Portrait by Ryan McGinley
K.O. Nnamdie
A conversation with multi-talented curator K.O. Nnamdie on his formative years and creative practice.
Interview by Sascha Behrendt
K.O. Nnamdie is a curator, art advisor, and artist based in New York City. A Director of anonymous gallery, he founded Restaurant Projects for curatorial ventures in 2018. His work ethos is driven by hospitality and inclusivity, with exhibitions showing a signature conceptual approach. Nnamdie was included in the Observer's Arts Power 50 in 2021. Anonymous gallery's show base note runs September 8 – October 29th, 2022.
Sascha Behrendt: I would like to start with your curatorial practice as your approach is so interesting. You’ve said it's like creating a ‘frozen moment.’ What do you mean?
K.O. Nnamdie: The act of capturing or freezing a moment is connected to my past profession of image making and preserving an energy, a memory. Although I don't make photographs in the standard sense anymore, I still honor its practice, and intuitively pull knowledge from my experience.
SB: You started out as a photographer at 13 years old. Were you professional already at that age? How did you educate yourself within the medium?
KN: Yeah, I was taking it very seriously. I was a pretty serious child. I enjoyed educating myself through books and magazines, be it fashion or nature. Then, I started using Flickr to research the camera and film combinations I wanted to try out. I surfed the web early on for a lot of things. I can get bored easily, and photography supported my interest in cycling through references at my own pace. Growing up as the last child of four sisters, I tended to gravitate towards older people and spirits. I had support from important elders as well.
SB: How did you end up next making sculptures, what were they like, and who influenced you?
KN: Simply because I was encouraged. My mother raised me between Houston and Miami in homes filled with beautiful ceramic sculptures. Some were in the likeness of animals, people, or a large porcelain money tree. In grade school, I was enrolled in a woodshop class that I absolutely loved. Excited by the challenge, I started to take it seriously. My first sculptures, in the beginning, were made from wood that has similar metaphysical properties to Palo Santo. Except this wood is from Nigeria and used for ritual use. One sculpture I think about a lot is a strong standing male figure drumming proudly alone.
SB: What were your early formative experiences? Were your parents supportive of your inclination towards the arts?
KN: Early on in Houston I imagined that I was a cowboy, "smoking" candy cigarettes and riding horses. My Miami experiences were more slowed down, with my mom taking an interest in me writing poetry for her every Friday, learning salsa and enjoying Cuban coffee at a young age. My mother is a doctor and my father who is no longer with us, was an accountant for British Petroleum and a published author. My Dad and Mom were supportive to a degree, but ultimately prefered I get a job as a doctor or lawyer.
N.O. Nnamdie, Black Victory, 2012, west african wood, house paint, dust, breath, tears, sweat, blood, artist’s bodily fluids, powdered glass, white sand and citrine crystal
SB: You have described your perspective and taste as coming from your Nigerian as well as American cultural roots. How do they intersect?
KN: Throughout my life, I have always been connected to my roots in Nigeria. I moved around a bit within the two states, Texas and Florida where I was raised. I am fully able to adjust. My sensibilities as a Nigerian are informed in my life's work and curatorial practice through a deep commitment to communities.
SB: You appreciate fashion. Does that love cross over into your art?
KN: I used to be a fashion photographer, so all that I've learned in that field has transferred over into my practice as an artist. My interest in textures, silhouettes, narration, and overall presentation of work is considered with my prior experience in fashion.
SB: And your former tap dancing and acting… do those find a way also?
KN: I really thought I would be a tap dancer, it's a bit comical to me now. Although, I would be daring to put on my shoes (yes, I have tap dancing shoes) and practice in my courtyard sometime. Dancing is another form of connecting with my ancestors, it's a ritual for me. Who hasn't danced around their photographic subject, a painting in the studio or sculpture before? For me, acting still does find its way into my practice. In the studio I rely on past exercises my acting coach in Aventura, FL taught me. I step into the headspace of certain unconscious archetypes to birth artworks sometimes. Although now I find I don't often perform a character as much to make certain pieces.
SB: Can you tell me about your recent curatorial show at Fragment Gallery, The Last Day of Disco?
KN: For The Last Day of Disco, my initial interest was in my experience of what happens when a cultural hub (i.e., club, bar, or lounge) goes belly up. What happens to the demographic and the culture that was formed within it. I am using nightlife and the heaviness of the pandemic halting our experience of being together as a jump-off point. To speak to the serious importance of these safe spaces, where a certain kind of dialogue is welcomed and encouraged. The original film, The Last Days of Disco, is highlighting a privileged group of people, who live to go out and go out to live. These people at times have incredibly challenging as well as boring conversations in the clubs they attend. Kayode Ojo's new video work in my show manages to spotlight in a searing way both their relationship, and Kate Beckinsale's and Chloë Sevigny's characters. We've all interfaced with these archetypes before that these actresses are portraying.
The Last Days of Disco (installation view), 2022, Fragment Gallery, New York
Claire Fontaine, 371 Grand (The keys open the Reena Spaulings gallery), 2006, metal key and wire, 3 x 1 x 1/2 inch. Courtesy of The Sepulveda-Beck Collection
Kayode Ojo, That black guy that only fucks architects, 2022, kettle one vodka bottles (chilled at zero degree celsius), refrigerator
SB: You also performed in that show.
KN: Yeah, the show closed with a three-day performance by me titled I’M SINGLE (A-LONER), where I recited CA Conrad poems, sang Drake’s A Keeper, a rendition of Frank Sinatra’s New York, New York, read my poetry and danced as a raver. These actions were repeated over and over, for 4 hrs.
SB: Moving now onto a different topic, how did you get to select the ingenious fashion designer and artist Andre Walker for your Vegyn exhibition?
KN: I got the opportunity to work with him by coming correct. Andre Walker is an elegantly beautiful spirit who is so generous with his time, energy and knowledge. I approached him as such. I saw his work and was amazed and just asked him about it. It was so important to work with a figure like Andre because I knew he was directly inspiring not only his generation but mine and generation z. His commitment to his craft and practice is strongly rooted in longevity. I have the utmost respect for him.
Andre Walker, Ruling Class Series: “Multiple Personalysis And Order” (detail), 2021, watercolor on cotton paper, 7 3/4 x 7 3/4 inches
Vegyn (installation view), 2022, anonymous Gallery, New York. Photograph by Shark Senesac
SB: Who were your early inspirations and mentors for art? You mention that Okwui Enwezor had a huge impact on you. Can you talk a bit about that?
KN: Grace Jones and Ryan Trecartin were earlier inspirations for my art practice. I have an expanded range of ideas and visuals, and these two are quite limitless in ways I still find to be inspiring. I became aware of Enwezor earlier on in my curatorial practice. This was at a time long after my father's passing, and I needed a mentor. I connected with Enwezor's story, his strength and his unwavering spirit to be committed to so many African diasporic experiences. Which is what it takes to make the shifts that he did culturally in and outside of the art world... His passing was very hard, it felt like my father had passed again.
SB: Your shows are full of tenderness and community spirit, especially with live performances. Can you share your process and how your work fits within the New York art dialogue?
KN: With my work, I am consistently striving at making sense of the world around me, whilst resisting common oversimplifications. It's important for me to be on the ground and understand things for what they are first-hand. This leads me to be engaged and entrenched in communities and topics with an empathetic focus on highlighting the difficult and easy parts equally. My exhibitions grow out of one of the most crucial qualities of successful programming across continents and histories, and that is collaboration. I often collaborate with the exhibiting artists I show. I tend to approach conceiving an exhibition similarly to how I would make a meal. The ingredients and their freshness, the story evoked, when it's plated are just as important as the presentation of the meal itself. Everything is considered. All things point back to hospitality, to take care.
Metatopia 10013, 2022, anonymous Gallery, New York. Event performance by Abbas Zahedi. Organized and hosted by poet David Lindsey, featuring performance by Lizzi Bougatsos and Adjua Gargi Nzinga Greaves. Image by Matthew Weinberger
SB: You are a Director of anonymous Gallery and were part of a beautiful show at 7 Gardens in New York. What was your highlight?
KN: Leading as Director at anonymous gallery, 7 Gardens has been in the works for two years, and started shaping up in February. With the Gallery Manager, Neem Sarkez doing initial reach out to the gardens in the East Village. We then tapped curator, Lola Krammer to help organize the outdoor exhibition together with the gallery. My highlight from the exhibition was working with artist, writer, editor and publisher Kandis Williams to present her plant arrangements and Cassandra Press readers. Williams uses the plant body to otherwise codify what social realities exist for bodies impacted by exclusion from and/or proximity to "white roots." These works, as well as her Cassandra Press readers & zines, draw deeply important connections that I know the public will resonate with. As a steadfast researcher Williams shares these intellectual insights in her photocopied readers and zines, on the topics of Plants movement, metaphor and migration, the Libidinal Economy and Racial Colonial Implications of the children of the Greek mythological gods NYX and EREBUS to name a few.
Kandis Williams, 7 Gardens (installation view), anonymous gallery, New York, 2022. Photograph by Carter Seddon
Robert Gober, 7 Gardens (installation view), anonymous gallery, New York, 2022. Photograph by Carter Seddon
7 Gardens exhibition poster, anonymous gallery, New York, 2022
SB: What do you feel is important right now?
KN: Moving past rigid systems in an unconventional way.
SB: Your coming show base note will feature smell. Can you tell us more about that and why you wanted to put it on?
KN: base note will feature a scent made by ES-84 also known as EAU SHIT, a concept-driven fragrance company. It will be created by the duo Ricky Chapman and Parker Manis, who have collaborated on projects spanning fashion, beauty, photo, and industrial design. Lingering rhythms is something to consider with base note. I love the idea of the residue of something lingering about.
Sascha Behrendt is a writer and former Associate Publisher for artcritical.com. Behrendt has lived in Paris, Berlin, London, and New York. Before focusing on art, she worked with Stella McCartney and graphic designer Peter Saville. She has written about and interviewed artists such as Arthur Jafa, Dana Hoey, Nicola Tyson, Arlene Shechet, and Francesca Woodman for artcritical, BOMB, and Reflektor magazine.