Artist Gwladys Gambie talked with C&AL as she packed for the return trip her home country, Martinique, after a three-month residency in Paris.
Gwladys Gambie, Reparations, work in progress, artistic residency SHAR, 2020. Photo: Gwladys Gambie. Courtesy of the artist.
Gwladys Gambie, Archipéli-Ko (Archipelago), 2019, Festival of Fort de France, Martinique. Photo: Gwladys Gambie. Courtesy of the artist.
Gwladys Gambie, Manman Chadwon Wouj (Red Mama Sea Urchin), 2020. Photo: Gérard Maximin. Courtesy of the Artist.
C&AL: Who is Gwladys Gambie?
Gwladys Gambie: I am a young, discreet, mysterious artist, with dreams. I have been drawing since I was a child. Initially, I wanted to be a designer. I ended up studying Fine Arts, but I continue to be connected to fashion and textiles, and I recently started embroidering. Not having become a designer could be considered a failure, but as an artist I am able to realize that dream more freely. Also, I am very shy, and art is a way for me to express myself. As a suburban, overweight black woman the path has not been easy. I almost left Art school and today I am happy that I did not give up because the setbacks have fueled my creativity. I know very well what I don’t want, and that is what guides me.
C&AL: Tell me a little about self-representation – your feminist stance around your body and the fusion between body and nature.
GG: Working with my own body has allowed me to assert myself. My practice is to question my body as an overweight black woman in a society where overweight women are outside the norms of sensuality, beauty, and eroticism. I emphasize that body, which could be the body of any overweight woman. The fusion between body and landscape in the series Anatomie du sensible (Anatomy of the Sensible) occurs naturally because human beings are not separate from nature. My poetic language was established in this way. That is what allows me to approach sensuality without being literal, incorporating organic forms, like flowers, plants, and marine animals. As a woman, my relationship with nature is very intimate. There is a closeness with the sea, the idea of the womb. I would not call myself feminist because I am not militant, but my artistic work is engaged, including my use of the Creole language in my drawings, to assert Martinican culture. The feminine bodies in my works are attractive and frightening at the same time. The ambivalence between seduction and violence is an expression of my rejection of the system. As an overweight black woman, I am made invisible, discriminated against. Even when it comes to love, we are the objects of sexual attraction, rarely the objects of socially accepted love relationships. Add to that the colorism and daily violence against women in a society dominated by men. I am driven by social criticism; poetics is what allows me to avoid depiction and the obvious in my practice.
C&AL: There is also a discreet albeit constant, illusion to an ancestral spirituality, especially with your avatar Manman Chadwon (Mama Sea Urchin).
GG: Manman Chadwon is my alter ego, a sort of divine representation of me. She frees me of inhibitions, accentuates my connection with nature, and raises me up. Creating that character is part of my search for a connection with my African ancestry, which is particular to my generation. As Afro-descendants, we want to overcome the ghosts and establish a true and deep connection with our Africanness. Manman Chadwon is a descendant of Manman DLo, a kind of Martinican version of Yemanjá. She appeared in 2018 and remains present. She metamorphoses, is covered with thorns, and has three eyes, but could have a tail or change skin during a full moon. She is a myth, a Caribbean tale, a spiritual path of connection to the African continent and to me as a powerful, emancipated woman. Other feminine characters appear in my drawings: giants, which I launched in Miami, mirroring the verticality of the huge, terrifying skyscrapers, and the women-machines that emerged during my Homo Sargassum residency (Martinique, 2021).
C&AL: Did the pandemic have an impact on your projects or your creative process?
GG: During quarantine in 2020, I participated in two residencies at home. It was paradoxical because residency normally implies traveling to a place and immersing yourself in that place; and it gives rise to new discoveries. In May 2020 (16M2 residency), I was cooped up at home alone, and it was very unsettling. I had to adapt and develop new methods. I started embroidering and, because of the restrictions imposed by the lockdown, I had to use the materials I had on hand: basically, a curtain that was a little ripped. I made use of it by embroidering over some of the rips, which simultaneously repaired the curtain and myself. It was a meditation, an act of self-care, at once for me as well as a creative act. After that I participated in Fresh Milk and Kingston Creative’s CATAPULT / SHAR residency program. I continued with my embroidery work in another way, by combining embroidery, text, and scars on my body in the frame. Those were positive experiences, even if it was not at all easy to motivate myself to work at home. Anyway, in quarantine, being in pajamas all the time, you cannot even tell anymore if it is day or night. Cancelling the Mercosul Biennial in Porto Alegre was especially upsetting. Actually, it ended up being virtual, but my project was an on-site creation. And I ended up showing my sketches for the project and my usual work online, which was frustrating. The Saint Etienne Biennial, for which my work was also selected, quickly closed its doors because of Covid. The pandemic has affected us cruelly because, as artists, we were already living precariously and it just exacerbated everything: how we live, eat, create, and the end of this is nowhere in sight.
Gwladys Gambie, Métaphore du piékoko (The Metaphor of the Coconut Tree), 2021, Photo: Gwladys Gambie. Courtesy of the artist.
C&AL: Could you talk about your current projects?
GG: The Homo Sargassum residency (Tout-Monde Art Foundation) was held in early 2021, at an industrial site in Martinique. There were restrictions, but we had access to the industrial installations. Unfortunately, the artists from Jamaica could only participate virtually. After that I came to Paris for the ONDES residency in the Cité des Arts, three-months in a studio workshop with more than 260 artists. We did not always see one another, but at times we could meet and possibly collaborate. Meeting so many artists from so many places in the middle of Paris, being able to see exhibitions and make new international connections was very stimulating—artistically, intellectually, in every way. The work was happening, in theory, in an open-door format with each of us in our studios, but some of my drawings were selected for a show at the da Cité des Arts Gallery, and that was really gratifying. My future projects include participating in NA LIBANDA (Artistic Caribbean Network and French Institute) from 2021 to 2023 with various artists from Martinique, Guadeloupe, and DR Congo.
Interview conducted by Matilde dos Santos, historian, writer, and Brazilian curator based in Martinique.
Translation from Portuguese Sara Hanaburgh