Experiencing Tonye Ekine’s art is like unearthing gold in a time when people still barter with stones. His paintings shine like hidden gems waiting for the world to uncover their brilliance. And the secret is most certainly out. In 2024 he enjoyed his first solo show, ‘One of Us’ at London’s Steingold Contemporary, plus he was chosen as one of 66 art fellows to learn under the umbrella of the John Akomfrah-led British Pavilion at this year’s Venice Biennale. What makes Ekine’s work special is its community-centred allure that anchors him as a bridge between the past and future of African artistry. And the bedrock of this anchor is his use of the Ife Bronze mask to characterise our everyday experiences as well explore his Yoruba heritage.

Ekine grew up in the tranquil city of Ibadan before proceeding to study art at the University of Ife, an institution renowned for its rich cultural tapestry and artistic foundations. It wasn’t until after a spell of stewing in Lagos’ chaotic corporate culture and a 2021 move to London to study a masters at the Camberwell College of Arts that Ekine truly found his artistic voice. “I’m very bad with names, but I have a photographic memory, so I began to realise I had the ability to observe candid moments and then make people reflect on themselves,” he shares.

African masks have long been a fixture in visual and performance art but the storied nature of the Ife masks set them apart from others. Carted away from Nigeria as spoils of sovereignty during colonial wars, they are regarded among the most important cultural artefacts in the world and one of the few relics of ancient African artistry. It was during a trip to the British Museum that Ekine was naturally drawn to the Ooni of Ife mask. “My research in school was to find the influence of masks in popular culture, so I figured, instead of researching the work a mask has inspired, why not showcase the history of this mask. I chose the Ife mask as it’s in my lineage through my maternal grandpa, Sooko Adedewe, who used to go to the palace to parlay with the Ooni.” Beyond this personal connection, he felt the need to highlight the art form’s eminence. “For a long time, they said the masks came from the Atlantis just because they didn’t want to admit it was made by Africans. The Ife and Benin bronze heads are listed as the 52nd most valuable artefacts in the world but we don’t know the artists that made them.”

In many of Ekine’s works, bold figures appear in domestic settings and states of repose. They are fashionably dressed yet their heads resemble these stately masks. His masterful use of vivid acrylic colours on canvas or silk evokes feelings of warmth as he explores mundane observations with a universal resonance. The Steingold Contemporary show illuminated the truth that our experiences, however varied, are ultimately similar, affirming the power of humanity to transcend race, ethnicity and language. It’s no wonder then that he’s been recently listed among 40 rising artists to look out for by the Royal Society of British Artists.

Unfazed by his growing accolades, Ekine remains deeply rooted in his desire to make art that not only mirrors our contemporary realities but contributes to the resurgence of African art in an industry that often only recognises non-western artists posthumously. “I am trying to use this mask to inspire a conversation about artists who have not gotten their flowers. I am giving them their flowers, but also stating that you don’t have to be old or be dead for people to appreciate your art and for it to transcend borders.”

In an era where rapid innovation often obscures our connection to the past, Ekine's art stands as a testament to the enduring power of cultural heritage and creative expression. From its textured cadence, historical reverence and striking ability to capture society at its most vulnerable, his works have a sensual mystique while documenting the fleeting nature of existence. “We are a technology generation, so we are used to seeing fast-paced images. We don’t take in a view from a balcony or sit to observe the things around us. This is just about pausing moments.”

When I ask Ekine what he wants his legacy to be, he bursts out in laughter, shying away from forecasting a future he feels is still nascent. But eventually, he acquiesces. “I want to be like a Black Pablo. I feel like we don’t have an artist from Nigeria or Africa who is celebrated on a global scale like Pablo (Picasso). I am still figuring out but I believe there is a space for us, and for these conversations to be had.”