Ghanaian artist Kwesi Botchway, asks us to look into the souls of the people he paints. From child vendors in street markets to the elders who pass down their generational wisdom, the painter explores the forgotten yet ever-present populations of his native Ghana. Technically trained by the Ghanatta College of Art & Design, he says his childhood experience with street artists was originally one of his inspirations to pursue art. His formal and informal education led him to Afro-impressionism, where he combines the stylistic approach of Afro-realism with the technical skillset of Impressionism. By employing a mixture of purple and black to paint his subjects as royal beings, Botchway dignifies their Blackness by using shades noted for their association with royalty.
Botchway’s style pulls you in to look at the detail of the brushstrokes, the layers of colours and shades, and the meticulously chosen accessories. Each portrait is singular: each individual’s energy is analysed and thoroughly understood. There is not just one person in these paintings but also the generations that came before them to inspire and build what we see on the canvas. He carries this attention to detail into his art studio in Ghana, WorldFaze Art Practice, where novice and established artists build community and enhance the art scene. By offering a residency to young talent where they can work with mentors and foment belief in themselves, Botchway shows how art can inspire, connect, and inform people of all backgrounds.
You said your mother took you to learn from the street artists when you were young. How did they, and your institutional education, help to develop your style and mission?
Both experiences shaped my perspectives about art because learning from a street artist gave me a totally different experience in terms of practical skills, while the Ghanatta College of Art and Design gave me a deeper understanding of art. There, I was exposed to higher levels of painting skills and its theory as well, which I am glad to have learnt. It has truly shaped the way I paint and how I perceive art in general.
When you’re creating, what is your thought process for who is consuming your art? Who are you painting for, and why?
Honestly, the thought that comes to mind when creating is Black people in general, both in Africa and the African diaspora, because my work is mostly about Black elevation. Black lifestyle is a life I live, so it makes sense to talk about or project it in my work and also be true to myself.
In your 2018 collection Age of No Return, you emphasise the importance of generational wisdom and showing respect to your elders. What is one place or practice that inspired you to pay respect to your elders and ancestors?
Growing up as a child, I have always been around elderly people, mostly with my grandma, and also I used to be that child who walked around the street markets a lot, and experiencing how old people struggle on the street really touched my heart and also opened my mind to a different spectrum of life, so I built an instant love, respect, and admiration for their struggles and their wrinkles. These are some of the interesting things that draw me closer to them, because at this latter part of life there is no more return. You live with your mistakes till you die. Mistakes become experience.
Nokofio Heroes (2019), on the other hand, focuses on the child street vendors in Ghana. Was there a specific reason for focusing on the elderly and children in your first two collections?
Yes, like I said with the elderly people on the street, it’s the same with children. Being a street child in Africa is also a different story altogether; especially with those kids hawking around with no proper care and facing child labour, it’s very disappointing. So, I decided to paint them with the mindset of elevating their spirits and also use my works as a form of motivation to give them faith and believe their situation won’t be forever.
With this series, you also discuss how growing up you had to choose the life of an artist and storyteller. How much agency is allotted to Ghanaian youth to decide their futures?
I grew up in the slums (Nima), and you know how rough things are in the ghettos, experiencing people dealing in weed, crack, robbery, prostitution, and scamming as a way to fight poverty. I still followed my passion with art and what I love to do best, which is painting and projecting how I see the world.
Dark Purple Is Everything Black (2020-ongoing) is your largest and longest collection that you’re still producing. Are you planning on finishing at some point? Do you think this collection could ever feel complete?
Great question. The Dark Purple is a body of works which I have a long-term plan for, using it to address various social, political, and historical events. I don’t think it will ever feel complete because a lot of thoughts went into it and there is a lot to talk about with this body of work, but yet still I am an artist, and I would like to experiment with different styles and disciplines, but for now I am more focused on the subjects I want to address with the dark purple.
The ongoing nature of this collection reminds me of how you once described “Blackness” as the “collective of Black people”, and in that sense, it’s not stagnant—it moves and fluctuates. How do you reflect this in your work?
Yes, I reflect Blackness in the way my work breathes, through shifting tones, layered textures, and evolving forms. For me, Blackness isn’t still; it carries the weight of journeys, migrations, and memories that keep reshaping who we are as a collective of People.
You emphasise that colours are characters and they speak to you. With purple, you say you did a lot of research on the history of the colour and its significance with royalty. What does mixing the purple with black and using it to depict Black people mean for you?
For me, mixing purple with black is about power and depth. Purple carries the essence of royalty, spirituality, and dignity. It holds a history of reverence. Black, on the other hand, grounds it; it’s the soul, the mystery, the truth of our being and also my way of honouring the strength and beauty that live within the Black experience.
You highlight the eyes and mouth in your work, and you’ve said that these facial features are what draw you in most when looking at portraits. Why highlight these features with the orange strokes?
For me the eye and the mouth are the gateway of the soul. These are pivotal in my works because they hold emotions, truth and memory. And the mouth, even when it's quiet, carries stories. You can almost feel the words that were never said. I use orange for the eye and the mouth because it brings the portrait to a state of dignity. It has warmth, energy, and a kind of vibration that feels human. It’s like giving the portrait a heartbeat that connects the viewer to what the subject feels.
Each portrait is very unique when it comes to the faces, but also with the style, accessories, and colours. How do you decide what colours to implement in the backgrounds and how to stylise the subjects of each portrait?
With the uniqueness of each portrait, it basically depends on the person I am depicting or the kind of presence I feel for them. I mostly like to sense their energy first; sometimes it's soft and calm, and other times it's bold and full of drama and rhythm. The colours in the background come from that feeling. I let the emotions of the person guide the palette. The accessories or the style are ways to extend their story, to give the viewer a window into who they are beyond the surface. So every choice—from colour to texture—is about translating the spirit into something you can see and feel.
You founded WorldFaze Art Practice as an exhibition and artist residency space to nurture young artists in Ghana, giving them the tools and network to encourage their craft. Can you describe this space in your own words?
It’s a great feeling to have Worldfaze Art Practice built. This is something I have dreamt about for a long time, and I am really thankful to the universe for giving me the strength to make it real. I’ve always wanted to lend a hand to young artists, to give them space to grow, to experiment, and to build their practice and find their voice. I know how it feels, being a young artist without access, without mentorship or even a place to exhibit your work. So Worldfaze is my way of filling that gap, a space where artists can connect, learn, and build confidence in their practice. It's about creating a community that contributes to the art ecosystem here in Ghana.
What are some of the successes you’ve experienced with the people who took part in the residency?
Some of the successes for me have been seeing how young artists connect with each other. How they learn, share ideas, and slowly build confidence in their practice. It's beautiful to watch them grow. Not just in skill, but in belief. You can actually see that shift happening when they start to trust their own voice as artists. And while I mentor them, I’m also learning from them. There’s a real exchange of energy. It’s also been amazing to see the wider art community start engaging with their work. That sense of growth and connection is exactly what I hoped Worldfaze would create.
What would a space like this have done for you in the beginning stages of your career?
A space like this would have done so much for me in my early days. Back then I didn’t have access to mentorship or places to show my work; I had to figure things out myself, step by step. Having a space like Worldfaze would’ve helped me see things differently, to grow faster and connect with other artists on the same journey. But at the same time, I am grateful for the path I took, because it taught me resilience and shaped how I now help others to find their path.
How is your studio different from the traditional art studio or gallery? What informed your decision to create a space like this?
Worldfaze art practice offers a blend of artist residencies, exhibitions, and art events, setting it apart from traditional art studios. Our space is dedicated to showcasing both emerging and established artists, creating an environment where creativity and collaboration can truly flourish. This structure draws inspiration from esteemed institutions like Art + Practice in Los Angeles and the Sharjah Art Foundation in Dubai, which skilfully combine exhibition spaces with opportunities for artist development.
You’ve noted Impressionism, African realism, and, your specialisation, Afro-Impressionism, as your biggest inspirations. Who are some of your biggest idols from these art disciplines? What modern artists inspire you today?
There are so many artists I learn from, especially those who explore themes around Blackness and identity. I’ve always admired artists like Kerry James Marshall, Barkley L. Hendricks, and Amoako Boafo. The way they capture the Black experience with such pride and presence really speaks to me. My practice with Afro-Impressionism draws from both impressionism and African realism, blending the emotions and brushstrokes of impressionism with the cultural richness and narratives of African realism. It's about creating something that feels alive and rooted in my own story.
Can you tell me a bit about why it is important to have Black representation in art from Black people themselves?
Black representation is very important in all creative aspects, not just in art, as a form of elevation and presentation to correct misconception and reclaim narratives that have often been overlooked. When Black artists tell their own stories, it brings authenticity and depth. It's not just about visibility but about the truth.
I saw that you recently finished a residency with Vielmetter in Los Angeles, and your work has been exhibited internationally numerous times. What do you find are the reactions when you take your exhibition outside of Ghana? How do you think your work is interpreted by the diaspora of Black people compared to those residing on the continent, and specifically in your home country of Ghana?
Honestly, I’ve exhibited in Ghana and internationally, and I find that audiences everywhere connect to my work in their own way. In Ghana the art industry is still young and growing, but the enthusiasm is real. Abroad, especially within the diaspora, people tend to engage with the work more analytically. They ask questions and are curious about my colour choices, like why I paint the eyes and the lips orange. I enjoy that curiosity because it opens conversation about perception, identity, and emotion—the very things my work seeks to explore.
