Q&A With Modupeola Fadugba

Modupeola Fadugba (moh-doo-pay-OH-lah fah-DOOG-bah) was born in Togo. “I was born in West Africa, lived in East Africa, in England, and in the United States,” she explains. “I just have this global perspective.” Read on to learn how her global experiences provide her with inspiration today. 

Modupeola Fadugba: My parents favored books and creativity to television or video games. They would even have art competitions for myself and my siblings. I was 5 when I won the first one. That’s what made me feel like maybe I had something, and it kind of just stuck with me.

MF: My art teacher in high school really encouraged me. I was at the top of the class, and she encouraged me to take it seriously. But I didn’t! I ended up studying chemical engineering, economics, and education before becoming a full-time artist.

MF: I went into chemical engineering because, quite simply, I wanted to make pharmaceuticals for Nigerians. When I was applying to colleges, there was a big problem with fake drugs infiltrating the country. And I thought, well, I’m going to study chemical engineering, and then problem-solve, right? That was my 17-year-old brain. Then I learned more about how the world works, how different countries sort of prosper or fail to prosper. All of those ideas and questions led me to study different things. And that brought me to a career in art.

MF: I’m looking at the erasure of women on monetary objects. I’m asking, How does that affect how everyone thinks about the value of women, specifically Black women? I grew up in the United Kingdom, where the Queen is on all the money. So the context is important, right? In England that was possible, but in Nigeria it’s all male portraits on currency. I wanted to create my own [currency], honoring women and their contributions to society.

MF: I first started painting swimmers because I had a picture of myself swimming, and I thought it’d be interesting to explore the way the sun hit the water. I first exhibited two or three of those paintings—of myself and friends swimming in Nigeria—in London. The reaction was pretty unanimous. Everyone was like, “Oh my gosh, this must be commentary on the stereotype that Black people can’t swim.” And I thought to myself, "Wait, what!? That’s not what I meant at all!” But I listened, did my own research, and learned that it’s not just a stereotype. According to the CDC, Black children in the U.S. are more likely to drown than other children there. I realized that the work had an additional meaning to this group of people. My work. prompted them to think about why they don’t know how to swim, why they never learned, and why there was so much fear around water for them.

MF: I am a swimmer! Each time I talk about the swimmers, I'm able to excavate a new angle in my relationship to water or to the sea. And it gets deeper and deeper. I did grow up by the ocean in Togo, and I was very afraid of the sea. I always felt that swimming pools are a lot more manageable.

MF: For some of the earlier paintings, I used gold acrylic paint, gold ink, and black ink. I started with different shades of gold as the base. And then I got texture and ripples by adding in lines. In some instances where the water is lightest, I added gold leaf. In Tagged: Reach, below, the splashes are gold leaf. For other paintings, like Black See, above, I choose a solid color for the background, and then I depict the bubbles and ripples with burned paper collage elements.

MF: They reference my time in Rwanda. Before we went to the U.K., my parents started working with the United Nations in Rwanda shortly after the genocide there. We were supposed to go to school there, but the schools were just in terrible states: burned, bombed, and bullet holes everywhere. It was a nation in recovery. That was an image I got very used to, and it’s something that has made its way into my visual vocabulary. It references ideas around trauma and my questions around why some nations do well and some don’t. It’s really encouraging and inspiring to see that in my short lifetime, that country is completely transformed. So it’s also a reminder of the potential for transformation.

MF: The red ball symbolizes the red stickers placed next to artwork in a gallery setting to show that the work has been sold. I first added it as a playful way of commenting on my foray into the art world without any experience. I was trying to figure out how to make a living and a career out of art. I didn’t want to base my entire career on getting this red ball, this constant seeking of validation. I knew that if I wasn’t careful to make a distinction between myself and my career, it could have a detrimental impact on how I value myself. I knew I had to keep swimming and ignore the red ball.

MF: Find things outside of art that make you happy, whole, and healthy. That will only enhance your art and your