HCAF STARS SERIES, LEGACY INTERVIEW— ISIAH ADEPOJU
Question:
The Hilltop Creative Arts Foundation is known for her central role of nurturing creativity in youths across the country. How has being its member contributed to your growth as an artist, and what opportunities, or experiences have been most impactful for you?
Answer:
The Foundation is at the core of my creative practice. I started from there, after my father gave me a flyer about them. I was 18, I think. That was the first time I saw Adamu Usman Garko, and later met Mujahid Lilo. These two were my models. To be so young, intelligent, and up and doing big things. I was to later meet many others through the foundation. Razaq Salihu, Sunday Saheed, Zakiyyah Dzukogi, and innumerable others. These are young people who do things typically restricted to older people.
This to me is at the core of what Hilltop Creative Arts Foundation does. They engineer young people for bigger stages. This kind of community remains the greatest opportunity I have gotten from anywhere. It’s why I never want to miss HIASFEST, because I am reminded of how effective the participation of young people can be if support can be channelled in the right direction. HIASFEST is always a significant experience to me.
Question:
What themes and experiences push the creativity behind your work, and what part of the creative process poses a challenge to you?
Answer:
I have recently grown curious about “unequal” love relationships. Very old people and very young people. Especially those with genetic conditions. I have also been thinking about my city, Osogbo. About spaces generally, structures, and how they affect the psychological self. I have had a crucible experience with rooms. Always dark, marked by presence, tense, and into which I shred away my bits and pieces. I have been writing about this experience in different ways, thinking through different media. The attempt to capture what seems to me a simple existential phenomenon— a boy’s relationship to the darkness of room— poses a challenge to me. Simple doesn’t always mean easy.
Question:
As a renowned creative, what advice would you give to emerging artists who are looking to balance the pursuit of artistic excellence with the desire for recognition and validation?
Answer:
The desire for recognition and validation is a vital human need. They have crossed my thinking a few times, but I automatically dispose of them because I can’t pin down what it means to be recognised. Recognition, that is, public recognition, always looks embarrassing to me. It’s like strange people applauding you infinitely during your birthday when you are tired of smiling. Recognition and validation strike me as that kind of plasticity. Of course, that is not to say they are entirely useless. The focus should be, instead, on the work. Experimentation takes away your attention from the desire for recognition and validation.
Question:
What purpose fuels your creativity ?
Answer:
I don’t know. I am unsure I have one.
Question:
Fifty years away from now, what do you want the literary world to perceive of your art?
Answer:
As a private artefact. Something people retire to by evening, and they hide away before it is clear morning.
Question:
Is representation a priority for you, and do you see a need for your writing to reflect your background, or ancestral links?
Answer:
The question of representation stems only from insecurity about cultural belonging. It’s the kind of argument some writers have when they are in a strange place. Representation becomes another way of validating their presence. They want to reflect their ancestry, because the fear of not doing so, or not doing so enough, might displace them. For me, that question doesn’t exist. It’s extraneous, at best. I have the need, instead, to write, to write something really good, so good it becomes private and sacral.
