"The process of making art has so much rhythm"
Sometimes all it takes to uncover a new world with a familiar rhythm is a simple space and a lot of imagination. Joy Yamusangie comes with both these things. From their unassuming studio in London, Joy’s bright, dreamy artistry takes it cues from everything from fantastical jazz bars to novels by Jackie Kay. Their explorations of trans masculinity, human intimacy and Blackness has seen their work showcased by the likes of the Tate, the Royal Academy of the Arts, Tiwani Contemporary, Vogue and Penguin. We caught up with Joy on a bright spring day in Clapton, London, to find out what makes them tick.
You’re proficient in a diverse array of practices and media. Drawing, painting, screen-printing, collage, film, sculpture...I could go on. Where do you think this fluidity stems from? Do you think multiplicity should matter to every artist?
It comes from curiosity - that's what makes art so exciting. It’s what drew me to this life in the first place. I like imagining what it would be like to try new techniques or thinking about alternative ways to experiment if I don’t have access to specific equipment, and imagining gradually turns into doing. I don’t think that this is the way every artist needs to be. So many incredible artists home in on one medium, and I think that's just as beautiful.
Story and conceptual thinking seems massive for you. From jazz clubs to books by Jackie Kay, mythical water deities, personal memory. I wanted to ask a bit about that overlap between the factual and the imagined. Is it an easy sweet spot to get to creatively? Does one take precedence over the other? Why do you find yourself working in this way?
The line between dream and reality within my work is often blurred. When I create stories or characters, there's always a form of truth at play beneath the surface. A lot of my work is self-portraiture, or it draws on a version of myself. There’s a painting of mine called The Musician that comes from the story of Mami Wata, a water deity who goes by different names across the diaspora but has been said to change form and gender freely. There’s an element of reality within this painting, because people tell different Mami Wata stories. Some worship her, some live in fear and some say she’s just folklore; they don’t believe she exists. Through my own identity as a trans person, I could relate to that. Transness is something many people fear or believe doesn’t exist. So there are ways I project my own personal truths onto imagined characters to give the artworks depth.
Can you tell us a bit about your process? Do you have an idea then jump in, 'do the thing' as it were? Or are you one of those artists who likes to sit on a project for a while, let it percolate until you’re ready?
I used to be able to jump straight into an idea. When I was younger everything felt like it had to be got down quickly, but now I appreciate slowness. I sketch all of my ideas at a small scale, trying not to be too precious. I’ll let an idea simmer then come back to it later. If I still love the idea, that’s when I’ll turn it into a reality beyond the sketchbook.
Your work seems to be permeated with a sense of, well, joy. Liberation and realisation is explored throughout your art. Would you agree with that? Can you talk a bit about how that came about, what you find cathartic in your work?
Drawing has been a method I turn to on all occasions. Joy, sadness, whenever — it all depends on the piece. I find process grounding, spending time painting dots to a rhythm or carving away at lino. With carving, painting or drawing, it’s the repetition of movement that I find soothing. They feel like moments where my brain can switch off from the over stimulation of technology and modern day life; I become hyper-focused on moving my body. There’s something comforting in that as a routine. My mind enjoys the peacefulness it brings.
We caught up with you in your London studio. How does the space and London itself fulfil you as an artist? Is there anything about the city that keeps you around as opposed to upping sticks and moving somewhere more remote?
I love a sunny day in London. There’s just so much happening. Music, art, food; inspirations are everywhere. Having London as a home city is a gift because artists from all over the world pass through. I’ve made friends with some amazing creatives over the years. Just the other day I was catching up with Jon Key, an artist from the US who’s just released Black Queer & Untold a book on black queer art and design. Being able to meet artists I admire like Jon, leaning about their journeys in making and creating and having conversations about what it’s like in the industry is so helpful. It can really keep you going as an artist.
What about your inspirations? It would be great to hear a little about the art or people in your life who’ve influenced you as a person and a creator. Who or what are they and why?
There are so many people, paintings and visuals that have inspired me. I do remember specifically one artwork that I first encountered when I was in college. It’s a painting called The Man in the Blue Hat by Fernand Leger. I was drawn to the outlining of this figure and the objects within the frame. It reminded me of comics, illustrations, cartoons, but it was unmistakably high art. It will always be one of my favourites.
You often work to music and have had your shows soundtracked. How did music become so important to your practice? Is it important in the same way now as it was when you started as an artist?
Music and art are so closely intertwined with me. When I’m at work in the studio, the radio’s always on. The sound sets the pace, influencing every brush stroke I make, every line I draw. The process of making art has so much rhythm. Ever since my first solo exhibition in 2018, I’ve made a playlist to accompany the work when it goes on show. So it’s just as important to me now as it was then. It helps tell me tell my stories.
A lot of my paintings are attached to specific songs. Remember Me - Rodeo King is directly connected to Diana Ross’ song Remember Me. My painting Two Faced Boot is connected to David Bowie’s Young Americans, and a screenprint I made called Half Moonlight I pair with Yaya Bey’s song Real Yearners Unite. It’s not always the lyrics, it’s the way a song makes me feel. The energy soundtracks the art and vice versa.
How do you find showing your work? What’s it like turning it over to other people to interpret?
I am a bit of an introvert so this is something I am still getting used to. It can feel scary, like my thoughts and feelings have been made visible, and that’s a vulnerable place to find yourself. But increasingly, I feel like this kind of openness makes it easier for other people to connect with my work, or at least to understand my intention behind it. But again, that’s still something I’m adapting to!
Finally, a quick note on colour. Your use of colour is amazing! Is there a method to how you use it? How do you pick it? Were you trained in its application?
To be honest, I don’t really think about it for too long! It almost feels like instinct mixed with confidence. I love sweet reds, deep blues and eggy yellows, and I gravitate to primary colours. They go with everything — or at least, I tell myself they do.
This last part is where we ask you to send some cultural inspiration out into the world, recommending 5 Good Things and the reasons why you chose them.
A restaurant or cafe you like in your city.
Deserted Cactus on Rye Lane, Peckham
A film everyone should watch.
My Fathers Shadow by Akinola Davies Jr.
A book everyone should read.
Where You Go I Will Go by Christina Fonthes
A musical album or artist who means something to you.
Mali by Shy One. It's perfect listening for when it’s time to get stuff done.
Where you’d send someone if they were visiting your city or hometown for the first time.
Hampstead Heath in summer
You can learn more about Joy's work here. They wore our 7012 Champ joggers, the 3049 Evo shell coat and 3050 Evo liner jacket as well as a 3001 Overshirt in Burst Grape and our 7006 Signature T-shirt.
5 Good Things - Joy Yamusangie - London
"The process of making art has so much rhythm"
Sometimes all it takes to uncover a new world with a familiar rhythm is a simple space and a lot of imagination. Joy Yamusangie comes with both these things. From their unassuming studio in London, Joy’s bright, dreamy artistry takes it cues from everything from fantastical jazz bars to novels by Jackie Kay. Their explorations of trans masculinity, human intimacy and Blackness has seen their work showcased by the likes of the Tate, the Royal Academy of the Arts, Tiwani Contemporary, Vogue and Penguin. We caught up with Joy on a bright spring day in Clapton, London, to find out what makes them tick.
You’re proficient in a diverse array of practices and media. Drawing, painting, screen-printing, collage, film, sculpture...I could go on. Where do you think this fluidity stems from? Do you think multiplicity should matter to every artist?
It comes from curiosity - that's what makes art so exciting. It’s what drew me to this life in the first place. I like imagining what it would be like to try new techniques or thinking about alternative ways to experiment if I don’t have access to specific equipment, and imagining gradually turns into doing. I don’t think that this is the way every artist needs to be. So many incredible artists home in on one medium, and I think that's just as beautiful.
Story and conceptual thinking seems massive for you. From jazz clubs to books by Jackie Kay, mythical water deities, personal memory. I wanted to ask a bit about that overlap between the factual and the imagined. Is it an easy sweet spot to get to creatively? Does one take precedence over the other? Why do you find yourself working in this way?
The line between dream and reality within my work is often blurred. When I create stories or characters, there's always a form of truth at play beneath the surface. A lot of my work is self-portraiture, or it draws on a version of myself. There’s a painting of mine called The Musician that comes from the story of Mami Wata, a water deity who goes by different names across the diaspora but has been said to change form and gender freely. There’s an element of reality within this painting, because people tell different Mami Wata stories. Some worship her, some live in fear and some say she’s just folklore; they don’t believe she exists. Through my own identity as a trans person, I could relate to that. Transness is something many people fear or believe doesn’t exist. So there are ways I project my own personal truths onto imagined characters to give the artworks depth.
Can you tell us a bit about your process? Do you have an idea then jump in, 'do the thing' as it were? Or are you one of those artists who likes to sit on a project for a while, let it percolate until you’re ready?
I used to be able to jump straight into an idea. When I was younger everything felt like it had to be got down quickly, but now I appreciate slowness. I sketch all of my ideas at a small scale, trying not to be too precious. I’ll let an idea simmer then come back to it later. If I still love the idea, that’s when I’ll turn it into a reality beyond the sketchbook.
Your work seems to be permeated with a sense of, well, joy. Liberation and realisation is explored throughout your art. Would you agree with that? Can you talk a bit about how that came about, what you find cathartic in your work?
Drawing has been a method I turn to on all occasions. Joy, sadness, whenever — it all depends on the piece. I find process grounding, spending time painting dots to a rhythm or carving away at lino. With carving, painting or drawing, it’s the repetition of movement that I find soothing. They feel like moments where my brain can switch off from the over stimulation of technology and modern day life; I become hyper-focused on moving my body. There’s something comforting in that as a routine. My mind enjoys the peacefulness it brings.
We caught up with you in your London studio. How does the space and London itself fulfil you as an artist? Is there anything about the city that keeps you around as opposed to upping sticks and moving somewhere more remote?
I love a sunny day in London. There’s just so much happening. Music, art, food; inspirations are everywhere. Having London as a home city is a gift because artists from all over the world pass through. I’ve made friends with some amazing creatives over the years. Just the other day I was catching up with Jon Key, an artist from the US who’s just released Black Queer & Untold a book on black queer art and design. Being able to meet artists I admire like Jon, leaning about their journeys in making and creating and having conversations about what it’s like in the industry is so helpful. It can really keep you going as an artist.
What about your inspirations? It would be great to hear a little about the art or people in your life who’ve influenced you as a person and a creator. Who or what are they and why?
There are so many people, paintings and visuals that have inspired me. I do remember specifically one artwork that I first encountered when I was in college. It’s a painting called The Man in the Blue Hat by Fernand Leger. I was drawn to the outlining of this figure and the objects within the frame. It reminded me of comics, illustrations, cartoons, but it was unmistakably high art. It will always be one of my favourites.
You often work to music and have had your shows soundtracked. How did music become so important to your practice? Is it important in the same way now as it was when you started as an artist?
Music and art are so closely intertwined with me. When I’m at work in the studio, the radio’s always on. The sound sets the pace, influencing every brush stroke I make, every line I draw. The process of making art has so much rhythm. Ever since my first solo exhibition in 2018, I’ve made a playlist to accompany the work when it goes on show. So it’s just as important to me now as it was then. It helps tell me tell my stories.
A lot of my paintings are attached to specific songs. Remember Me - Rodeo King is directly connected to Diana Ross’ song Remember Me. My painting Two Faced Boot is connected to David Bowie’s Young Americans, and a screenprint I made called Half Moonlight I pair with Yaya Bey’s song Real Yearners Unite. It’s not always the lyrics, it’s the way a song makes me feel. The energy soundtracks the art and vice versa.
I am a bit of an introvert so this is something I am still getting used to. It can feel scary, like my thoughts and feelings have been made visible, and that’s a vulnerable place to find yourself. But increasingly, I feel like this kind of openness makes it easier for other people to connect with my work, or at least to understand my intention behind it. But again, that’s still something I’m adapting to!
Finally, a quick note on colour. Your use of colour is amazing! Is there a method to how you use it? How do you pick it? Were you trained in its application?
To be honest, I don’t really think about it for too long! It almost feels like instinct mixed with confidence. I love sweet reds, deep blues and eggy yellows, and I gravitate to primary colours. They go with everything — or at least, I tell myself they do.
This last part is where we ask you to send some cultural inspiration out into the world, recommending 5 Good Things and the reasons why you chose them.
A restaurant or cafe you like in your city.
Deserted Cactus on Rye Lane, Peckham
A film everyone should watch.
My Fathers Shadow by Akinola Davies Jr.
A book everyone should read.
Where You Go I Will Go by Christina Fonthes
A musical album or artist who means something to you.
Mali by Shy One. It's perfect listening for when it’s time to get stuff done.
Where you’d send someone if they were visiting your city or hometown for the first time.
Hampstead Heath in summer
You can learn more about Joy's work here. They wore our 7012 Champ joggers, the 3049 Evo shell coat and 3050 Evo liner jacket as well as a 3001 Overshirt in Burst Grape and our 7006 Signature T-shirt.