Benson Apah

Let's start at the beginning—how did you first come to photography, and how has your early background in poetry influenced your visual work?

APAH BENSON: I started taking photographs in late 2018, right after graduating from university. It was a time of significant transition, and I was dealing with multiple realities. I had already been writing and publishing poetry, and it was my first tool for critical self-expression. This early background naturally influenced my curatorial and compositional approach to art and life in general, deeply impacting my photography from day one. I felt a burning need to capture life compositionally and aesthetically beyond just text, and this need ultimately drew me to the camera, offering a way to transform personal and collective experiences into lasting visual forms.

Your practice spans fine art, documentary, and conceptual portraiture. How do you decide which approach to use when telling a story?

AB: Each genre of photography certainly serves its own purpose. However, for a truly cohesive and rich story, I usually employ two or more genres. The specific genres I choose depend strongly on the kind of narrative I want to tell. My core goal remains consistent across all my work, regardless of the genre—whether it's documentary, fashion, editorial, or fine art—or the specific theme, be it climate change or socio-economic issues. I always aim to create work that is both aesthetically compelling and impactful in its message.

Can you walk us through the origin of Eyo: The Ceremonial Ghost—what drew you to this subject, and why now?

AB: The origin of "Eyo: The Ceremonial Ghost" began with a keen observation. I noticed elements of post-colonialism subtly seeping into our most sacred cultures and heritage. This intrusion was particularly evident in the sacred attire of our masquerades, with some now wearing socks or jerseys, stepping away from the root customs that were once part of a much deeper spiritual conversation. That specific observation drew me to want to document this transformation, exploring how tradition confronts contemporary influences.

What does the Eyo masquerade mean to you personally, and what role did memory or lived experience play in shaping this series?

AB: For me, the Eyo masquerade is a profound metaphor for purity, culture, and spiritual reverence. As a young boy, I grew up admiring the dancing, performances, and festivals centered around certain masquerades. I've always been fascinated by the stories behind the mask and the deeper cultural significance they hold. This personal connection, alongside my childhood memories of these captivating beings, deeply shaped my approach to this series.

The Eyo festival has shifted from sacred rite to public spectacle. How do you navigate the complexity of honoring a tradition while also critiquing or reinterpreting it?

AB: To critique effectively, one must first properly understand and appreciate the subject. The shift of the Eyo festival to a public spectacle presents a dual consequence: it allows for the globalizing and showcasing of our culture to the world, but at the same time, it risks the adulteration or westernization of such a sacred rite. I genuinely believe we can achieve the former without dishonoring what we have held dear for generations.

This is precisely what I aim to demonstrate through my work—to highlight the enduring importance of these rites and culture, even as they evolve in the public eye.

Why was it important for you to stage the portraits in front of the banyan tree? What does that specific setting symbolize to you?

AB: The banyan tree, especially in Kaduna and more broadly across Nigeria, holds significant cultural and spiritual meaning as a symbol of strength, resilience, and longevity. I wanted the tree to serve as a powerful metaphor for the enduring nature of the Eyo masquerade itself. It symbolizes how these sacred rites and traditions have lived on and will continue to persist as an intrinsic part of us, even in the face of potential infiltration from Western cultures and colonial influences. It represents our continuous resistance to cultural and spiritual erasure.

In the work, traditional elements are altered—like replacing the opambata staff with tape. Can you speak to how these "quiet interventions" operate in the series?

AB: These "quiet interventions" are a call to attention, highlighting the slow, minute, yet significant alterations to our very heritage that can occur without us even realizing it. The use of tape, specifically, also functions as a motif for re-imagination of the Eyo masquerade, subtly suggesting how contemporary elements can interact with and reinterpret tradition.

How do you think your work speaks to the idea of inheritance—not just familial or cultural, but also aesthetic and ideological?

AB: My work serves as an homage to our ancient forefathers and long-lasting traditions, making it a direct documentation, appreciation, and re-imagination of inheritance. It's not just about familial or cultural lineage, but also the aesthetic and ideological inheritance that shapes our understanding of the world. My practice relies on not just being able to tell stories, but to tell them aesthetically while retaining the original, intended impact of those stories, thus passing on this rich, multifaceted inheritance.

What role does observation and care play in your process, especially when working with cultural subjects that carry spiritual or communal significance?

AB: Observation and care are absolutely paramount in my process, especially when dealing with cultural subjects that carry such profound spiritual or communal significance. It's about meticulously paying attention to every detail, ensuring that the message you want to convey is clear and respectful. Every element matters, from the nuanced portrayal of the subject to the overall significance of the work, and my goal is always to make sure it exalts the subject or object being spoken about, rather than misrepresenting it.

Your submission reflects a deep engagement with Yoruba cosmology. How do you approach spirituality and symbolism in your broader body of work?

AB: My work tackles diverse themes, and spirituality is certainly one of them. Having grown up in a society that is spiritually diverse—encompassing Christianity, Islam, traditional African religions, and many more—I've learned to subtly incorporate tenets from these different belief systems. Most critically, Christianity has influenced me since I grew up Christian and have remained so. My approach is to weave in these spiritual elements and symbols in a way that enriches the narrative and adds layers of meaning, often drawing from the rich tapestry of beliefs I've been exposed to.

What does it mean to you to "hold space for both beauty and complexity," especially in projects like this one that confront transformation and loss?

AB: For me, holding space for both beauty and complexity is crucial. It means not just presenting complex work or challenging topics, but presenting them in a highly curated way—a way where the entire process of creation and artistic vision has shaped it to be exactly as you want it to be. It's about meticulously crafting the narrative and visuals so that even in confronting transformation and loss, the inherent beauty and profound nature of the subject shine through.

Who are some of the influences—beyond Aida Muluneh and Richard Avedon—that have shaped your thinking around portraiture and storytelling?

AB: Beyond those renowned names, my influences truly come from everyday life and other contemporary photographers, both locally and globally. I'm also constantly surrounded by artists in my life—painters and sculptors—and their approaches to form, light, and narrative all play a significant part in influencing my work and refining my vision for portraiture and storytelling.

You mentioned expanding into collage and installation. What draws you to these mediums, and how might Eyo evolve in that direction?

AB: Collage, to me, is a simple yet complex mosaic of parts and pieces of stories that come together to make a whole. I've always believed in the accumulative effect of things and how we are all part of a bigger picture; working with collage allows me to play and experiment with that idea. For me, installation is a final consequence of creating or re-imagining. The Eyo masquerade and many other masquerades that I end up re-imagining will ultimately evolve into beautiful, immersive installations or sculptures that people can not only see but also feel and touch, offering a truly multi-sensory experience.

In your view, how can contemporary African artists challenge or reshape dominant narratives about tradition, identity, and history?

AB: There are several artists to mention, both from Nigeria and across Africa, as well as within the diaspora, who are actively challenging and reshaping these narratives. By re-engaging with our heritage, reinterpreting traditional forms through contemporary lenses, and creating work that speaks authentically to our lived experiences, contemporary African artists can powerfully dismantle stereotypes and present a more nuanced and dynamic understanding of our traditions, identities, and histories to a global audience.

If there's one feeling or question you hope viewers leave with after seeing Eyo: The Ceremonial Ghost, what would it be?

AB: I hope viewers leave with questions about what the Eyo masquerade is, what it truly represents, and a profound prompt to investigate this magnificent being that exists so powerfully between the spirit world and physical life.