When I first came across Yinka Shonibare, I didn’t just see colourful fabrics or quirky installations. I saw an artist who forces you to ask questions you probably didn’t plan on asking. He doesn’t just create art for the walls of galleries. He creates moments that punch you in the gut and make you think about power, history, race, and privilege in ways that stick with you.
Most people know him for the Dutch wax fabrics. Bright, bold, instantly recognisable. But here’s the twist—those fabrics aren’t even “authentically African.” They were manufactured in Europe, inspired by Indonesian batik, and then sold into West Africa during colonial trade. That’s exactly why Shonibare uses them. He’s showing us how culture, trade, and identity have always been messy, layered, and never as pure as we like to believe.
Yinka Shonibare: Why His Art Still Hits Hard
When I first came across Yinka Shonibare, I didn’t just see colourful fabrics or quirky installations. I saw an artist who forces you to ask questions you probably didn’t plan on asking. He doesn’t just create art for the walls of galleries. He creates moments that punch you in the gut and make you think about power, history, race, and privilege in ways that stick with you.
Most people know him for the Dutch wax fabrics. Bright, bold, instantly recognisable. But here’s the twist—those fabrics aren’t even “authentically African.” They were manufactured in Europe, inspired by Indonesian batik, and then sold into West Africa during colonial trade. That’s exactly why Shonibare uses them. He’s showing us how culture, trade, and identity have always been messy, layered, and never as pure as we like to believe.