Myles Igwe on the search for creativity.
Interviewed by Ellie Aylwin, Sinead Adams and Abim Adegbembo
Myles Igwe stands out as a fascinating example of transformation. From navigating the structured world of corporate investment banking to carving out a unique space in the creative realm, Myles’s journey is anything but ordinary. His work spans furniture design, spatial art, music, and more, reflecting a rich blend of his diverse experiences and deep-seated passions. In our interview, Myles opens up about his transition to embracing his true creative self. He delves into the challenges and rewards of merging different artistic disciplines and sheds light on his mission to reframe cultural narratives through his work. Whether it’s his impactful projects in Nigeria or his reflections on navigating multiple cultural landscapes, Myles’s story is both inspiring and relatable. We explore Myles Igwe’s remarkable journey—his creative explorations, his drive to make art that resonates on a global scale and his and his insights on staying true to oneself amid evolving passions.
Ellie:
In a previous interview, you said you take pride in the juxtaposition of your past experiences working in finance and your role now as an artist and designer. Can you tell us a bit about that transition between the two very different worlds?
Myles:
That’s interesting because I still see myself as having one leg in finance and one leg in design. I worked in corporate investment banking, public policy and luxury brand communications. So, the corporate world is not just finance, per se. It was also quite overly structured, and I did not do well in those confinements. I was conflicted because I felt something was missing. I've always wanted to make things, so even when I was in finance or a corporate job, I would still make chairs and tables, I'd draw, I’d paint, and I’d make music. One day, I had to ask myself, ‘What if I took a chance on creating art?’ I wanted to go to school for it to harness and refine this craft, and make it into my identity. Then I had to ask myself another question, ‘How do I refine this practice? There are so many different things that I do. I make music, I design furniture, I do spatial design, I do textiles, I paint, and I sketch. So, the question was, how do you tie all these things together without looking like you don't know what you're doing? Being in the Royal College of Art taught me a lot because my practice existed while I was in school. That was a whole other realm as well, where I had an ongoing and increasing practice, getting a lot of attention in Europe and North America, whilst being a student. You have to kind of compartmentalise. When I'm a student, I'm here to learn, but then I'm also a practising artist. So, how do I make sure these two things don’t conflict? I still want to learn, but then I also don't need an institution to validate my process. So I was constantly saying, ‘Okay, what do I take in? What do I not take in? What do I reject? What do I push back on? Also, being the only Black person in my program, I found that problematic so that's why I started the first African society. I thought, ‘I'm very interested in African issues, and my work is really about how I reposition cultural narratives.’ By using Africa as a place of context, that's where I'm from, but then not negating any other place. So other people, from other places can still use this as some sort of case study, like, ‘Oh okay, he was able to do that. I can do this.’ You don't even have to be from Africa, you can be interested in it, just be able to have this cultural discourse. That's what my entire practice is about, so it manifests in so many different realms, it can manifest physically, and it could also manifest as a concept. So I do a lot of design thinking; I do workshops, and I teach students. I think these are all the different aspects that matter.
Sinead:
You mentioned being a risk-taker and explorer. What kind of difficulties have you faced in your career?
Myles:
Outside of being, a young, Black, African kid who is trying to evolve his practice in Europe, and also my practice being predominantly around African culture - where a lot of people don't have context - I'm challenged to now give the user and the viewer enough context. So my problem is really about, how can I make sure that people delve into my work rather than receive my work? I want people to feel the curiosity that I felt when making. I want to create a call of action for you to ask yourself questions, for you to look at my work and say, ‘What does this mean to me? Why did he do this? Let me check what this means? Blah, blah, blah.’ I'm not trying to spell it out for you, because it's an interactive process. So, I want people to think; I want people to feel, I want people to use parts of their brain that they haven't used before.
A big part of the challenge is obviously in discourse and context. I remember a critique a tutor once asked me, ‘Why is your work relevant?’ It was a good question, obviously quite ignorant, but it was quite a good question because you need to be faced with these realities. What you're creating exists and it's beautiful in your world, but then you take it to another world, and they don't understand it. So the question is, how do you create a mechanism for that to thrive? So that's another challenge as well, where you also have to put yourself in the shoes of the user, or the viewer. How do you want them to feel? A lot of the time, we make work for ourselves. You have to ask yourself, ‘Am I making it for myself, or for others?’. So, I think when you constantly ask yourself these questions there a lot of voids, gaps, and challenges that you face and overcome. It's a very dark place sometimes, because you can be conflicted and like, ‘Oh, I just want to ‘make’ for myself. I don't care about anyone.’ So that's valid, because anything you validate is valid. People don't understand that you don't need anyone else to validate your work but yourself. But then that's also a dangerous place to be in, because then you've created a realm that only you exist in and it can be limiting. So if you view that as a potential challenge, the question is now, how do you also invite people in, without negating your own process? How do you sustain the process? How do you bring people in?’ That's another challenge, right? Without losing yourself and without also conforming.
Abim:
What are the differences and similarities between living in both Nigeria and the UK, and how does this influence your work? Do you feel like there's a tension between these two ideals?
Myles:
That's an interesting question because I was born in the US and moved back to Nigeria. I understand the complexities of culture shock. I understand the nuances of adaptation and know what it is to integrate yourself into a new setting because I learned that at a very young age, in my formative years. Imagine going back to the country where everyone looks like you, then boom you're an anomaly because you speak differently, have a different set of values, or a different social dynamic. Then you have to realise how to fit in, everyone here went to high school, so everyone understands that social dynamic. It's everywhere in the world, right? So I think, for me, looking at the similarities, the vibrance of these two cities. Lagos, for instance, although I was mostly based in the eastern part of Nigeria, and London, the vibrance of the cities, the people and that everyone’s always on, and all that kind of stuff.
The differences are a lot, you don’t need me to tell you that, the visa restrictions, etc, what's going on right now, as you can see with immigration, and the far-right people and all of that. You know, that's very problematic, right? Racism, etc. But that's also quite apparent in Nigeria, where I'm from, the Southeastern border of Nigeria, and my people have been marginalised since the early 50s, the civil war (the Biafra war) when the Igbo’s wanted to leave and create their own country. So all these traumatic events and issues of despair, these dark nuances that are the venom in society, all these social constructs and social dynamics are apparent in Nigeria as well, but just in different ways. I look at them as parallels.