Igshaan Adams is famous for the beauty in his work, but its conceptual basis is rooted in the processing of trauma. In his gestural dance prints, his shimmering sculptural tapestries and his glittering dust clouds there are messages of a search for freedom and a personal quest to heal oneself.
Born in 1982, Igshaan grew up in Bonteheuwel, a suburb of Cape Town under apartheid. As a mixed-race queer person, he dealt with a family hierarchy that echoed the societal one in South Africa. At that time, he was always looking for a way out. This led to a series of works based on desire lines, or detours from common routes as seen from above. Looking at Google Maps, he would study well-trodden alternative routes from above and weave them into his works, creating huge abstract patterns to beguile with a deeper message to discover.
Igshaan Adams Ameen, 2018
‘The geography and the layout of the space was very cleverly used to keep people separate, and what I find most interesting is that the physical boundaries that have collapsed since apartheid fell over 30 years ago,’ Adams says. ‘They have become mental boundaries, because people tend to stick to the spaces that they were allocated. They still don't leave; I think most people might not appreciate how difficult it is to exit.’
‘Between Then Now’ at MUDAM, Luxembourg, curated by Florence Ostende with Aneäl Daoud, takes three elements of Adams’ practice and shows them on a huge scale. Divided into sections, the show looks at the dance prints, made through danced improvisation by creating large monoprints, placed on painted canvas on lino. The dust clouds are improvised sculptures made from wire that appear different each time they are shown. The rooms are bridged by a corridor filled with what the artist calls his ‘archive of failures’ that are there for the audience to touch and see up close.
Igshaan Adams Holy Terrain, 2024
These works and experiments with materials and techniques often lay the groundwork for the larger pieces. There is something revelatory about touching the work. Adams’ art leans into beauty, sometimes adorned with costume jewellery and touching in their revealing of a strength, musicality and durability. These are not fragile things.
‘I want people to touch the work, but of course with museums and things, I understand that that is not always possible,’ Adams explains. ‘So, what we've been doing is asking the museum to just leave a little piece like this, a little swatch or a piece from the studio. With the curator here, we together decided to expand on this idea and make it much more important.’
His woven works, some monumental in size, others sculptural in nature, curve out from the wall, some almost iridescent and other draped with costume pearls and chains woven into the fabric of work. All the work is made on a loom and the techniques have been honed by Adams and his team over some years.
Igshaan Adams Wolkies blaas, 2020
Adams' studio is staffed with a team of makers, some of whom he has known for a very long time. It started as a way of bringing employment where there was none, and now it is a foundational aspect of how the work is made.
The dance prints are a result of a collaborative workshop with the Garage Dance Ensemble of South Africa’s Northern Cape, where dancers improvised on a painted canvas face down on lino, creating dynamic shapes and the occasional footprint. They are huge and double-sided; some are hung in the centre of the space facing each other, with traces of the movement used to keep them palpably in conversation. The layers of paint and movement appear abstract, but the traces of the human body remain.
The dust clouds relate to the dance prints in the sense that they embody movement. Some are even inspired by specific prints. These works are created somewhat organically in the studio with the artist and his assistants, who add items into the wire structures from tiny bells to chairs and shower hoses. Made of flexible wire, the works appear different every time they are installed. This is partly inspired by traditional dance performed by Adams’ relatives, which he experienced while growing up.
Studio at work, Cape Town, South Africa, 2023
‘I definitely think about them as dust clouds, and the reason for that is a particular dance that is done in South Africa. It's an indigenous dance I experienced through my grandparents, who are Nama from the Nama tribe, specifically from around Namibia and the Northern Cape,' he says. ‘They would kick the ground in a way that produces these clouds of dust and eventually you would see all these figures dancing through the dust, very beautiful, very feminine, and it's stayed in my memory. I certainly reference those dances when I'm installing them.’
When suspended, they take on another meaning for Adams, who is a Muslim and studies Sufism. They are prayers of liberation - unable to reach God they hang, glistening, and waiting for release. ‘They represent trapped prayers or desires and wishes, and it does refer to something very real that I've experienced myself. In a nutshell, it represents the judgements that I have against myself that have clouded my situation and trapped those prayers.’
These works, displayed together like this for the first time, draw you in as beautiful objects and hold you in the depth of their inspiration. Creating something beautiful out of trauma is no easy feat but here we see grief, memory, violence and the crime of apartheid articulated in a way that allows us to stand and look at it.
This summer, a series of tapestries inspired by the dance prints on view at MUDAM will go on view at Guggenheim Bilbao. Between Then Now is on view at MUDAM, Luxembourg until 23 August 2026