Samantha Ngwenya
Born in Bournemouth in 1995, Samantha Ngwenya explores the beauty of the mundane, the overlooked, and the sacred spaces we take for granted. Raised in a creative household where music was ever-present, she initially lost her connection to art amid the twists of adulthood until an unexpected reckoning: getting kicked out of university. That moment forced Samantha back to herself, to the raw magic she had forgotten.
Her first series, Windows, began with a simple act – painting what I saw from a window. This sparked an ongoing exploration of everyday spaces: interiors, skateparks, bathrooms – places that hold unspoken stories. Skateparks are chaotic yet communal, where creativity and bravery collide. Bathrooms, spaces of ritual and reflection, become arenas for solitude, collaboration, even rebellion. These overlooked places reveal our shared humanity, if we choose to see it.
In a world obsessed with speed and ambition, Samantha’s work urges a return to life’s quieter details. Yet, even as she advocates for simplicity, she wrestles with her own longing for "more” – a tension that fuels her practice.
Now, in Berlin, Samantha is exploring new cultural landscapes and continuing this visual diary – a conversation about connection in a world that often insists on division.
Made up of over 8,000 individually painted tiles, Supernova captures the soul of a Berlin bathroom that demands your attention. The walls are a chaotic masterpiece, layered with graffiti, stickers, and questionable decision-making.
At the heart of it all is the unmistakable “1UP" tag – an emblem of Berlin's legendary graffiti crew, One United Power. For the uninitiated, 1UP is more than just a tag; it’s a middle finger to conformity, a high-five to collective creativity, and a reminder that sometimes it takes a spray can to reclaim your home.
Bathrooms are the ultimate confessional booths. This one is no different – equal parts gritty shrine and urban hideout. It's where secrets are shared, truths are spoken, and eyeliner is fixed with a level of focus NASA would envy.
This bathroom isn’t just a setting, it’s a metaphor for the unsung corners of life that often go unnoticed. It’s a love letter to the comfort of home, the kind we rarely pause to appreciate. A little grimy, a little raw, but it’s these imperfect, lived-in spaces that remind us what home truly is: a patchwork of memories, chaos, and unapologetic character.
In a world so eager to highlight our differences, the bathroom stands as a unified truth – a sanctuary where peace, relief, and a moment to just be are always within reach.
Supernova
Soaked in deep, saturated reds, A Whisper called Light pulls you into the heart of a Berlin bathroom shrouded in mystery. The walls layered with graffiti and scattered stickers are a testament to a space lived in, when left to its guests devices.
There’s a darkness that permeates the room and a quiet intensity that wraps itself around you as you stand before it. At the centre of this raw, chaotic space, a single white light breaks through – small, modest, yet undeniably present. Guests and wonderers attempt to silence it with whatever they can, and it becomes hidden in plain sight, casting soft, flickering shadows that paint the room in a gentle glow.
This light is not loud. It does not force you. Instead, it whispers. A soft, encouraging murmur amidst the noise. It calls to you without using words, offering warmth, comfort, and perhaps a quiet moment of clarity. That whisper feels something like the offering of solace amid the dark. A flicker of light where everything else seems uncertain.
The border of eyes waits patiently on your next move, reminding you that even in this bathroom, your privacy is not so private. The stare lingers, while the light speaks in hushed tones – its quiet promise that even in the darkest corners, there’s a flicker of something good, something bright.
The light is not an escape, but an invitation; a chance to pause, reflect, and be reminded that hope can be soft, fleeting, and yet ever-present, even in the most unexpected places.
This piece is a meditation on that balance between shadow and light, chaos and peace. It’s about finding a moment of quiet in a space that seems too loud to ever contain it. The light offers that hope, subtle and soft, like a voice that calms the noise and leaves you with something more, something worth returning to time and time again.
