Rooted to the spot, grounded by the awe and wonder of nature, an expertly crafted image of black femininity basks in the illuminating light of insight. Her third eye activated, her eyelids relax as intuition lulls her regular receptors, allowing them to rest. This perfectly sculpted black female ornament has been created by the young female artist, Sabina Silver, whose craftsmanship mirrors that of her Ghanaian forefathers. This image ‘Roots’ that she has produced as part of her series Children of the Sun, is an embodiment of pious serenity much like the ancient Akan nsodie (memorial head) that were laid with deceased dignitaries to comfort them in the afterlife. Using what she terms ‘super black’ acrylic paint, the audacious artist sculpts skin that radiantly shines like polished onyx and with electric crimson, she adorns this divine woman’s being with a bright and bold halo. In doing this, she boldly and intentionally defies the old English Sumptuary law, which once monitored the consumption of the royal hue, designating it only for those they considered ‘royal’ or ‘noble’. By placing her black female subject in the centre of a world oozing regality, she elevates the notion of blackness aligning it with holiness conjuring a sense of sensual divinity. What a delight!
Having been mesmerised by this piece and then the others in the series, I deemed it a crime to not find out more about the creator of these beautiful depictions of blackness. The woman I discovered left me feeling humbled and honoured. This young and brave Ghanaian custodian and creator of culture, black culture, was a highly articulate and calculated craftswoman whose paintbrush did not move without a clear intention being set. Having moved to the UK from Ghana as a young child, she was introduced to racism in a most profound and soul-shattering way. However, thanks to the makeup of our DNA which is laced with resilience, she has been able to thrive and blossom into a courageous and charismatic woman who is on a mission to change the face of society through her art. In one of the most inspiring chats I’ve had with an artist this year, she talked me through her journey into the art world, which unfortunately was not free from endless stumbles over imposter syndrome. However, despite this, every phrase that she released from my mouth, I saw was bound by the vibrant green thread of growth, red of power and yellow of enlightenment. She emanated the pride and strength of a Ghanaian first, followed closely by that of a black female. As she spoke, her raw honesty about her experience in The UK and subsequent insecurities resonated with me and helped amplify the messages she has so sophisticatedly sewn into her canvases. I assure you that Sabina Silver is a name to take note of.
Where do you think your passion for art came from?
I’m Ghanaian, born and raised in Ghana. I only came to The UK around the age of 10. Until then, my family and I lived in Kumasi and I have happy memories of Ghana. My family are Northerners from Bolgatanga, which is quite well known for its art scene. I have memories of the baskets and going to different areas and just seeing the creativity. So, I kind of know that innately in my culture, in the North, we’re into that, we love Art- we love painting and drawing. In my family that’s been something that we do, but I wouldn’t say I saw it in myself as a talent, that's just what people in my tribe did. However, when I got to London, that changed. I think sometime after being here, I had a lot of questions like many young people do, about blackness, especially because I had never experienced racism before I came to The UK. Soon after I arrived it just kind of hit me; the level of alienation I felt upon my initial arrival I can’t even describe.
How did your move to the UK affect you?
I think for a few years I was incredibly quiet about my feelings. We spoke English in Ghana and schooled English too, but it felt very different being here and actually speaking it. I felt like I didn’t really have much of a voice. Maybe because of how the Ghanaian education system is, you speak when you’re spoken to, so I think I was kind of used to that system of how to interact with people. As a consequence, I just never really spoke. I remember a few months ago watching a documentary about a girl with selective mutism and I think that’s exactly what I was doing at the time without realising. I could speak, I could vocalise myself but, around people I didn't know and in a strange environment, as a young child, I felt nervous. The words literally felt like they couldn’t come out. It was like when you’re in a dream and you want to speak but you somehow can’t. It was a hard thing to live with; it was very vivid- the feeling of wanting to have a voice but not being able to. For years, I just never spoke and it got so bad that I would say, for most of my life, people called me the wrong name and I never corrected them. I physically didn’t have the voice to say ‘actually no, it’s not Sabena, it’s not the European version, it’s Sabina.'
When did things begin to change?
It was when I began studying for my GCSEs that I realized I liked drawing. I liked experimenting and a lot of my friends were also arty, so I chose to pursue art. Thankfully my parents are very liberal and they didn't pressure me to choose something more conventional like something in the medical field or to be a lawyer. They just said do what makes you happy so I chose art. I decided to continue studying it all the way through to A levels because I enjoyed it so much. Then, I got my results. They were the lowest of low. In History, however, I got an A. After taking a closer look, I then decided that whilst I do like doing art, academically, how it is graded, meant I’d always get a low grade. I think it was because I wasn’t good with grasping how they wanted me to write, and it was also my command of the English language at the time. I remember feeling I really want to do this as a career but how am I going to do anything in life if I’m getting such low grades. I decided to choose to study Politics and History in university and put Art on the back burner.
So how did you come to be an artist?
I started to focus on History and Politics, but I had a feeling inside me that said, ‘No! Actually, I should go where my heart is no matter what the system is telling me.’ I could feel it in the work that I created that I enjoyed Art and I loved doing it. I felt like if I could do this thing for the rest of my life, I would die a happy person. I then chose to pursue it. Of course, I was already knee-deep into a degree in International Relations and History. I got my degree after some years, spending £9,000 for each of them, but still thought to myself let me go back to what I like doing and let me explore that. Honestly, I just didn’t want to die with any of my talents inside of me. I feel like this is my purpose. I feel like I have so much to say and art has not only given me a voice to speak my mind but has also allowed me to reflect upon who I am as a person. Acknowledging this has helped me to ensure I paint visible narratives of us, narratives I never felt I saw even in art. I never saw anyone who was black, let alone a woman too. So, although initially, I felt like this was something I maybe shouldn’t be doing, I have done it because we are living in bolder times and we’re taking risks.
What was the moment you realised you were an artist?
The moment I realised I was an artist was when I decided I was an artist. Although I’ve been painting throughout my time navigating the International Development sector, I think it’s only this year that I’ve been saying it fully, wholeheartedly. If someone asked me who are you? Then I'd say I'm an artist and I say that, full stop and there’s nothing more to it.
How much has Instagram influenced or impacted your journey?
I’m going to start with the pros. I have taken a lot of inspiration from Instagram. I remember maybe in 2018 seeing Sarah Owusu’s work and I was like 'Oh My God she’s Ghanaian!' I remember feeling ecstatic and following her, commenting, liking and just generally interacting with her. This was the first time I’d seen a woman, a black woman and a Ghanaian woman pursuing art. This gave me a lot of inspiration to even begin and to think Sabina this is something that you could do. The social media platform provided a space in which I could ask Sarah questions and she reciprocated giving me great advice. She told me things I don’t think I would have known or even thought to ask about. She was just very open. On Instagram, I was also exposed to a wider range of art that I hadn’t seen before being on social media. I feel like up until then the way I saw art was very white. What I had viewed in galleries lacked complexity with regards to the narrative it told, which barely focussed on people of colour or black people specifically. I would visit galleries and think ‘this is colonial art’. Deep down I knew I wanted to relate to art a bit more than I was. I wanted to see more from people that looked like me, are young and vibrant or maybe even those older than me that I can learn from. And that’s what I got from Instagram. A big part of my journey now is art history. I dedicate time every day to studying it.
What have you discovered from your ‘Art History’ studies?
I started by thinking who are the artists you need to read up on, and googling names. I googled phrases like the ‘top artists of the 21st century,' and it would always generate a long list of white names and predominantly white men, and this would infuriate me. I then decided to google just female artists, and... a long list of white women, and a random image of Kara Walker and Frieda Kahlo. I remember thinking ‘you’re telling me that in the history of art there are only two women of colour? This is not ok, this can’t be right.’ So after that, I was like that’s it, I’m scrapping this version of art history. I then went onto Youtube where I came across a channel that had interviews with Ghanaian artists. The work of the artists was familiar but I never knew the artists. The first person I came across was Professor Ablade Glover. Seeing him speak about his practice made my heart smile, and looking at him I couldn't help thinking ‘you could be my dad or my uncle.’ There was a lot of joy in the way that he spoke about art. It seemed to me that to him it was nice that he was acknowledged for his art, but he wasn’t reliant on this- he genuinely loved it and if art hadn’t paid him, he would still be invested with all of his heart. Other than him I came across Marigold Akufo-Addo. I thought I'd never heard of you before but you’re amazing. If it wasn’t for the internet and social media I wouldn't feel as whole in my journey as I currently do. I think I’d still be stumbling through the dark figuring out what art looks like for Ghanaians- what we consider art history and who was doing it before I was. The internet and social media have opened up a wonderful door to a place that I’m still digging through and the process is really beautiful.
Talk me through the cons of Instagram.
When I first said I wanted to do art properly I was into philanthropy work. I was one of the co-founders of an NGO ‘Change for Ghana’. I had also just come off the back of Miss Ghana UK (2017-2018) which I won. One of the reasons for taking part in Miss Ghana was for the reach it’d give me. At the time I was working for a mental health charity and I wanted to use that platform to talk more about it. People knew me for this and when I was posting content related to Miss Ghana UK or Change for Ghana I got a lot of likes and good interaction.
When I began to transition and started posting my artwork, I’d get no interaction and no likes; it made me think ‘Am I even talented?’ I didn’t understand it. It took me a while to realise I had to post for myself and I had to not question my art just because my current audience didn’t understand what it meant or where it came from. As well as this, I found that the rate at which I was expected to create art was ridiculous. Artists that I followed seemed to always be posting new works back to back. Such pressure I believed would infringe on what one might choose to produce in the end, so I resisted this temptation. One of my biggest fears though, born through engaging with artists’ work and journeys on social media, was not having social media likes and support translate into tangible customers. I believe this would stop me from feeling like I’ve actually achieved what I wanted. I would regularly see established artists posting about struggling and being exploited. That is what I want to avoid. It scares me that no matter how big an artist seems on social media, a lot of issues that I feel I’m facing as a new artist, they are also still experiencing.
How has your style evolved?
The theme throughout my work is always blackness and I don't think that is going to change. It’s such a big concept and I’m always chopping parts out of it and exploring that. When I began painting I remember a lot of people would say to me you need to find your style and it felt like the biggest cloud over my head. At that time I didn’t enjoy painting. You’ll notice in my earlier works that I was using a lot of red, black and white. I think this is reflective of how I felt; it was like a punch in the face. I enjoy doing this but there’s so much pressure and thus a kind of rage at the same time. I had to find a way to alleviate this, so I then began experimenting with different strokes and using different brushes. Ultimately I was just trying to figure out how my art was supposed to look, but I don’t think that is the question I should have been asking myself. I should have been doing it because I enjoyed it.
I think the change came when I painted John Boyega. I focussed very much on the features of his face, and at this moment realised that I love black faces.
Alleviated from the rage I’d previously felt, I began using colour again and the first painting I did that was pushing me in the right direction was the ‘African Sunset’. I just enjoyed painting it. I remember painting super black skin and enjoying that and being impressed with how I used white to create highlights. I decided to focus on this and think about how to create variation through changing brush strokes.
Tell me more about the Children of the Sun series.
When I decided on it, I really wanted to give this my all in terms of the build of everything that I feel like I had already learnt on my journey. One of the key things I wanted to get in there was that this is about ‘blackness’. This is about the different aspects of blackness and how colour reflects our feelings and how different items affect us. The items I primarily depict are plants. This is simply because, when I think about being back home in Ghana and I think about my upbringing, I think about feeling my feet in soil. I remember plants and trees and earthiness. I don't remember buildings and anything modern. Home just kind of felt calm and relaxed. Obviously, it was always from my point of view but I remember always feeling like the centre of everything - you know like nothing else matters. Therefore, in these pieces I've done, I try not to clutter the background.
Another key feature is inspired by something from my experience when I first came to the UK. I developed lots of insecurities that I don't think I should have allowed myself to have, but as a young girl that is what I was just going through. One of the things I did develop insecurity about was my eyes and the fact that they were not super white. Whilst this seems like a very small thing, I remember comparing myself to friends who had super bright white eyes. I grew up thinking, ‘why don't my eyes look like that?’ Obviously, I know now it had to do with living in Ghana and the sun and the sand and all things like that, but I almost had a disdain for the fact that my eyes had a yellowish tone. Later in life, I’ve been able to reframe my thinking and now I think, actually, if my mum has the same eyes as me, maybe this is just a reflection of one's life, what they've been through, what they've seen, the area in which they’ve lived. Actually, this is really beautiful! So I decided to paint the eyes of my subjects in the same colour as the background because that's the reflection of who they are.
Another feature of the series is the idea of holiness. I've been brought up in a Christian household and obviously when I would go to church I don't think I would ever see any visible images of holiness that were of people that looked like me. I think innately I may have developed this idea that the colour black cannot be holy. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve often pondered ‘how does that translate to how I see people and how does that translate to how others see blackness?’ I question, ‘when we look at blackness do we see any level of grace, any level of holiness, any level of innocence?’ The answer, I would argue, is often no. We are often quick to deem black people as evil or manipulative unless you're also black in which case you may have more grace for your fellow person, but generally the world doesn't look at us and see any level of purity and I thought I wanted to add this to my work. You will notice I have added a white outline around each subject of my pieces to show some sense of illumination. This has been done to show that this person can be enlightened, this person can grow in the sun, this person can be a holy individual: they can be everything good. They can be whoever they want to be and the sun shines on them as they are deserving of everything like everybody else. I think as I'm painting more and more I am also deciding how many highlights I want to give each piece or whether or not I want to really illuminate the face and take away from the blackness. I've come to the conclusion that I will illuminate faces based on the different stages of one's life to show how much one knows at different points. I appreciate the process that I'm going through and love my journey.
What's the biggest lesson you’ve had on this journey?
Being on this journey I have learnt a lot about some innate things I need to unlearn to do with the art world. When I started doing the series I had an idea of what I wanted to do but the more I did each piece the more questions I had about why I was maybe innately painting certain features or why my mind would go to certain places. Initially, when I was doing the green painting, symbolic of love amongst different things, I remember just trying to freestyle the face and straight away thinking to myself that the nose doesn't look like the nose of a black baby that I know. I questioned why my mind was telling me that that is how the nose should look. This was a lesson learnt that there are biases about how we look or what we think others might want to see beauty visibly. I thought I was quite learned in all these things but clearly, I need to unlearn certain things that might crop up. However, when I identify those things I’m glad I’m able to pull myself back and tell myself ok what do I want to show the world? What’s the vision I’m trying to convey? and I’m glad I’m able to see that.
Check out Sabina's website by clicking on the image below.
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