Roli O’tsemaye is a dynamic writer, curator, and communications strategist with a keen focus on contemporary art and culture across Africa and its diaspora. Her work bridges the worlds of fiction, non-fiction, and art criticism, offering nuanced perspectives on the evolving creative landscape.
Roli’s journey as an art writer began in 2015 with The Sole Adventurer (now TSA Art Magazine), a leading digital platform spotlighting contemporary African art. Since then, her insightful commentary has appeared in numerous international publications, including Art Dependence (Belgium), Artyrama (Nigeria), Visi Magazine (South Africa), Sugarcane Magazine (USA), La Belle Revue (Paris), Something We Africans Got (Côte d’Ivoire/Paris), and World of Interiors (UK).
Currently, Roli is the Program Director at Angels & Muse, a forward-thinking non-profit art space and thought laboratory based in Lagos and Benin City, Nigeria. There, she curates a rich array of programs—ranging from artist residencies and exhibitions to book readings, intensive workshops, and cross-disciplinary projects—designed to nurture talent and stimulate discourse within Africa’s vibrant art and cultural scene. Excerpts:
What first drew you into the world of contemporary African art and culture?
I started out as a fiction writer, but a commission from Bukola Oyebode Westerhuis, founding editor of The Sole Adventurer (TSA Art Magazine), opened a new path. She invited me to interview Dutch artist Ingrid Baars—renowned for her work on the Black female body and Nigerian documentary photographer Adolphus Opara. Conducting the interviews and immersing myself in their creative processes led me into a rabbit hole, where I began to see art not just as aesthetics, but as a language of deeper meaning with socio-cultural connotations. Since then, contemporary African art and culture has continued to be one of the conscious gazes with which I experience and engage with the world.
Can you share how your academic background in Sociology and Communication has influenced your writing and curatorial work?
My academic background in Sociology and Communication has shaped both my writing and curatorial practice profoundly. Sociology has trained me to critically examine social structures, power dynamics, cultural and anthropological contexts, which allows me to approach subjects with a nuanced and empathetic lens. It has given me the tools to engage with themes such as identity, gender, inequality, memory, ethnicity and community—ideas that consistently surface in my storytelling and curatorial projects.
Meanwhile, Communication Studies has sharpened my understanding of audience, narrative strategy, and the power of visual and verbal language. It taught me how to craft messages that resonate across different media and publics. Together, these disciplines have helped me position my work at the intersection of research, advocacy, and aesthetics—whether I’m curating an exhibition that challenges dominant histories or writing an essay that amplifies underrepresented voices.
How did your experience with The Sole Adventurer shape your career and critical voice in Nigerian art discourse?
My experience with The Sole Adventurer (TSA Art Magazine) was foundational in shaping my career and critical voice within the Nigerian art discourse. It was my entry point into writing seriously about contemporary African art, and it provided a unique space to engage with artists, exhibitions, and institutions with both curiosity and critique. TSA Art Magazine encouraged deep thinking, rigorous research, and a commitment to clarity; skills that continue to define my work today.
Working with The Sole Adventurer also sharpened my awareness of the gaps in how Nigerian and African art histories are documented and discussed. It pushed me to be intentional about centering artists whose practices reflect complex social realities, and to interrogate the infrastructures around art production, presentation, and reception. That early exposure to art journalism and critical writing helped me develop a voice that is both analytical and accessible.
How do you approach the process of writing about contemporary Nigerian artists, especially in ways that are accessible but critically engaged?
When writing about contemporary artists (not just Nigerian artists), I begin by listening, closely observing their work, their process, and the contexts that shape their practice. I see writing not just as documentation or critique, but as a form of translation, that is, making complex ideas and artistic expressions legible without diluting their depth. I strive to enter the artist’s world on their terms, while also situating their work within broader social, historical, and political frameworks.
Accessibility, for me, doesn’t mean simplifying the work, but rather being intentional about language, avoiding jargon when possible, and allowing the writing to carry both clarity and texture. I often draw from storytelling, metaphor, and grounded examples to open up critical ideas to wider audiences, including those outside academic or art world circles. Ultimately, my goal is to reflect the richness of the artist’s work while creating space for dialogue, reflection, and engagement.
Do you see a shift in the themes or narratives explored by Nigerian artists in the past decade?
What might be driving this evolution?Yes, there has been a noticeable shift in the themes explored by Nigerian artists over the past decade, with a growing emphasis on personal identity, gender, migration, and socio-political critique.
One significant trend is the rise of figurative art—used not just for representation but as a powerful tool for storytelling, memory, and resistance.
Artists are increasingly drawing from lived experience and local realities, while engaging global conversations around race, belonging, and visibility. This evolution is driven by factors such as digital exposure, a more globally connected art ecosystem, and a renewed urgency to challenge dominant narratives through intimate and embodied forms.
What gaps do you think exist in art criticism in Nigeria today, and how can they be addressed?
A major gap in art criticism in Nigeria today is the limited depth and consistency of critical engagement. Some of the discourse remain surface-level, event-driven, or overly celebratory, often lacking rigorous analysis of artistic intention, form, and context.
There is also a shortage of sustained platforms and institutional support for writers, researchers, and critics to develop long-term, in-depth work.
Addressing this requires investment in publishing infrastructure, mentorship and academic-artistic collaborations, building archives, and encouraging cross disciplinary critique, and supporting independent writing platforms can help nurture a more robust and reflective critical culture. Galleries and institutional spaces should consider ad placements on publishing platforms, as part of their communication and visibility options, instead of only committing primarily to PR companies.
How do international platforms differ in their portrayal of Nigerian contemporary art compared to local publications?
International platforms often frame Nigerian contemporary art through a global lens highlighting its novelty, political urgency, or market value (sometimes at the expense of deeper cultural specificity). There is also a tendency to prioritize narratives that fit into broader Western discourses around identity, resilience, or postcolonial critique. In spite of this, some international publications do things differently, by commissioning writers, indigenous to the place of interest, to write about the art in the locality. Local publications on the other hand, when they are well-resourced and critically inclined, are more likely to engage with the nuances of context: language, community, historical continuity, and lived realities. However, local platforms often struggle with funding and reach, which limits their influence.
As Program Director at Angels and Muse, how do you ensure that your programming remains relevant to the needs of Nigerian artists and audiences?
As Program Director at Angels and Muse, I prioritize listening, collaboration, and context. We engage directly with artists, writers, and cultural practitioners to understand their evolving needs, challenges, and ambitions. Our programming is shaped by these conversations, and we remain responsive to the socio-cultural climate, curating initiatives that address pressing issues while fostering experimentation and critical dialogue. We also create space for intergenerational exchange, peer learning, and community engagement, ensuring that our work is not only artist-focused but audience-conscious.
Relevance, for us, comes from staying rooted in our local realities while remaining open to global conversations.
What does “alternative art space” mean in the Nigerian context, and how does it differ from traditional galleries or institutions?
“Alternative art space” refers to a flexible, often independently-run platform that supports artistic practices outside the commercial or institutional mainstream. Unlike traditional galleries, which may prioritize sales and established names, or state-run institutions that can be bureaucratic and underfunded, alternative spaces like Angels and Muse offer room for experimentation, critical dialogue, and interdisciplinary work. Our space often serves as incubators for emerging voices, support process-driven projects, and engage with community-based or socially conscious themes. This informality allows us to be more agile and responsive, making us vital to the art ecosystem.
Can you discuss a recent exhibition, residency, or workshop you curated and what impact it had on the participating artists or the public?
Last year, I served as co-curator of the photography section in The Fabric of Courage, a multidisciplinary exhibition organized and produced by Somi Kakoma. The project was a powerful reimagining and critical reflection on FESTAC ’77, the historic Second World Black and African Festival of Arts and Culture held in Lagos.
Our focus was to revisit this cultural milestone through the lens of memory, photography, and the often-overlooked contributions of women and other actors who participated in the festival.
The photography exhibition featured rare and evocative works by African-American photographer Marilyn Nance—one of the few who documented FESTAC extensively—as well as archival images from the Centre for Black and African Arts and Civilization (CBAAC) and selections from the late Tam Fiofori’s expansive body of work. Together, these visual narratives created a textured and layered portrait of a moment when the global Black world converged in artistic solidarity.
The exhibition drew wide attention, attracting both general audiences and cultural historians.
For many, it was the first time encountering FESTAC not as a distant event, but as a living archive. The impact was profound: younger artists and viewers found inspiration in this recovered history, while older generations were moved by the recognition of a moment they had lived through. It was especially meaningful to see women’s roles at FESTAC brought to the forefront, challenging the traditional, male-dominated retelling of the event. The exhibition helped reignite conversations around cultural sovereignty, pan-African imagination, and the enduring legacy of FESTAC in shaping artistic identities across the Black world.
In your view, how is Nigerian contemporary art responding to the country’s current political, economic, and social realities?
Art always imitates life, so art, whether Nigerian or not, will always respond and reflect its environmental realities. Artists are increasingly using their practices to interrogate systems of power, question inequality, and document the everyday struggles and resilience of Nigerian life.
For instance, Mike Asukwo, one of my favorite cartoonists and illustrator is a prime example of an artist that addresses socio-political issues with urgency and humour. An ongoing exhibition at Angels and Muse by Seidougha Eyimiegha, titled “Gods of Safety” which addresses the lines between safety signs and deities is another example of how art is used to respond to our socio-political realities.
How can cultural institutions and art practitioners work together to make art more accessible across different socioeconomic classes in Nigeria?
Cultural institutions and art practitioners can collaborate to make art more accessible by intentionally decentralizing both content and location. This means taking exhibitions, workshops, and performances beyond elite urban spaces and white cubes into schools, community spaces, and underserved neighborhoods. Qudus Onikeku did this significantly with the Q Dance Festival, which he took to Lagos Island streets for years.
At Angels and Muse, our programs are designed with inclusivity in mind—offering free entry and participatory formats that invite dialogue rather than just observation.
Practitioners can also engage in partnerships with local educators, grassroots organizations, and digital platforms to widen reach. Crucially, accessibility isn’t only about physical access—it’s also about relevance. When institutions support work that reflects the lived experiences of diverse Nigerian communities, they cultivate audiences who see themselves in the art and recognize its value.
What role does Lagos (and more recently, Benin City) play in shaping or decentralizing the Nigerian art scene?
Lagos has long served as the commercial and cultural nerve center of the Nigerian art scene, hosting major galleries, fairs, and institutions that drive visibility and market access for artists. It offers critical infrastructure, global exposure, and a vibrant ecosystem that fuels artistic production and discourse. However, the growing activity in Benin City signals a welcome shift toward decentralization. With its rich artistic heritage, particularly in bronze casting and historical memory, Benin City offers a different kind of cultural depth. Initiatives and spaces emerging there are creating room for more grounded, context-specific practices that resist the pressures of a market-driven pace. Together, Lagos and Benin City are beginning to represent a broader, more layered narrative of Nigerian art, one that values both mobility and rootedness, visibility and tradition.
You’ve contributed to publications across Africa, Europe, and the U.S.—how do you balance local authenticity with global visibility in your work?
Balancing local authenticity with global visibility in my work requires a careful navigation of context. I remain rooted in the realities of Nigerian life, using the richness of local histories, social dynamics, and cultural nuances as the foundation of my writing. This authenticity is crucial for creating work that resonates with local audiences and reflects the complexities of the Nigerian experience. At the same time, I recognize the global nature of contemporary art and culture, and I aim to ensure that my work speaks to universal themes that can connect with audiences across Africa, Europe, and the U.S. The challenge lies in ensuring that while I engage with global conversations, the essence of what I write remains grounded in the local context, ensuring that both perspectives enrich each other. By framing global dialogues through local lenses, I can bring Nigerian art and culture to the forefront in ways that are both authentic and relevant on the world stage.
Do you think there’s a distinct voice or thread that ties contemporary African art together, or is it defined more by diversity than unity?
Contemporary African art is more defined by its diversity than a singular, unified voice. Africa is vast, with a multiplicity of histories, languages, cultures, and socio-political realities, which means the art emerging from it is often highly varied. Artists draw from personal experiences, local traditions, and global influences, leading to a broad spectrum of styles, themes, techniques, and forms. However, despite this diversity, there is a common thread of engagement with issues like identity, colonialism, migration, and social justice, which resonates across much of the work.
Additionally, there’s a shared sense of reclaiming narrative and asserting visibility; whether through contemporary reinterpretations of traditional forms or critiques of post-colonial legacies. While African art is diverse, it also shares an undercurrent of reflection on the complexities of belonging, memory, and the future, creating a subtle yet powerful unity that binds these diverse practices together.
What emerging trends or voices in Nigerian contemporary art are you particularly excited about right now?
One notable trend is the incorporation of new media and technology into artistic practices. Artists are exploring digital platforms, virtual reality, and interactive installations to engage audiences in novel ways. This approach not only expands the possibilities of artistic expression but also makes art more accessible to a global audience.
How can young Nigerian writers and curators develop critical thinking and sustainable careers in the art sector?
Read, read, read. Young writers and curators can develop critical thinking and sustainable careers in the art sector by cultivating a strong foundation in research, theory, and contextual analysis. This means reading widely and engaging with both local and global art discourses.
Mentorship and peer exchange are also vital. It is why we regularly organize workshops at Angels and Muse. Learning from experienced practitioners, participating in workshops can sharpen their critical voice. Sustainability, however, requires a strategic blend of passion and pragmatism. Building networks, pursuing interdisciplinary collaborations.
By staying curious, young writers can carve meaningful paths in Nigeria’s evolving art ecosystem.
What are your hopes for the future of Nigeria’s cultural infrastructure, especially with regard to education, funding, and preservation?In education, we need comprehensive arts curricula at all levels, taught by trained professionals and grounded in both local knowledge systems and global practices. For funding, it would be great to have both public and private sectors recognize the value of culture, not just economically, but as a critical part of national development and provide consistent, transparent support for artists, institutions, and creative projects.
Preservation, too, must be prioritized. From safeguarding archives and artifacts to supporting contemporary documentation practices that ensure our stories are not lost. It would be amazing to see more state-of-the-art libraries instituted, have our national museums and state-run institutions equipped and functioning expertise that would rival its contemporaries around the world. Ultimately, my hope is for a cultural ecosystem that empowers creators economically, values memory, and makes art and heritage accessible to all Nigerians, regardless of geography or class.
