Ndayé Kouagou

I asked Kouagou why he chooses to present his work in English. The answer stems from his early journal writing practice, which included some poetry. Simply put: when he wrote about love in French, he felt that the words were ‘corny’, so English became his language of expression. It also serves to distance his video avatars from his socialized identity as a French, Black male. To further this sense of disassociation, all the monologues he records are dubbed by Zimbabwean actor Salber Lee Williams.

Despite these disorientation tactics and the baseless self-help logic Kouagou’s aliases espouse, the artist’s body of work still offers a unique perspective that I hoped would cleanse me of angst and explain how to finally achieve self-actualization. The answer, it turns out, may not be in the words hammered onto the gallery walls but in the keen attention the artist pays to their presentation: The ‘freedom’ Kouagou and myself are in search of might be contingent on how successfully we perform self-confidence.

— Words by Edna Bohnomme in her article titled Ndayé Kouagou Makes the Case for Influencer Wisdoms for Frieze Magazine

In this monumental video installation, Ndayé Kouagou features a non-gendered character, carefully dressed and made up, with a feminine voice, who strolls along the walls of the gallery. Facing the viewer, with whom the protagonist—borrowing the artist’s features—wants to interact, a discourse unfurls, marked by timeless thoughts and feelings: doubt, self-confidence, love, the desire to escape, and otherness. This monologue, which is filled with humor, was written by Ndayé Kouagou and draws inspiration from various YouTube videos: tutorials, vlogs, and unboxings. The installation invites viewers to contemplate and analyze their own inner worlds, asking questions like, “Do we expect less or more?” “Are we trying to give or take?” and “Is this about you or us?”

—Words by Claudia Buizza & Ludovic Delalande

It’s hard to tell whether the artist’s style is extremely deep or superficial, serious or ironic ? Asked about this elusive style of writing, the artist replies that his aim is to give the audience time. Not to give messages that will be quickly digested, but to sow seeds that will then inhabit the mind and grow. This leaves the interpretation open, offering a degree of freedom but also a sense of lightness. This play with Manichaeism and a binary view of the world permeates all Ndayé Kouagou’s work. In his view, we all aspire to things that are simple and precise, but if we are faced with a binary choice, our brains get stuck. In one of his latest public performances, the artist encouraged the audience to divide themselves into two camps: the extraordinary people had to go to one side, and the average and/or meagre people had to go to the other. A choice that is both impossible and ridiculous, highlighting the difficulty of defining oneself.

— Words by Céline Poulin

“If you were looking for direction, this is definitely not the place” – spell the billboard-sized words on the aluminium wallworks. The message doesn't sound reassuring, yet it offers a warning, suggesting that there could be more to it. In the video a coin is a coin candidly speaking into the camera, the artist wishes to clear a misunderstanding and offer advice. Impersonating a figure that could emerge from the news and entertainment, Ndayé performs a specific kind of wayfinding. The artist prompts the question of movement and triggers spatial interrogation, not so much about where one is going, but where one stands – how one ‘looks’ and sees things. The video questions the position of viewers and their inherent biases. Ndayé knows that language controls and captures. Like in the series of small artworks that oscillates between layers of clarity and opacity, using fabrics imbued in resin covered by a text printed on a clear resin.

—Words by Giulia Civardi

- "After all a coin is a coin" is here to clear any misunderstanding. As we live in a world where things are opaque, "After all a coin is a coin" is clearly here to make things transparent. Do you doubt? You don't believe it? Just the title itself, "After all a coin is a coin", clear, simple, no confusion possible. That's what this is about, making things simple and bringing CHANGE into your life. An installation, promising a lot and delivering even more on topics like comfort, binarity and direction. If you don't believe it, you're sane, if you believed it, bless you. -

"After all a coin is a coin" (2022) is an installation presented for the first time at Liste Art Fair in Basel (CH) in 2022, and is now part of the Collezione Maramotti (IT).

I'll only swallow my own fluid. Such a weird decision, but, why? Of course the question is why, it's always why, but, why not? Ah! It’s even more difficult to answer to “why not” than to answer “why”. The answer is closer to “why not” than it is to “why”, and you know why? Because at some point you’ll have to swallow some fluid, so, why not your own? And you know what, it’s surprising that you’re ready to swallow a stranger’s fluid before even thinking of swallowing your own.

The video is continuing the series of work of the same name (2021—ongoing). A guide for people to ask themselves the right questions and become a good person. Of course, the video doesn’t bring any real answers, but opens conversations and thoughts in a humorous tone on what it means to be good. Accompanying the video installation, you could find a pamphlet stating:

I know what you want, I can see you struggling, you want to be a good person! I mean, what else could you wish for? As I’m myself a good person, I’m ready to share all the secrets I have for you to also become one, and as I know how busy you are, I’ll make my advice as short, effective and easy to understand as possible. I’ll give you an advice, a real good quick advice, for you to become a good person.

Where can I feel comfortable in this changing world?
The only place where I feel comfortable is in a corner, so I brought my own.
Will you feel comfortable in my corner?

Ndayé told me a few things about this exhibition, whose title “TBH if it’s not about me I’m not really interested”, acts not only as provocation but as marketing strategy. In the history of messages written in bold capital letters, what is conveyed often enacts togetherness and solidarity (in one way or another). The display of a seemingly shameless egocentric statement (whose font only bolsters the boldness of it all) might throw off a few, but is soon enough owned by the reader (you), and make you ask:
(1) Yes, indeed, I’m never that interested if it’s not about me (self-reflection stage);
(2) No really, I’m not ONLY interested if it’s about me… (empathetic stage);
(3) Who’s ME? (metaphysical stage).

—Words by Cédric Fauq

I’m sorry, I’m really sorry… I have to stop saying I’m sorry, because: I’m not sorry and I hate people who always say sorry (that includes you my love). But what will I be sorry about? What did I do? I lied, I mean, not really, let’s say I promise something and deliver something else or maybe I promise something that sounded like something but was something else, not really a lie finally. I promise a simple and easy talk about love, a simple conversation with love as a topic. And what did I deliver…

Nir Altman asked me to imagine a show for Various Others 2020, so that’s what I did. The show is called “I like them, they're nice”. We decided to invite Paul Maheke and Rebecca Ackroyd. Why this artist you ask? Because I like them, they’re nice.

No need for a wall, it’s a garden. No need for a roof, it’s a garden. No need for much, it’s a garden. One person will build the foundation and the other one will build the furniture and I’ll do the rest. No concrete for our foundation but a constantly moving presence, to welcome you and anyone who wanna join. A nice place for a conversation or maybe THE conversation, with a perfect cast, why them you ask? Because I like them, they’re nice.