Tanlume Enyatseng unpacks how the Lagos-based painter uses the nude as a site of emotional resistance and existential inquiry.
Daniel Oruwhone, Untitled (Finding Us), 2024. Oil and acrylic on canvas. Courtesy of the artist.
In the Lagos-based studio of Nigerian painter Daniel Oruwhone, the male body is neither heroic nor hidden. It is not adorned with cultural motifs nor posed in grand performance. Instead, it is quiet, stripped bare, often alone, caught between stillness and becoming. In a region where the visual language around masculinity remains tethered to restraint and strength, Oruwhone’s work, particularly his ongoing body of paintings, Baring the Self, is an act of deliberate subversion.
West African art history, while rich in symbolism and philosophical depth, has rarely given sustained space to the subjectivity of the Black male nude. When male bodies do appear, they are most often clothed in symbolism or stripped of interiority, flattened into form, function, or cultural spectacle. But Oruwhone, born in 1996 and trained at the Polytechnic Ibadan, offers a visual and emotional counter-narrative: a poetics of vulnerability, exposed through figuration.
In Baring the Self, the body becomes a metaphor, not of dominance, but of openness. “Centring male nakedness as my primary subject is a deliberate choice to explore vulnerability and intimacy,” he shares. “I aim to create a sense of quiet contemplation and invite the viewer to engage with the subject on a deeper level.” His brushwork in oils is unflinching yet tender; flesh tones are rendered with care, but never fetishised. In these works, nudity is not erotic; it is existential.
Daniel Oruwhone, Untitled (Finding Us), 2024. Oil and acrylic on canvas. Courtesy of the artist.
This shift toward emotional presence marks a radical departure from dominant portrayals of Black men in both art and society. Traditionally, masculinity in West African contexts has been coded through silence, discipline, and stoicism. To be seen and still, to be naked and unperformative, is to risk interrogation. Oruwhone understands this risk. But rather than retreat from it, he paints through it. “My work challenges these cultural expectations by using nakedness as a metaphor for vulnerability and openness,” he explains. “True strength lies in embracing vulnerability… because to be vulnerable is, in fact, to be courageous.”
This framing situates Oruwhone within a growing movement of African artists—particularly younger, post-1990s voices—who are opting to explore interiority over iconography. What makes Baring the Self so compelling, however, is its insistence on the body as both subject and symbol. Inspired by existentialist philosophers such as Jean-Paul Sartre and Martin Heidegger, Oruwhone approaches the figure as a space of inquiry, rather than completion. “I’ve come to see the body as a site of constant negotiation and becoming,” he says, drawing on Heidegger’s idea of being-in-the-world to explore the human form as a living contradiction. Fragile, resilient, visible and concealed.
Here, the nude becomes an instrument of reclamation. “I’m reclaiming the body from societal expectations, cultural norms, and historical constructs that have reduced it to mere objectification or shame,” he reflects. The reclaiming he speaks of is not loud, but it is deeply political. In a visual culture saturated with images of Black men as either threat or ideal, reclaiming the body as imperfect, questioning, and emotionally complex is an act of quiet rebellion.
Oruwhone’s own journey as an artist has been marked by moments of resistance and unexpected openings. After being rejected in an open call, he attended the artist talk nonetheless, an encounter that eventually led to his first group exhibition in Ibadan. “That experience taught me the importance of context and audience,” he says. His commitment to showing up, even in the face of exclusion, echoes the very themes that define his work: presence without performance.
Daniel Oruwhone, Untitled (Finding Us), 2024. Oil and acrylic on canvas. Courtesy of the artist.
The reception of his work in Nigeria, particularly among male viewers, has been nuanced. “Some men have been receptive to the idea of redefining what it means to be a man in Nigeria,” he notes. Others remain uncertain. This ambivalence is expected; vulnerability is rarely rewarded in patriarchal societies. But Oruwhone does not aim to resolve discomfort. Instead, he asks viewers to sit with it. “If my work could bring a connection between the viewer and their own body, I would hope they walk away asking themselves: What does my body mean to me?”
That simple, inward-facing question underscores the larger cultural proposition embedded in Oruwhone’s practice: to rehumanise the Black male body, not through abstraction or activism, but through honest, unguarded figuration.
Looking ahead, Oruwhone is curious about expanding his practice beyond canvas. He speaks with excitement about exploring installation and performance, citing influences like Ibrahim Mahama and Marina Abramović. His vision includes public and community-based projects that create dialogue beyond the white cube. “I want to create works that spark real conversations and change,” he says.
In a time when visibility is often equated with power, Baring the Self reminds us that exposure can also be tender. In Daniel Oruwhone’s paintings, the male body is not a monument; it is a mirror. Cracked, reflective, and deeply human.
Tanlume Enyatseng is a journalist and cultural entrepreneur with over eight years of experience at the intersection of public relations, cultural production, creative direction, and social media content strategy for the arts and culture. As the founder of Banana Emoji Studio, his practice is rooted in making art more accessible through innovative storytelling and data-driven approaches. Tanlume founded and contributed to Banana Club, a queer artistic collective that creates spaces for dialogue through contemporary art. He was recently awarded the 2023/2024 Writer in Residence at Photoworks UK and sat as a judge for the 2024 Portrait of Humanity photography award by The British Journal of Photography.
