95. AZIAH LUSALA: A SPACE BETWEEN FAITH AND REALITY.

Aziah Lusala, Black Jesus, 2023, Oil on Canvas, 100cm x 100cm. London. Private Collection.

‘Ultimately, my work reminds me — and anyone who views it — that no matter how difficult or limiting life may seem, there’s always the potential to transform, to grow, and to create something that transcends the struggle. It’s a testament to perseverance, faith, and the power of self-belief.’ A.L.

I remember meeting you through your work - the first time was in a crit I think, where you presented a series of material tests using black acrylic plastics - I remember sensing that there was a depth to what you were doing and yet at first the impression was of a reflected surface... the contradiction was fascinating.

Entering university, I understood that what I was saying and creating wouldn’t immediately resonate with everyone. 

I knew my perspectives might feel unfamiliar or even unapproachable, but I wanted to find a way to introduce myself and my practice in a way that could connect with others while staying true to its essence.

I still vividly remember something you said to me during that crit — it has stayed with me ever since. You told me, “You need to become the expert in your own practice.” At first, I didn’t know how to process that. 

My initial reaction was, “If I’m the expert, why did I even come here?” But over time, I came to understand it differently. Being the expert didn’t mean I had all the answers — it meant I had a responsibility to bring others into the world of my practice. 

I needed to become the teacher, guiding people to engage with the depth and complexity of my work and how it intertwines with my life.

The Black Jesus painting halts the viewer - the sorrow in the eyes is extraordinary - it is incredibly deep in terms of emotion and yet has been created with a method that feels as if the paint has been pushed and pulled down the surface - when it was shown in The Saatchi gallery earlier this year I kept returning to it - like a magnet...

The story behind Black Jesus is deeply personal and rooted in my upbringing. My father is a pastor, so faith was always a central part of my life. I spent much of my childhood in the church, but I also grew up in the streets, where community and loyalty to one another were everything. 

We gave our all to our community—it was almost like an act of worship. But the activities we indulged in, the things we did to survive or feel connected, wouldn’t be seen as acceptable to others.

Black Jesus captures that tension. His sorrowful eyes reflect the weight of those contradictions—the struggle between sin and redemption, between faith and reality. 

The method of painting — the way the paint feels like it’s been dragged, pushed, and pulled — is intentional. It mirrors the push and pull of those experiences, the turbulence and the beauty that coexist in that environment.

You are about to leave art school, how do you feel now and what have been your signals within that period of time that you will take forward?

As I prepare to leave the Royal College of Art, I feel pride, gratitude, and a sense of unfinished work. My time here has been transformative, pushing me to grow in ways I never imagined. While I’ve accomplished so much, my life remains complex, and getting to this point hasn’t been easy. Right now, my focus is on crossing this milestone while preparing for the next steps.

One of my next steps is traveling to Congo to reconnect with my roots. 

My grandfather was a king in Basankusu, Congo, and as one of the last males in our lineage with a claim to that throne, I feel a deep responsibility to explore my heritage. This journey is about grounding myself in my identity and carrying that connection into my work and future.

When I return, I plan to complete my master’s and build on the foundation I’ve established at the RCA. The most important lessons I’ll take with me are self-belief and attention to detail — trusting my instincts and making intentional decisions about materials and research to add depth and meaning to my work.

Leaving the RCA isn’t an end but the start of something greater. I’m proud of what I’ve achieved — not just for myself, but for my daughter, my community, and as an example of what’s possible. I’m ready to carry these lessons and my legacy forward into the next chapter.

Time is an important element to your practice as an artist…

Time is central to both my life and my practice. The eight years I spent away from civilisation profoundly shaped my understanding of time — not as a limitation, but as a foundation for growth. 

During that period, I rediscovered my passion for art, and this duality of constraint and transformation continues to inform my work.

In 2014, while incarcerated, I created ‘They Got the Key but I’m Still Free.’

At 19, I didn’t fully grasp its significance, but over time, its meaning has deepened.

It now feels like a prophecy, connecting my past struggles to my present growth and future possibilities.

Time gives my work context, allowing it to reflect a broader journey. 

It acts as a thread linking past, present, and future, showing how every moment adds to a larger narrative of identity and transformation.

If you look at the work as a whole, what do you feel it tells you?

Each of my works is a chapter, and together they form a book — a story of my journey from incarceration to creation against all odds. 

Each piece holds a fragment of my experiences, from moments of confinement and struggle to breakthroughs of clarity and freedom. If I look at my body of work as a whole, it tells a story of resilience, redemption, and self-discovery.

It’s a dialogue between the past and present: my early works carry the raw emotions of someone trying to make sense of their reality, while my recent pieces reflect a deeper understanding of myself and my place in the world.

Together, these works show how time and reflection can sculpt pain into meaning and a personal story into something inspirational. 

But more than that, my work is a key — a way to inspire people who grew up in situations like mine. It’s about showing the path I’m trying to navigate to leave that life behind and how far I’ve come in doing so.

Ultimately, my work reminds me — and anyone who views it — that no matter how difficult or limiting life may seem, there’s always the potential to transform, to grow, and to create something that transcends the struggle. It’s a testament to perseverance, faith, and the power of self-belief.

‘Black Jesus’ was presented in the exhibition ‘From The One To The Many’ in September 2024, at Saatchi Gallery, London.

CAN I BE HONEST by Aziah Lusala.