in the studio: april kamunde in conversation with rosie olang’ odhiambo and sharon neema

After 17 years of working on portrait commissions, April Kamunde transitioned to full-time practice in 2020. Her work has been shown in the group exhibitions Walking the Edge (Afriart Gallery, 2022), Shapes of Water (Afriart Gallery, 2023), and Eastern Voices; Contemporary Art from East Africa (Addis Fine Art,London, 2023). She participated in 1-54 Contemporary African Art Fair London (2023), Art X Lagos(2023), INVESTEC Capetown Art Fair (2023, 2024), and African Galleries Now × Artsy (2022, 2023,2025).

Ahead of her first solo exhibition in Nairobi, Fabric of Our Being at the Africa Arts Trust, April, Neema and Rosie had lunch and a conversation in April’s homestudio. This published conversation is abridged for clarity.

April: The first person I painted in a dera was Abba (one of my close friends – she was my first sitter in this series). At that time, I hadn’t yet locked in to using the dera as a thing, as the thing. When I was trying to figure out what my first original body of work would be, I zeroed in on rest. It was later that I realised, actually, the dera will be the symbol that I’m using to explore rest. My next sitter was Cassandra (also one of my close friends). I did three solo ones of her, Tafakari Ya Mama Max (I, II, and III). Max is her first born son. Then I did three paintings of just the two of them, Sometimes This is How We Therapy (I,II, and III).

I wanted to do one of them for this show, with me somewhere in the mix too. But as time goes…

One day in the middle of the night, they woke up to a voice note, “Guys. I’m so sorry. I really wanted to do a painting of you all for this show, but I can’t.” And they were just like, “Okay, we were really just minding our business”. I was feeling so bad because they’ve not seen any of the paintings of themselves. I painted them in Kampala, and so they’ve shown in Kampala, and art fairs abroad, but they’ve not seen those works. 

Rosie: That first painting of Abba, it was Morning Routine?

April: Actually Evening Routines, yes, that one. 

But I’ll still do it, I’ll make the painting of the three of us. I guess we’ll just have to see it in my house.

Rosie: Iteration, iteration . .

April: Iteration, yeah.

Rosie: Shall we dish and then we come, sit, talk.

[distant kitchen talk – talk about pizza and preferred cup sizes and sahani za wageni]

April:  Karibuni

Rosie: Asante. So, Sharon and I put together a few questions. But I also feel like other things will come up as we are looking through the work as well. For now, we have some starting points, and then we’ll see where it meanders. What are some of your earliest memories of making art?

April: The one that my mom and I always go back to, I was in Loreto Convent Msongari, in Standard Two. We had just moved to Nairobi, from Embu where I used to be in a city council school. At Msongari, I was overwhelmed by the scale of the school. There were so many new things: a swimming pool, for example.. Eh, and there was some English, Oh my god!

Rosie: They were really talking it, huh?

April: They were really talking it! I was just overwhelmed. Eh! Kizungu! Eh! 

Anyway, we’d occasionally had companies that would come to the school — basically, corporate marketing to children. During one of these times, there was an art competition by a paint company called Robbialac. I think [the theme] was my environment, or something like, keeping your environment clean. I chose to paint. We had a lot of crows in Msongari — the black and white crows — and hawks. So I decided that’s what I’d do; I don’t know why I wanted to draw or paint crows. We started the exercise in class, but then I took the work home to finish. My mom saw me do the work and she was like, “Oh my gosh, this is really good!” And I was like, “Really?” I remember it was at the dining table. She was like, “Yeah, this is very good.” The organisers later said that the winners would be announced on Club Kiboko [a popular children programming hour that would air on Saturday mornings]. So, yeah, a couple of Saturdays later, I see my work on screen, and I was like, “Wait, Mommy!”.

Rosie: A child star!

April: With her crows! So my mom remembers that all the time. Did I win anything? Not even, not even a crayon. I’m just like, it was PR. Yeah, so, that is my earliest memory. That’s my most significant memory of early art things. 

But also my brother, Simeon, was the artist, the artistic star in our family. Let me tell you, he would sit, watch TV and draw out the Flintstones and Jetsons. I used to feel so kiwaru because he’s just sitting and drawing and it looked like them!

My things were much later, in high school. After I finished Standard Eight, I went to the GCSE system. At Msongari, the art and craft was primarily theory. At Millenium Academy, we’re doing practicals, we’re painting with watercolors, painting the flag, we’re drawing a teapot, we’re doing crosshatching. I was introduced to oil pastels, and that was the beginning of my love affair with oils.

My brother on the other hand—  when he was in high school, he was number one in the country in art and design. Life is funny like that. He was able to study art and design. Because I was also very good at Sciences, I was told, “Ai, now… Sasa art?” And it wasn’t a very hard argument for my dad to make, because I also loved chemistry. The path for me was to work in the cosmetics industry. My mom is a hairdresser, was a hairdresser by profession.

Rosie: So the chemistry made sense.

April: Exactly. I was raised in her salons, I learned how to do my own hair by the time I was in Standard Three because she would travel a bit. She eventually transitioned from running the salon and was consulting for Venus Haircare at the time. So, there were chunks of time where she traveled and run these seminars with stylists. Because I loved Organic Chemistry so much, there are times she would take me with her during long holidays. I’d follow along and read the ingredients of products at the back. And I’m like, “Oh my God, I know what this thing could be. I know what organic chemical families…” So maybe this is the thing I want to do with my life — cosmetic chemistry. My dad’s argument was— because I started selling commissions and portraits when I was in high school,  I’d already unlocked something there with my art. “The goal is to have as many tools in your pocket to live.” I’m like, “Okay, sawa basi. I guess Biochem it is. So that’s what I did for my undergrad.

Rosie: I think this context is really common… [laughs] Biochemistry.

[conversation about different artists and their science studies]

April: Yeah, so the two crows are my earliest memory. But I sold my first work in Form 3, or Year 10, to  one of my aunts — still made on that table, that dining table, the one that I was drawing those crows. 

My early commissions were mostly portraiture and that’s how I developed my technical skill. Because it’s conventional portraiture, it has to look like the person. So that panelbeat my skill set. The commissions were just a means to an end, a way to get pocket money. Finances got thick during my last years of high school and uni. So the commissions are what would keep me afloat in school.

That got me even more aggressive in chasing commissions outside my family. So, when I did my first and only internship, I went up to the MD, I had printed a portfolio. I didn’t even know that’s what… I had no shame! I was in JKUAT, JKUAT taught me how to hustle. Let me tell you! I sold earrings. I made pillows. Don’t ask me why pillows, but I made pillows and sold pillows. Pillows! Yes, I bought the fluff, I did the stitching and I would sell them in school. I don’t know why… Why were people buying, I don’t know.

Rosie: I love that though, a soft place to rest your head.

Neema: The thread of rest.

April: True to this, not new to this! 

Now, oils. So I’m like, Okay, fine. I can’t afford to keep buying new packs of Pentel pastels. We were introduced to oil paints during my A-levels, but it was just those ones of “You need to come with oil paints and a bottle of turpentine.” Okay, we brought the oil paint, so now, si we’re supposed to be shown how to use the oil paints? But he’s just like, “Okay, now you see the way you have watercolors, and you have water as your medium? So turpentine is your water to your oils.”

Some things remain from that time. I paint like a watercolorist, I paint from light to dark, as opposed from dark to light.

Rosie: Is that how you paint now that you use oil paint, from dark to light?

April: No, because now my brain is like, what do you mean? I still paint [from light to dark], and I think that’s what makes my work different from other oil painters. There’s a . . . I don’t know, there’s a different… luminosity. When you paint dark to light you finish with the light at the end, the highlights. I start with the light and build up the depth. I’ve tried [to paint differently], but I don’t even enjoy it. I feel like I have to wash my brush a lot. Or I’m not making good use of paint, because I’ll use black, and then I’ll paint over the black with a light color. I’m wasting paint. 

Yeah. Anyway, that’s question one.

Rosie: And, I guess continuing from that, how has your studio practice changed over the years, and what is that like now, your relationship to the studio? I mean, first of all, more space.

April: Ah! The separation of church and state now! [Before] if it wasn’t painting in my bedroom, it was painting in my living room, because it was a one bedroom, and that bedroom, it just had space for the bed [laughs].

And how has that relationship changed? I think it was a lot of guesswork at the beginning, trial and error. Now, there’s more resources. I get excited when I discover, or find, or stumble across an artist who works with oils. I really go down to their first post on Instagram so I can kind of watch their transition. I go down a rabbit hole when I discover, you know, an artist or curator that excites me.

When I decided to do this, I felt like I needed to catch up. There’s a lot I need to make up for. I’m not saying that the years I was not doing this full time were a waste. [But] I feel like there’s a lot I need to catch up on, particularly on my technical skills. Like, okay, I don’t have to use with a Windsor and Newton primer? Because there’s a thing for me… Because of, I guess, the hardships, whether in high school or uni, of scraping and scrapping, [now] I’m not gonna skimp on my material.

Rosie: Also to say, you also have a very tidy studio.

April: Even Daudi [April’s gallerist] is like, “Si you just pour a few things here?” When I was doing the residency in Kampala, they were just like, “You’re so clean”. Because of my thing of I can’t waste material. I only started using a palette, I think in 2021. I used to paint straight from the tube because there’ll be paint remaining on the palette and I don’t want to waste. So I’ve only just started using my palette recently. I really respect my material because of how hard it was to get them. Even turpentine, I reuse it.

Rosie: Like when you’re washing your brushes?

April: Yeah,once i start seeing sediment, I’ll decant it, reuse, then top up again. I’m not gonna pour out that whole thing.

Rosie: Even canvas.

April: Even canvas. You’ll see some of the canvas, nimeshonesha kama kiraka, but I stitch in a way that— you can’t tell if you aren’t keen, you know if you know.

Neema:  That’s so interesting, I was thinking about what you said about, like, when you were younger, your brother was the one who was the artist, and so you had to work to be seen as an artist.

April: Yeah.

Neema: And then working to have the materials, and having to be very intentional in the gathering [of them]. And the ways that probably impacts your practice now. Because you’ve had to be so intentional, there’s still that intentionality even in how you’re painting.

April: Yes. Yeah, yeah, yeah. 

Rosie: What did you just think about?

April: No, my brain went back to Kampala, and the team there, and them being like, wow, this is the cleanest they’ve seen the studio while someone is still there. Like, Fahad — Fahad is the cleaner — He was just like, I don’t even have work! 

So even with primer, I use a palette knife.

Rosie: Wait, how do you prime with a palette knife?

April: It’s not a big palette knife, It’s very tedious. A roller is more practical— But, listen, sometimes you just want mindless work, and for it to last for a chunk of time. So now you’re refreshed to start a new work.

Rosie: Is that how it feels to prime canvas?

April: Yes, When I’m working on many paintings, sometimes ninachoka, or the piece I’m working on is not fun or exciting anymore. So my brain needs to rest.I’ll take time to prime, and to stretch canvas. Because i’m not thinking when i’m stretching. It’s a physical—

Rosie: Mechanical…

April: Eh heh. It gives me about three days where I’m not thinking. I’m not doing the thinking that is involved in painting. It gives my brain breathing space. I really enjoy stretching, that exertion. It’s a nice break. So there are stages I like, and there are stages I really dislike in the journey of the painting. I love stretching, because it’s excitement. Oh, wait, so we start with the shoot. That’s fun because you feed off of the energy the muse is giving you, you build what the future painting is going to be based off with the specific sitter, because of her energy and her vibe and her circumstance. So then you’re excited about this new project. I then select a couple [of pictures], and then out of that selection — sometimes I tend to do three to four pieces from a shoot, but sometimes it can also just be one, when things are just not working, the ingredients aren’t working.Then stretching the canvas. It gives me time to not think. Then the grids. Because I work with grids [and a] reference image. I can’t paint from my head. That part is tedious, but the anticipation of starting the work is good, especially if I’m excited about a piece. It makes the grid process a little less painful or a little less tedious. But that the tediousness is because I want to start! I want to start now, but I can’t, right?

Rosie: Not yet, not yet.

April:  Not yet, slow down. Because it’s stretching, it’s priming. And then I do the undercoat of burnt umber, and then I start sketching, doing the grids in pencil. And then now we start the work.

Layer one is fun because the picture is coming out. Layer two and layer three— kwanza the one before the final— ugh! Inabo. Because you can see what it can be, but it’s not yet there. But then, when it starts coming out? Then I can even paint deep into the night. But that middle stage, inabo. 

April:  Yeah. Have I answered the question? What was the question?

Rosie: Yeah, you answered like four questions. It’s fantastic.

Neema: I had a question. With the dera and the ways that you’re thinking about it as a garment of rest, but also a garment of work, I was curious about if that applies to your painting practice, if it’s a place of rest or a place of work? And you’ve kind of just explained the ways that it is restful, but also the strenuous labor of it, and how it goes between—

April: The two. Yeah. When I’m towards the end of a painting, when it’s coming out… sometimes it surprises me. It gives me more than what I envisioned it to be. And sometimes you don’t see it as you’re working, but when you step away and “Wait! Look at that shadow! Look at that curve, or that play of color.” That’s always nice. But sometimes there are a couple of paintings that didn’t do that for me. And it just, it just refused. That’s kind of sad, but it’s fine. But when it does the thing? And there’s a certain layer… And when it comes out, I’m so happy. I’m so happy and it’s usually when I’m putting green. I use green for shadows. It looks so nice! That’s why I say, the paint, the work, the materials, it talks. Like, it— heh! It doesn’t matter how many layers in. 

Rosie: I love it. I really enjoyed how you talk about this building of layers and— something mentioned, but we didn’t really get into yet — intensity of color. What is your relationship to color, relationship to fidelity of color also. How do you play with color?

April: The photograph is usually just a guide. Sometimes I follow the photograph, but I tend to accentuate colors. I like assaults of color. I like red. I love red. I’m very drawn to reds, even in skin tones. Burnt Sienna is my favorite thing.

Rosie: Yeah, that has a really nice undertone of red.

April: Yeah! A very strong one. When I’m doing skin, I do a bit of white where there’s a highlight, Yellow Ochre, Burnt Sienna, Burnt Umber and— I don’t use black anymore— I use Phthalo Blue to darken. Burnt Sienna is really like my middle.

Rosie: Mmm, there’s a stack below, there’s a stack above.

April: Kale, exactly. My mom’s favorite thing was to watch me paint, because I’d paint in the living room. She would sit like this, and critique from start to finish. “Eh, eh, eh! Hio, punguza. Punguza hizo reds. Punguza hizo ma-reds.” And I was laughing, because now that I have my own studio space here, there’s a time when, i’d look at my palette and it had seven shades of browns and reds. The thing my mom used to really dislike was how much red tones I’d use. I took a picture of the palette and how red it is and sent it to her, like “Ebu cheki hii stuff”. And she said, “Ni sawa tu, ni sawa tu”.

 I like exaggerating color, exaggerating and falsifying. I don’t use like brown for shadows. I use green. I’ll use yellow on skin. I enjoy it, it’s part of the thing. even my house, it’s red and green.

Rosie: You have a palette.

April: Yeah. And this is my palette. There’s also a lot of violet in some works, because I wanted to break away a bit, I didn’t want to put a red dera, because it would communicate differently. I tried to understand color theory. I don’t know, but it’s fine.

Rosie: I guess color theory, how I understand it, is that it is more about the relationships between the colors, how they appear next to each other

Neema: And even within color theory, reds and greens are opposite—

April: Right?

Neema: So, instinctually….

April: Yes, yes, that’s what I tell myself. I like color. I like saturated color.

Neema: Are you able to name why?

April: I don’t know. When I look at my earlier works, the early commissions, I can only think of one that wasn’t saturated, a portrait of Dedan Kimathi when he was arrested. Even though I’m supposed to paint the photo the as it is— I’d still try and push, you know, small small.

Neema: It might also be because of starting out with oil pastel?

April: Yeah, because of the color! I think so too. Because it’s—

Rosie: Concentrated? Or?

Neema: Saturated. the reds are red. And, I think, even when you use them, because it’s so thick, you’re seeing the light interacting with it. It’s three dimensional, instead of—

April: Flat, yes. Watercolors, I find, are very flat.

I liked Colombia because it was also very colorful. We’re very same-same. Yani, the food is like our food. Okay, it’s not exactly our food, but their warus and our warus, you know. Empanadas is a samosa type thing. even their beaded jewelry. Where are Maasai these beads from? Anyway, there was an awakening for me in Colombia. The city i visited was so pretty, so hilly. I was just on a high. There were times, you know, you forget to eat, but you want to eat, but there’s no time. You want to see. Really see. Yeah, I enjoyed that. Colombia was good. It was good for my spirit. It’s the only country I’ve ever considered living in. I’ve never wanted to live anywhere else outside of home.

Rosie: And what of Kampala? Did it feel livable?

April: It was primarily for work. When I’m there, — my life revolves around Afri’art. If I’m going out, it’s to Nakasero and 32. If you asked me, “Tell me what I need to do in Kampala”. I’m just like, heh. When I go there, I’m at Afri’art. I go to Julie — Julie is the gallery cook. I go to Julie’s salon, I hang with her kids. Come back. I go for a 32 meeting. I go back. 

Rosie: And was Afriart your first residency?

April: It was my first ever residency. But I don’t know. I feel that for any residency, I need to have something I’m working on. Something needs to happen for me to look for a change in that way. But still, if I got an opportunity—Cartagena, I’d go even if it’s just for vibes. 

April: Anyone for tea? Lemon tea, hibiscus tea, clove tea — which I call romanz tea. No, you have to have romanz tea.

Rosie: Tell me about romance tea? Why is it called romance tea?

April: No, that’s all me. That’s nothing to do with— romanz, with a “z”, is the word I use when something is… [slurps]

Rosie: Oh, nice. I like that.

April: It could be romance…

Rosie: But it is romanz.

April: But it’s romanz! Anyway, you’ll taste it. I hope it will be romanz to you too.

Rosie: We’ll have some romanz tea.

The question I’m about to ask, we talked about it briefly when we were in the studio, and looking at the studio wall. This question about influences. But also, who would you like your work to be in conversation with, as you’re making work. 

April: I’ll be honest, that’s not a question I’ve ever thought about or considered. But in terms of influences, I think the artists who I tend to be drawn to tend to be primarily women artists. I can’t draw a straight parallel or straight line to the work, but I— I feel, because this body of work started from a very personal— I started from looking inside first.

Rosie: Say more about that.

April: When I resigned, I moved from South B to here. The first year was 100% commission. And that was great.I was very affirmed. But then, I think one of the reasons why an artistic practice, a full-time artistic practice, wasn’t my first career choice is because in real life, I think money and being able to pay for things was very important to me. I hated scrapping. I don’t like it. I hate worrying about money. I want to be able to pay my bills without worry, without being stressed. A career in art didn’t really— it was not giving that. So, year one post-resignation was great, because by February, I was booked up until September. I needed to have three commissions at the same time to be able to live off of it. Year two, wueh! The commissions dried out. If I don’t have a new thing coming in three months, I’m thinking, “Heh, by the next quarter, it will be hectic.” But at the same time, I also got tired of commissions, because you’re replicating this thing. I was good at commissions, but I didn’t see a career outside of commissions. It’s not that I didn’t think further or that I thought it was hard. I just didn’t see it. So, because now I’m tired — all things considered year one was great, but I’m tired of these commissions. My brain is not doing anything. I’m just photocopying with my hand. It was then that i had to think, Okay, so if I want to do my own work, because going back to employment is not an option, what will my work look like? What does an original April Kamunde work look like? I had no idea. I had no idea whatsoever. I know figurative work is my thing. And I want to stick with this.But that also posed a question for me, because I really didn’t see any figurative work in the galleries. In the spaces I saw, I didn’t see figurative work, I saw abstract, surrealist work. And I’m just like, “So now?” A piece of critique I got for a portrait of my grandma that I submitted for One Off’s open calls— it was accepted but it was like “Not a portrait of your grandmother”. But I wasn’t giving it as a portrait of my grandmother. It was her mood and the expression on her face: that’s everybody’s grandmother, right? There’s a thing that it does. And her vivid red scarf, there’s a thing. So I decided, what I will do is, piggybacking on my commissions, my portraits of people— I had grand plans. The body of work was going to be “Portraits of Us: Can You Draw Me?”. Because that’s what — every time I say I’m an artist, someone will always say “Can you draw me?”

Rosie: Oh, that’s so funny.

April: That was the body of work. Us just being us in our normal state, not posing or anything. Because the commissions I’d get would tend to be posed. So that was Abba’s first piece, Evening Routine, where she’s just doing her hair and she’s in a dera. That was the first original in this line of thought of “Portraits of Us”. The next one was Abba at the windowsill. We had gone to— we had escaped to Lamu during one of the lockdowns, and then it was lifted and then lockdown again? The piece was titled … after the first wave. Then I did one of my friend’s brother. He’s a musician; he was an upcoming musician. He was just… a cool kid, squatting, graffiti behind and, you know. What was the question?

Neema: You were talking about how your work started from a personal place.

April: Ah!…then I’ve gone so back. Okay, so—

Rosie: We’re taking the long route, the scenic route.

April: The scenic route. So, those are three pieces of Portraits of Us that I was doing. No one was buying, and I was like, I don’t even know. I don’t know what to do now. I started doing these mentorship sessions with folks who were more established in the art scene. I was taught that I needed to have a ‘mandazi business’. You have your commissions, and you have your original work, but you need things that pay the bills. That made sense. So I made some cards and did some prints of the Portraits of Us work. Then I opened up a shop at Lava Latte, the shop side when they’d just opened. So I’m trying that out, but it’s not giving, and that’s when I started breaking there. I’m trying. I’m doing. I’ve done the merch. I’m talking to someone who knows the sector but nothing has happened. What am I going to do? I can’t go back. 

Then I went to Wambui Kamiru’s Akili ni Nywele installation at One Off. Let me tell you that show… I could not believe it. So, one of these side hustle things is— a former colleague reached out to me. He wanted me to give his daughter art classes. She was doing her A-levels. Instead of only doing classes, what I proposed was also going on excursions, going for exhibitions. One of the trips, my field trips, was Wambui’s show. I never really used to understand installation work, but I’d never actually attended one, to be honest. So, this is the first installation show I was seeing. I’m interested to see what this could be. 

 Before we even get to the room, there is this snake of a long braid. My heart was in my chest. Because I was just like, wait, what? It was exactly the thing that we were trying to do. And it was like snaking through the grounds, down the stairs, up. Then we enter. In the room, there are two hair dryers, but she’s sprayed them all silver. And then there’s the table with it— It took me straight back to my mom’s salon. I was just like, Oh, my God, what? And seeing the rollers, I remembered how I used to play with the rollers. In Embu, in the salon, there was a back room where my mom would teach her stylists, or just do random classes, I don’t know. Anyway. So I’m seeing those rollers, and I’m seeing all those tools, and it’s taking me back to my mom’s salon. That entire show, I felt like Wambui entered my brain, went to the room, the door, that says Core Memories. That’s the one she opened. She looked for files, she took— there were joys, there were traumas— she took them and she made a show. That’s how I felt. The tools, that mirror with the bulbs, there’s the dryers. Then there’s a table, it reminded me that those are like surgical tools. That’s why she sprayed them silver, right? Then, at the end of the room, there was that ka-small dresser, the pink dresser, with [the] Beautiful Beginnings [box]. And the number of times my mum— because my mum never used to do my hair at the salon, she’d do it at home, seated in between her legs, ananipaka relaxer. And I remember she didn’t have bandwidth to explain to me what she was doing to my hair. To me, at the end of it, she was just applying things, some parts nilikua nawashwa, then at the end of it all, my hair was straight. Even just looking at that setup, I could smell the conditioner. 

If any of my work could do what this show did for me.That show did a lot for me.

Rosie: Roller coaster, small and big.

April: Small and big, rough and smooth.

What I took from Wambui’s show was, you can explore this one theme, but you look at it from so many angles. And the thing with installation is that it’s so visceral, because you’re using actual, existing things. But how can I apply that to my painting practice? Do my paintings do this? 

I felt that show was so personal, I felt like it was for me. So how they look for a personal thing that I feel strongly about, and that I can look at or approach from different angles.  The thing I wanted to explore is why I’m so tired. And it’s not just physical rest. It’s— I don’t want to talk to people. I don’t want to be in your thing. Like I don’t… I’m happy that I’m broke. You ask me, I won’t have to sitasita, siwezimake. Haiwezekani, my friend, haiwezekani.

I wanted to think of something that— and I can create many pieces out of it, because I need to dig it up, That’s what I took from Wambui’s show, right? I kept thinking, I’m so tired, and I’ve been tired for so long. Why? I can’t really articulate it. And then it’s not only me, even my friends are tired. Is it an age thing? Where we are right now? Is it the pandemic, or are these residues of pandemic exhaustion? So, 

exploring why we are tired, that can be the different angles through which people can engage with the work, different touch points, or the different angles I’m looking at. Actually, I have a thing here. I can do something. 

I was now toying around with the idea of rest and how to explore it. And when I was thinking about reference images, what I would want to depict in this way, I remembered another picture, the one of Abba, because I was going through my camera roll, but then I was like, no, let me do fresh ones, because we still be tired, but a different type of tired, right?  I decided let me stick with the dera as a thing. And then, let me read more about the dera also and try and see if I can get any more information about it. Because if I’m asked why, other than we wear it as loungewear, what else? What else can give me an angle that I can approach? 

Now I’ve not necessarily moved away from rest. I’m looking at other angles of exploring womanhood and existence, black womanhood and existence, with the dera as a motif. Because it’s still so personal. I guess that’s why I’ve never thought of [it being] in conversation with someone else’s work. Because it’s not for other people, it’s still very internal. But that’s a good question. I’ve seen, within the last two years, there’s been more artists, not necessarily visual artists but creatives working, on this thematic subject of rest. There’s an artist who was at 32, Birungi Kawooya. She’s also exploring rest.

Rosie: There’s one artist I was also thinking about. A project called Black Power Naps [by artists Navild Acosta and Sosa]. It was an installation where they explore the question “how can we dream when we don’t sleep”— there’s a sleep gap for black people. Imagine that. Imagine a sleep gap, like just as a thing. And you can quantify this as a thing that exists. I think that exploration of rest felt… the in-situ-ness of it felt sweet for me, a middle-finger to respectability. Yeah, that was definitely something that came to mind for me as well. Like, we’re not performing here. 

And I feel that in the paintings as well. This—

April: Take me as I am. Or leave me alone.

Rosie: Yeah.

Neema: I think also, there is art that your work feels in conversation with, even though it’s not thematically. This artist called Salman T—

April: Toor! Yes, yes, I like his work so much.

Neema: I think there’s a similar… It’s a moment [that is captured in the painting], but it’s a moment where time feels a lot like it stretches past this [one moment]. In your paintings, it’s that afternoon time where, it could be 1 pm, it could be 2 pm, It’s still identifiable as a time, but it stretches past that. With Toor’s work, there’s one in the back of a taxi cab, and it’s three friends, and it’s just— yeah, the taxi cab back home after being out, it feels like it’s the longest cab ride. I’m thinking about that idea of your work being in conversation with other work, in these other ways.

April: Yeah, not necessarily thematically, but—

Neema: In what it does.

April: Oh, wow, I love Salman Toor. I saw his work for the first time, in Venice. He had like 17— okay, maybe like eight paintings. I looked at every one of them, so— you know, those ones where you’re like—

Rosie: Unasoma!

April: Wah! It was so good, so yum. 

Rosie Olang’ Odhiambo is a Nairobi based curator and bookmaker. Sharon Neema (they/she) is based in Nairobi and makes work that sits within a continued curiosity about process, embodiment and language.
[09:57, 4/28/2026] April Abba: This interview was first published as part of the accompanying catalogue of “Fabric of Our Being”, April Kamunde’s inaugural solo exhibition produced by and held at The Aftrican Arts Trust, Nairobi, 2025.

The publication was produced by Corpus, an archiving and research project about visual art in East Africa by Don Handa and Nyambura Mutanyi. Physical catalogue layout by Jonathan Gathaara Solanke Fraser.