Eddy Kamuanga Ilunga’s art is a powerful critique of modern exploitation in Congo. He talks to Pin Africa about using his work to confront the unfavourable realities of clean tech.
Eddy Kamuanga Ilunga turns harsh realities into striking visual stories. Nature Morte, his fourth solo exhibition at London’s October Gallery, is a masterful blend of storytelling and symbolism. The collection of paintings merges traditional imagery with digital circuitry. Women have circuit boards etched into their skin, surrounded by traditional fabrics and modern tech symbols. A powerful mix that forces us to confront what’s happening in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC). As mining companies dig up the earth for ‘green’ energy minerals, Ilunga’s work reveals the human and environmental cost of the insatiable demands of the computer industry, our digital appetite, and consumption.
Pin Africa: Your work often touches on the tension between heritage and the push towards modernity in the DRC. Why do you think this conflict resonates so strongly, and how do you decide which elements of tradition or modernity to portray?
Eddy Kamuanga Ilunga: DRC was heavily impacted by colonialism in the past and faces a new form of economic control – one where large mining corporations come into the country to extract minerals. My previous series were historically focused, examining earlier forms of plundering that my country has suffered. My new paintings are concerned with the profound and devastating effects of mining pollution in the Lualaba province. Communities have been forced to move out because of mining. I witnessed the displacement of people and the toxic waste poisoning of their environment. I grew up in DRC and I understand its history of plunder and this new confrontation is of great concern to me.
There’s a beautiful contrast in the way your figures seem both heroic and mournful. Can you talk about how you approach this interplay of space and emotion in your compositions?
In my latest series, the female figures introduce the idea of resistance, tenacity and hope to take us into the future.
All my paintings begin with photographs produced in the studio with models – often friends or family members – enacting various scenes we create together on a constructed set. For the Nature Morte series, I went to the abandoned houses of the Congolese people and took elements: a door, a window, curtains and carpets, and reconstructed a scene in my studio.
It can take months for me to think about the compositions and poses of the models within the mise en scène. When my models get tired, that’s when I often see the perfect picture for me. The women appear mournful because their fatigue reflects their weariness with exploitation.
“I’d like my works to have at least as many meanings as possible for the people who encounter them and are challenged by the questions they pose.”
With each new exhibition, you dive deeper into contemporary issues. In Nature Morte, you address toxic waste and neo-colonial exploitation. How has your focus evolved over time, and what compels you to tackle pressing, modern-day challenges?
There’s a sense of injustice. We are aware of climate change and the need to shift to green energy. Like everyone else, I use a mobile phone, but I also know where it comes from. I’m trying to confront the contradiction involved in making ‘clean green energy’ using foreign industrial mining processes that have nothing to do with ‘clean’ or “green’. This means extracting cobalt and lithium from the Congo for batteries–there’s nothing green about this process. DRC seems to have become a sacrifice and I want to raise awareness about this in my latest work.
I’m curious about your choice to integrate digital circuitry into the skin of your subjects. What does this symbolism mean to you, when you consider the environmental and human costs associated with mining in the DRC?
When you view my paintings, you will see electronic circuit patterns etched into the skin of the figures portrayed. I began using this device over 15 years ago and there are many ideas behind it. The electronic circuit tattoos engraved on their skin refer to black skin as a space of exploitation.
These people have been exploited through the transatlantic slave trade, colonialism, enforced religious indoctrination by Portuguese, and later Belgian missionaries, and the exploitation of Congo’s mineral resources to benefit strangers. In my historical series, the iconic digital skin was a leitmotif that referred to the current situation, where valuable minerals such as cobalt, copper and coltan are mined by multinational companies to feed global demand for digital computers, mobile phones, and more recently, electric car batteries. I want my work to highlight that this exploitation continues.
Your works often include vivid references to the tech industry. How do you balance these symbols of modernity with the cultural elements, like fabrics and ritual objects, without one overshadowing the other?
Well, I carefully select the fabrics from the local market and I drape them over the models – what I’m looking for is a certain authenticity. The composition takes time and is a balance of intention and chance between the different objects placed on the set.
Colour plays a powerful role in your work; it gets the attention of the viewer with its vibrant hues that feel inviting at first glance. As they look deeper, layers of pain, exploitation, and resilience begin to emerge. What’s your approach to using colour as a storytelling tool that draws people into difficult conversations and challenges them to confront uncomfortable truths?
I use vivid colours and detailed techniques to contrast with the gravity of the subject matter. My idea is to create a visual shock that forces the viewer to engage with vibrant colour, and the dark reality it conceals. This new series becomes a visual cry, a call for awareness, a declaration of survival in a world where destructive forces seem invincible, but resistance persists.
As an artist, you can’t control how audiences interpret your work. If you could make a wish, what do you hope this work evokes and provokes in audiences as they engage with the realities and stories of the Congolese people?
What’s important for me is to stimulate the dialogues that emerge between each individual spectator and these new paintings. These dialogues will depend on the lived experiences of each person who interprets my work in their own way. Everyone is invited to interpret and own them in their individual way. I’d like my works to have at least as many meanings as possible for the people who encounter them and are challenged by the questions they pose.
Nature Morte is at the October Gallery until 25 January 2025
