tap into all the senses. I'd love to enhance that visual experience, the sleep experience, the eating, and just create a surreal sensory overload. This is a dream that would encapsulate all of the fields that I hope to one day be able to tap into with my work.

Art

“Semi-Traditional” Hybridity at 032c Gallery

Berlin-based magazine 032c, which has long blurred the boundaries of a traditional publication with its extensive line of garments and apparel, launched a new, permanent, gallery space. Through its first show “Productive Narcissism,” artistic directors of the gallery Claire Koron Elat and Shelly Lea Reich insert themselves into Hugo’s ever-so-relevant dialect, challenging the contemporary conventions of a “publication” while addressing the self’s relation to re-invention.

In what ways will the gallery distinguish itself from the publication?

Claire Koron Elat— The gallery is part of the 032c universe. While the magazine is the nucleus of this universe, it expands into different realms – the ready-to-wear, residencies, exhibitions, and now the permanent gallery space. The gallery is an organic expansion, and at the same time, it questions the future of print publications. What are the alternatives to traditional ways of working in editorial? In our current state and time, flat images and digital are being highly prioritized; the gallery is also a response to that cultural shift.

Shelly Lea Reich— Our first show touched upon this topic of reinvention specifically, but it also reflects the publication and connection to redesign through the written word. We have worked with all of them in the past, which was a conscious decision to further and establish a long-term relationship with them. The gallery will be about establishing and furthering those connections, too.

You will be operating under a “semi-traditional model.” Could you define what this implies in practice?

CKE— It’s called semi-traditional because we want to start without a representation model: the gallery is officialy open and we have a running program, but we’re not yet representing any artists. It’s considered traditional because we have openly communicated that this is a commercial operation. We’re selling the art, and–while deeply interested in providing cultural value–we’re trying to make a profit.

But so is everybody, although desires of profit margins may differ. The business model under which art exists is hard to escape but easier to manipulate.

SLR— It is. And, in comparison to fashion, it’s something that the art world prefers not to talk about. Both Claire and I come from a background in the arts, meaning that we know the sensitivities in this scene, and how to address them with collectors.

Cezary Poniatowski, Reverse Prophecies, 2021. Ser Serpas, Alice (Language) Praxis 4, 2024.

Jon Rafman, 2024.

How might the “sensitivities in this scene” differentiate, given the gallery's location?

CKE— 032c was founded in Berlin and therefore has a deep connection to the city and its creative class. In its history, themes, and ethos — while simultaneously being hyper-international — 032c is deeply tied to the city; It made sense to open the first permanent gallery here. Joerg [Koch] has been organizing shows for decades, back when he had the old office at Brunnenstraße and then in St Agnes Furthermore, Berlin is a great place for welcoming “novel” projects because the scene is relatively open to finding newness in its traditions.

SR— Berlin has established itself as an important player in the art scene. Many galleries in the city are showing exhibitions at a really high level with a real in-depth intellectual curation, and as the city is still considered a relatively large city, but with a more affordable economic structure, we find it quite accommodating for new establishments. This transition of Berlin becoming a dominant cultural city in Germany and also in general is particularly notable in the context of galleries that have migrated from Cologne, such as neugerriemschneider and Galerie Buchholz, which expanded here in the 2000s after the fall of the wall - there has been a resurgence in Berlin's cultural landscape. At the same time, there’s still room for new initiatives to rise.

Circumstances under which self-creation is not only possible but infinite.

CKE— So far there hasn’t been any criticism. Probably because we’re not trying to portray the gallery as something that it isn't. We’re not a non-profit or charity foundation. We’re a gallery that, just like any gallery that travels too fairs or simply organizes exhibitions, is trying to sell what you see.

With the program we want to draw attention to the hybridity of the creative industry, and specifically that of art and fashion. Artists have always collaborated with mediums outside of their personal “traditional means,” or with other artists, or with fashion brands. Likewise, fashion brands have been inspired by artists throughout time. This is nothing new. That being said, what’s recently frowned upon is the idea that the more hyphenate you are — a DJ, a photographer, an artist, a director — the less focus or authority you hold over your chosen practices. I’m not bringing this to the table to make any judgement, but rather the opposite. Shelly and I have had a longstanding vision of reframing this hybrid intellectually. 032c Gallery will provide that. It will welcome experimentation.

The space is re-thinking the means of a magazine, while the exhibition itself is also commenting on the theme of reinvention. Through Boris Groy’s essay, the show investigates how “we are required to constantly re-invent ourselves,” thereby placing us in a permanent state of uncertainty. Who places this obligation upon us?

CKE— At the end of the day, it's not an obligation. It’s as philosophical and controversial as the question regarding free will. I would argue that you put this “obligation” on yourself, but doing so almost just by being part of contemporary society, especially in creative industries where one is “required” to reinvent to stay relevant. It only becomes dangerous once the speed of these reinventions reaches a constant. Endless adoption leads to uncertainty because that's where the core of oneself might get lost.

SLR— I think “requirement” here could be quite positive rather than negative. It’s very freeing to have these possibilities to reinvent yourself constantly. And it's something that's quite exciting. To be able to access a new version of oneself is to interact with different cultures, ideas, and expressions. It’s all part of a larger game. A good example of this is Amalia Ulman. We exhibited another work by her recently “excellences & perfections,” which recently celebrated ten years. In it, she intentionally adopted the role of a hyper-glamorous woman living a very lavish public life. Her friends and close circle quickly became confused with what was real and what wasn’t, but what’s fascinating is that so did Ulman, too. She explains how she got lost in the making, and confused her personae and personality for each other.

Lukas Heerich, Untitled, 2024.

Re-invention can become dangerous once the means of it is in the hands of the wrong people. And given that a lot of reinvention, as with Ulman, takes place in a virtual space or as a response to virtual hierarchies, does it not pass the risk of unregulated manipulation?

SLR— But you also have the freedom to manipulate the tools in return. As you are aware of these sets of rules, or your role as a user, that's where it becomes playful. I think that’s what’s specific about our times, that it’s easier if not even easy to get access to tools that weren’t accessible before. Circumstances under which self-creation is not only possible but infinite.

CKE— Humans were the one who built the algorithm. It’s not like we are being controlled by this otherworldly superpower. It’s not the man versus machine here—it’s you versus yourself. It’s a mechanism that we created and something that we also still control. Of course, we’re not always conscious about what we consume or in the ways in which it affects us. But once we take time to reflect upon it, question it, question ourselves, is when we get control over our self-reinvention.

How often do you reinvent yourself?

SLR— Good question. I think that we reinvented ourselves with the gallery. It’s been a shift in mindset.

CKE— For me, personal reinvention it's not so much about reinvention but rather a progressive invention. What about yourself?

I got a new haircut. A new look is always a reinvention because suddenly you are perceived differently. I think of reinvention as an external, social act. It’s dependent on the response, even though Narcissus might suggest otherwise.

Hugo Comte, 2024.

“Productive Narcissism” will be on view at 032c Gallery in Berlin until October 8th, 2024.

Art

Amie Dicke’s Open Arms

For her solo exhibition Open Arms at Anat Ebgi Gallery, which opened on Friday September 6, Dicke debuted a new body of works that continues her exploration of the signs and symbols shaping how we view the female form. In Open Arms, she expands her focus to include men’s fashion ads, art catalogs, and art history books. What connects these different interventions into modern masterpieces and male model photoshoots is a defiance of the convention that reduces women to passive objects of desire within images. At the same time, Dicke embraces the human tendency to project desires onto these images, making her revisions both sensual and fluid. Open Arms can be seen as a love letter to the art of self-representation, while critically examining what it means to engage with these representations.

Hi Amie. I’m really excited for your show at Anat Ebgi Gallery. I want to start by asking about how you first came into the art world. You were a model in New York in the early 2000s, right?

This story has become a thing of its own. I did live in New York for a year and a half as a starting artist to follow my then fresh love, but I did not model. I only worked as a teen model in Rotterdam. I was too shy to be a good model. The camera made me feel very vulnerable. I love fashion. Still, I prefer to stay on the other side of the camera. In Rotterdam, I also made sculptures and got some attention fresh out of art school. Somehow, making sculptures did not feel viable because of how masculinist it is in Europe. Instead, in New York, I found myself through all the imagery I saw on the street advertisements and magazines. Everything felt insanely new for me. I even learned how to navigate the subway because of these huge Calvin Klein posters. So, I started drawing on them and cutting them away.

What made you particularly attracted to images of young women found in fashion advertisements and magazines?

I am fascinated by how images of thin, young women are constantly pushed onto us. They often link back to archetypes like the muse or the Holy Virgin. I was studying old portraits of Mary and realized how her posture or gaze can reveal esoteric meanings. The same thing can be said about the innocent young girls I see in fashion imagery.

And you mostly construct images of faceless women in elaborated contexts, be it clothing or setting, which can be quite telling. I am curious as to why you are not fully denying our access to these women’s psychology.

My working process is full of discoveries. I rip pages out of magazines or art books, scan them and blow them up, and reproduce them on archival paper. Throughout the process, the images speak back to me, hinting at what to leave untouched and what to scrape away. In all cases, the images end up having this dualistic quality, somewhere between absence and presence. The women in my works reject the viewer's desire to identify with them but at the same time demands more attention. I find this doubling gesture very alluring, as if they took on the eternal quality of historical portrait painting.

Amie Dicke, Zeitgeist, 2024. Courtesy of Anat Ebgi Gallery.

Amie Dicke, Salomé, 2024. Courtesy of Anat Ebgi Gallery.

I also noticed that in this new body of work you have started to work with images of male models. The figures in Zeitgeist (2024) and Salomé (2024) have a more masculine build.

I realized there is something about masculine features, either square face shapes or bigger shoulders, that lend well to my abrasion. The Salomé piece is close to my heart. It was originally a magazine shoot of a male model standing in a museum, with several paintings behind him. I have always been interested in looking at the photographic reproduction of paintings, thinking about how they come to us and what we learn from them. While looking at the image, I saw a nude painting in the top right corner, with her face perfectly cut off from the frame. However, I can still identify her as Salomé by the antique placard placed on the painting’s frame. I was thinking about censoring the title but soon realized how perfect it is in relation to the faceless male model in the front. Salomé famously requested the beheading of John the Baptist.

Amie Dicke, The Bathers, 2024. Courtesy of Anat Ebgi Gallery.

Amie Dicke, Nude, 2024. Courtesy of Anat Ebgi Gallery.

You’ve also started working with the history of Western art itself. The Bathers (2024) and Nude (2024) strike me as full-frontal assaults on their source materials, Renoir’s The Large Bathers (1887) and Manet’s Olympia (1863) respectively. What is your motivation for taking a revisionist approach to these paintings, which are so important to the tradition of European modernism?

I must confess I find it very easy to attack The Large Bathers. I am not really a fan of that painting, and I wanted to question its position within art history. Painting is an act of mythmaking, and I am annoyed at how The Large Bathers reinforces the trope of naked young women being spied on from a distance. I want to see these bathers in a different light so now they are drowning or trying to survive in a sea of lipstick. With Olympia, I am curious about what remains of a reclining classical nude if I take everything away. In the end, Nude takes on a Cubist tradition. Also, you can see a page number on the edges of Nude because I appropriated a reproduction of the original painting from an older magazine. The colors are a bit off, which made my sandpaper intervention more interesting.

Amie Dicke, Church, 2024. Courtesy of Anat Ebgi Gallery.

Your preoccupation with questions of authenticity and authorship feels most prominent in Church (2024).

Yes, Church is based on the reproduction of a painting I found in a catalog. In the painting, there were two praying figures in a church. I am intrigued by the beautiful, dramatic pleats they are wearing. Once I erase the girls, the pleats take on a very spiritual, almost ghostly quality. In the left corner, you see shadows originally belonging to one of the figures, but now the shadows make the pleats come alive. I was born and raised in a Pentecostal church, so the Holy Spirit is something I am very familiar with.

I read somewhere that your studio is in a church. Is that right?

My studio is in a formerly Catholic church in the center of Amsterdam. I am renting one of the two sacristies next to the altar. The church was secularized but they still have services with another group of Christians on Sunday mornings. Sometimes the church functions as a voting station. Patti Smith performed there too. I sometimes climb onto the altar to find a better Wi-Fi connection. A lot of the days the church is empty, and I am just alone in the building.

Are you still religious?

No, but I still care about the devotional labor in my works. Devotion is very beautiful. I want to be able to train myself to lean into the inner spirits of great literature or painting, and to lean into myself and others. Those emotions and feelings I felt in the Pentecostal church still hold meaning to me. Also, once you have learned how to pray, it stays with you.

I imagine working in a church easily brings out those feelings too.

Yes. Those feelings are everywhere with me. It is more in my heart. Growing up as a young woman in a Pentecostal church and in a very Catholic country, I have always been annoyed by rules and power imbalances within the church. It’s always a man standing there and preaching. Not to mention the Madonna-whore complex. In the Bible, a lot of the female characters are usually sidelined or just presented as a temptress. I want to represent them differently.

Are you then freeing women from the confines of great books and modernism?

I’m not sure if I am freeing them, but I am freeing myself. Maybe at a certain point I will be really free, then I am curious what I am going to make. Too much freedom is panic, right?

Art

Swallow the Lake

September 23, 2024

Rather than the typical white-walled room downtown, the people of New York gathered in an abandoned office space in Times Square to witness the debut solo exhibition of Atlanta photographer Chris Skylark. Titled, "Swallow the Lake" as a reference to a 1970 collection of poems by Clarence Major, the body of work features numerous large-scale photographs that have been fascinatingly altered in the printing process.

Among the silkscreen prints are portraits of Playboi Carti, captivating images of locals in Jamaica, a rare shot of Frank Ocean and a mysterious self portrait of Skylark. Curated by Ginevra de Blasio, "Swallow the Lake" represents Chris’s call to fulfillment and offers an intimate and vulnerable perspective of his work and his subjects, who are so often photographed but rarely with such authenticity.

We spoke to Chris about how being surrounded by music influenced him as an artist, what his next moves are, and why he is waiting to show his work in Atlanta.

By Dylan Andrews
Photography by Spencer Stovell

You can check out 'Swallow the Lake' between now and October 4th.

How did growing up in Atlanta impact your outlook on the world of art and what it means to be an artist?

Growing up in Atlanta I was only ever surrounded by music. Which is sick because at a young age it was very inspiring to see other people near my age so independent and unafraid to put themselves out there. Looking back now, this showed me that it’s our duty as artists to think outside of the box and to produce new concepts and spinoffs of old ones in order for society to continue evolving.

How do you see your work evolving after this exhibition? Are there new themes or techniques you’d like to explore?

This was just the beginning for me. This show is filled with ideas that I've worked on for about three to four years that I was able to nurture and evolve overtime. As I explored the themes of this show, I found myself opening up the doors to a few new ideas that I'd love to dive deeper on. Now that I have my first studio residency at 99 Canal, I can’t wait to dive in and experiment with more mediums.

There’s a series of prints in this exhibition selling for just $250 each. Do you feel art should be made more accessible to people?

Most definitely. A major part of the show’s conceptualization has been about bridging the gap between multiple worlds. It honestly felt necessary to create something for the younger version of me. The version of myself that didn’t know much about art, but was curious.

Why did you choose to debut in New York and not Atlanta?

I think my background in music definitely played a part in this decision. When musicians go on tour they typically never start in their hometown. My plan is to continue my growth and exploration, so that my homecoming can be as impactful as possible. The contemporary art scene of Atlanta is still very niche, so I’d love to play a significant role in its growth and evolution. I just want to be ready.

It honestly felt necessary to create something for the younger version of me. The version of myself that didn’t know much about art, but was curious.

What was the last thing you took a picture of?

My baby brother Tana. He’s my favorite subject right now.

Where in the world do you feel most creative?

Atlanta for sure.

Who was the most interesting person you’ve taken a picture of?

Maybe Anok. She’s so sweet and always up to something cool. Frank Ocean was really cool too, we took photos then argued about gumbo.

How do you decide which stories or moments to capture? Is it instinctual or do you plan ahead?

A mixture of both. It really depends on what’s going on in my life at the moment. A lot of my subjects are very well known and are extensively photographed. As I’ve grown, I’ve looked to move away from that oversaturated style of celebrity photography, by moving a bit more selfish in a way. I prefer to show a moment of vulnerability and intimacy, that often feels like a reflection of myself. Most of my photos are self portraits exhibited through my subjects.

How has social media impacted the photography industry, and how do you use it to your advantage?

Honestly it has watered it down in my opinion. Images are now worth less than they were in the past. Everything is too accessible and fleeting. I think we share too much. One of my main goals with my work has been to create a stronger love and respect for photography as a unique art form by creating more physical works instead of just letting my images live online.

Are there any particular subjects or themes you want to explore but haven’t yet?

In my opinion I need to spend more time developing my skills as a painter, but I'd love to explore sculpture and architecture. I have also been doing some digging into my family history and one of my main goals in life is to connect the missing links to my family tree. I would love to incorporate that into my work at some point.