Brice Arsène Yonkeu Brings Diaspora Dialogue to Gagosian Park & 75

Editor’s Note: This story is part of Newsmakers, a new ARTnews series where we interview the movers and shakers who are making change in the art world.

If you happen to stroll past Gagosian’s Park & 75 space this summer and think, “Ah, yes, another pristine blue-chip group show,” you may want to circle back. “Ever So Present II: Between Home and Elsewhere,” curated by independent curator Brice Arsène Yonkeu, is something different.

It’s the second installment of a two-part exhibition that began at dot.ateliers, the foundation–cum–exhibition space launched by Ghanaian painter Amoako Boafo in Accra in 2023.

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“Ever So Present” brings together four artists of African descent whose practices stretch across painting, photomontage, and assemblage. As Yonkeu told ARTnews in a recent interview, these artists may be young and emerging, but they are “complete artists.” The result is less a themed showcase than a visual conversation—one that considers the diasporic self in all its fluid, shifting complexity.

Yonkeu, a cofounder of Bwo Art Gallery in Douala, Cameroon, is the first curator invited to participate in dot.ateliers’ new residency program for curators, writers, and filmmakers. With “Ever So Present II,” he expands on the questions posed in the Accra show—about memory, migration, and belonging—asking what remains “ever so present” in the work of diasporic artists as they move across borders, cultures, and time zones. The answer, here at least, is not one thing but a tapestry of visual narratives and personal histories.

ARTnews sat down with Yonkeu at Gagosian’s Upper East Side gallery during the show’s installation to talk about what carried over from Accra, how identity resists simplification, and why he sees curating as a form of conversation.

ARTnews: The show began in Accra and now it’s on the Upper East Side. What do you think carries over between the two settings? Or is there something that gets lost in translation?

Brice Arsène Yonkeu: That’s a very good question. In Accra, I was responding directly to what the artists had created during their residency, and Accra—the city, its environment—had a strong impact on the work. This version in New York is a bit different. I wanted to continue the conversation but expand it. Here, the artists are not necessarily responding to a single place. They’re speaking from and to many places. What connects both shows is the presence of something that lingers. That’s what I mean by “ever so present.” It’s what remains.

Let’s talk about the artists. Emma Prempeh’s work stood out immediately to me. The atmosphere, the light, the brushwork—it feels so intimate.

Emma’s work is very special. Her mother’s life and memories are central to her practice. One of the paintings in the show, Di sea have many ghost, was made after a photograph taken during her first visit to Saint Vincent, where her mother is from. It was also her mother’s first time returning in over 40 years. So there is this intergenerational return happening—a loop. And the way Emma uses light, texture, even schlag metal that oxidizes over time—it’s all part of how she paints memory.

There’s also this cinematic feel. Like you’re walking into a scene that’s already unfolding.

Exactly. That’s a big part of her visual language. And lately, she’s started painting more landscapes—outdoor memories, you could say. It’s a development I’ve been very happy to see.

Another work that really pulled me in was the piece by Josèfa Ntjam. There’s so much packed in—you could stand in front of it for an hour and still find new connections.

Josèfa works with photomontage, and the layering is incredible. She pulls from archives, historical images, family photos. In one work, she brings together Saku Ne Vunda, the first African ambassador to the Vatican; Henrietta Lacks; and Harriet Tubman. It becomes this cartography of Black resistance—a constellation of memory and protest and presence. And her technique, the sublimation printing on aluminum, gives it this futuristic glow.

And then you have Luke Agada, whose work is very different—more abstract, but still emotionally charged. His drawings are my favorite part of this show.

Luke’s paintings are about transformation. He was born in Lagos, moved to the U.S. for grad school, and his work embodies that in-betweenness. He used to be a veterinarian, actually, and there’s an organic quality to his forms. He paints this psychological space—what Homi Bhabha might call a “third space.” You can see traces of memory, landscape, maybe even architecture. But it always stays open.

Boafo’s work is the most figurative in the show, and also the most central—literally and metaphorically. Did you feel any pressure curating a show that includes him, especially since it’s his residency program?

To be honest, I saw it as an opportunity. I’ve admired his work for a long time. There was no pressure—I curated the show and then sent him pictures once it was installed. The work in this show is one of the most intimate I’ve seen from him. The figure’s arms are open, welcoming, but also slightly divided. It’s as if she’s holding a space for us and reflecting it back at the same time.

When you’re curating a show that deals with identity, how do you avoid falling into clichés?

That’s something I think about all the time. I don’t come with a fixed idea of what identity is. I come with questions. I’m interested in the complexity of diasporic experience—not to simplify it, but to show its layers. These artists are all saying something different. My job is to create a space where those voices can resonate.

There’s a thread of memory running through the whole show. Was that something you planned, or did it emerge organically?

It was very organic. I started with a one-page curatorial brief—an outline of ideas I wanted to explore. From there, I thought about which artists could speak to those ideas. And then, as the works came together, new connections emerged. I always say that an exhibition should feel like a book. Each artist is a character. Each work, a chapter. You walk through, and the story unfolds.

And the best part is: anyone can walk in.

That’s what I love about this space. The walk-in traffic is amazing. People from all walks of life come in, not just the art world. I want exhibitions that speak to everyone—without oversimplifying. That’s what keeps it fun. And meaningful.

If you were to do this show again, or expand it somehow, is there anything you’d do differently?

I think I would include more mediums—especially sculpture. And I’d love to bring in artists who are thinking through ideas of transmission, especially intergenerational ones. What does it mean to carry something forward? To pass it down? There are so many ways to build on this exhibition. The themes aren’t fixed. They evolve with the artists, and with the places we show them.

“Ever So Present II” is on view at Gagosian’s Park & 75 location now through August 8.