Dissident identities, music, and art

As a multidisciplinary artist, do you see your various outputs as distinct or interwoven?

They’re completely interwoven but it also depends on the project that I’m working on. As time has passed, since I started this journey, I have learned how to mix music, visual art and/or performance to make my projects more complete. I started out as a visual artist, so when I decided to make music I already had a clear understanding of the power of an image, and I implemented it.

You described your first album as being about the realities of Blackness in Spain, how has your experience of this shaped your outlook, your sound, and your approach to art?

Growing up Black in Spain shaped me in many ways. The album, Negras Malas, came from lived experience: navigating racism, invisibility, friendship and survival in a place that often refuses to talk about race. Sonically, that pushed me towards genres that are often perceived as “white” like rock or indie, as a way of questioning who is allowed to belong where, specifically in this country, but at the end of the day it is just music I have been listening to since I was little. However, since we (black people) had almost no national references while growing up, that made me look up for Blackness internationally, so I also did connect with “black music”, though I don’t really like to use that term as I find it reductionist.

All of that, mixed together with my Equatorial Guinean heritage and the cultural exchange that happened between me and the friends and neighbors I had growing up–people from other parts of Africa, Latinx, Caribbean–have a role in my art. My queerness has also influenced my art a lot and both my blackness and my queerness made me question both parts of me, finding my own way of being black and/or queer, but most importantly, of being unapologetically me in any way… Not feeling reduced to my identity.

You’ve spoken before about how racism is not really on the public agenda in Spain, that must make aspects of your work more urgent, but must also present serious challenges?

Yes, definitely. When a topic isn’t publicly acknowledged, you’re often made to feel like you’re exaggerating or being uncomfortable on purpose. That creates resistance, but it also makes my work feel necessary sometimes, especially since there is almost no Black queer presence in Spain. The challenges, among many, are fatigue, invisibility and always having to explain your existence. The urgency comes from knowing that representation and naming things out loud can open doors for others, while at the same time closing doors for me.

You’ve said in previous interviews that your output’s focus varies, do you feel that contemporary artists are at times expected to be too uniform in their focus, mission or message? Do you think there’s a (possibly unfair) expectation that all contemporary artists should be activists, all of the time?

I think that at times contemporary artists are expected to be uniform in their focus, at least in my experience. Throughout my career I have received a lot of negative commentary about the way in which I blend artistic disciplines and musical genres However, for major artists and pop stars, versatility is something to be lauded and rewarded. Being black, queer and woke–let’s say–made people expect and want me to stay “on message", but they also kinda punish you for it, industry-wise.

I don’t think artists owe it to anyone to be a complex activist 24/7, contradiction and pleasure are also political.

But I do think that every artist is a citizen and part of the society they live in, so being aware and/or part of it just comes with the experience of living. Sometimes just existing, experimenting or having fun is a form of resistance.

All of that said, do you think of yourself as an artist with a mission? If so, how would you define it?

I don’t think I have a mission, but do have a lot still to express and explore with my art. I’m a person who constantly has many ideas.

You use the term ‘dissident identities’ when describing your interests as an artist. Could you explain a little what those identities mean to you, and what it is about them that excites and interests you? How does this interest in dissident identities play out in / influence your music and art?

Dissident identities are those that don’t comfortably fit into dominant norms around race, gender, sexuality, class or the body, but they can also have a connection with those who may be more privileged identity-wise, but have a way to express themselves or see the world in an unconventional way.

What excites me is the ability these dissident identities have to imagine other ways of living, loving and creating. In my work, that shows up in my aesthetics, genre-bending sounds, and narratives that refuse respectability. I’m interested in friction, vulnerability and refusal.


How does community building and the idea of connecting people come into your work and approach?

Community came to my life through friendships, having different interests and being around people that find connections with me either ideologically, through lived experiences, or identity-wise. I don’t see art as something isolated or individual but something that converses with the world.

You’ve spoken before about the failures of the education system when it comes to arts, particularly for people of colour. Can you elaborate on that, and about your own experience of arts education? Do you think the idea of formal arts education is becoming less important?

Formal arts education often reproduces the same exclusions it claims to critique. For people of colour, very often references are limited, access is unequal, and lived experience and their own backgrounds as artists are rarely valued. I don’t think formal education is useless, but it’s no longer the only–or even the main–place where meaningful artistic learning happens. Community, self-education and informal networks are becoming just as vital.

What do you feel are some of the most challenging/pernicious barriers to access and success for emerging artists, in Spain, or in a wider sense?

Class, nepotism and lack of resources are huge barriers. In Spain especially, the industry can be very closed and centralised, and racialised artists are often tokenised rather than supported in the long-term.

What makes you feel most valued, as an artist? What does artistic gratification look like for you right now?

Feeling valued for me mainly means being able to connect with others through my work. But also being given space, time and resources, without having to constantly prove my worth, is very important. Right now, gratification looks like depth rather than visibility: meaningful collaborations, audiences who really connect, and the freedom to evolve without being boxed in.

Lastly, what’s the next big project on your artistic horizon?

I’m currently developing new music and visual work that leans more into rhythm, futurism and collective energy. It will be less about explanation and more about embodiment, move and dance.