Textile Artist Anya Paintsil Elevates Traditional Craft Techniques Into Mythic Works

Often having a multicultural background organically creates these sorts of connections, but what was your process of weaving together Ghanaian folklore and hair practices with Welsh myths and craft traditions?

Because I’ve lived in England and I lived in Scotland, I’ve lived outside Wales for nearly 10 years now—I’ve started to miss home. In the same way that I felt disconnected from Ghana, I started to feel disconnected from Wales. And I always feel like growing up in Wales, I didn’t like it because of racism mainly and the way that I felt I was treated, the way that I was never made to feel at home. So I just really wanted to turn my back on it in some ways, but then especially through my work. And asserting that that is who I am and it belongs to me as much as anyone else, I felt more connected. Like, I want to know more, I want to figure out why things are. I’d climbed that mountain range, and then I thought, Why is it called the grave? And then I looked it up and thought, That’s mad! Then I realized I did know it. And I’d been told the story years ago, but I’d just been like, Yeah, whatever. A lot of my previous work has been portraits with my family. A lot of it has been concerned with memory: childhood memories, experiences, and knowing yourself and knowing your family. It’s a lot about connection and finding connections and figuring out how I can show who I am and also keep learning about who I am. Nobody knows 100% who they are, but it doesn’t come out of confusion. I think we all have things that we don’t really know about ourselves.

Like, because I grew up in Wales when I was a little kid, I was not interested in Welsh stuff at all. I was surrounded by it. It’s stuff that I learned at school. But because I didn’t live in Ghana, I had just an urge to absorb every Ghanaian thing that I could, soak up as much Ghanaian culture as possible, learn the language, learn how to be Ghanaian. I didn’t really think about Welsh culture as much until my grandma died a few years ago. 

After our conversations, I feel as though I can guess, but what is the title of the show, “Proof of Their Victories,” referencing exactly? 

Well, it’s two different things. The actual words came from the story about the giant: The hair is proof of his victory. And for me, for a lot of my life I really hated having Afro hair. And I think I still kind of don’t like it sometimes and it’s mainly because of the work. I’m not always having the best self-care. While I was still living in Wales, I was 18. I used to be really, really embarrassed and terrified of going out with my hair in an Afro, because people would just be rude to me in the street, people would just make comments to me, people were trying to touch my hair. And up until I was in my early 20s, I still didn’t feel comfortable with it. And I think that working with hair so much has made me think that it’s just a part of who I am. Afro hair is so beautiful and so interesting. And also fun. Like, I’d rather have Afro hair than hair that I couldn’t do anything with. I love to be able to do all sorts of stuff. I love to be able to use my hair to express myself. Becoming okay with my hair is a victory. That stood out to me; and especially with working with the hair, and it’s on a personal level, it is a victory. A victory over racism, a victory over not having self-confidence and feeling ashamed of how it looked. For me, that’s a victory that I can work with it and not just think about it as something that made me different from other people, or worse than other people. I think it’s important to me, so, again, both things.

My boyfriend’s mom got me this scarf, so I wear it all the time, walking around not caring. Not caring is a victory. Being so just not obsessed with how other people see you, it’s good. It feels liberating. It feels victorious. I don’t think that how I look matters; it’s who I am that matters to me.