Joana Choumali, ‘The Day Dreamer,’ Serie Alba’hian, 2025, mixed media: Digital photograph printed on cotton canvas, manual collage, embroidery, painting, sheer fabric and muslin, metallic, lurex cotton and wool threads Triptych, 100 x 150 cm (39.4 x 59.1 in), courtesy of the artist and GALERIE FARAH FAKHRI Photo by Hussein Makke.
Joana Choumali’s art unfolds like a whispered meditation: layered, luminous, and deeply personal. Her works begin as photographs taken at dawn, capturing the quiet emergence of day in Abidjan and other cities. She then embroiders directly onto these images, adding layers of tulle, organza, and thread. This tactile process, which she likens to “automatic writing,” allows her to explore themes of memory, resilience, and the interplay between dreams and reality. Each stitch is a contemplative act, transforming fleeting moments into textured narratives that bridge the physical and spiritual realms.
Born in 1974 in Abidjan, Côte d'Ivoire, Choumali studied graphic arts in Casablanca, Morocco, before working as an art director in advertising. She later shifted her focus to photography, specializing in conceptual portraiture and mixed media. Her work often delves into cultural identity and the complexities of African traditions in contemporary contexts. Notably, her series “Hââbré, The Last Generation” documents the fading practice of facial scarification among the Burkinabé people in Côte d'Ivoire. In 2019, she became the first African recipient of the Prix Pictet for her series “Ça va aller,” which combines photography and embroidery to address collective trauma and healing.
Joana Choumali, ‘New Growth,’ Serie Alba’hian, 2024, mixed media: Digital photograph printed on cotton canvas, manual collage, embroidery, painting, sheer fabric and muslin, metallic, lurex cotton and wool threads
80 x 80 cm (31.5 x 31.5 in), courtesy of the artist and GALERIE FARAH FAKHRI. Photo by Hussein Makke.
In May 2025, Choumali’s work was featured in the exhibition “La Terre n’a qu’un Soleil” at GALERIE FARAH FAKHRI, in Abidjan, Côte d’Ivoire. This exhibition continued her exploration of layered narratives, showcasing her ability to weave personal and collective stories through her distinctive mixed-media approach.
In an interview with Global Voices, Choumali discusses the evolution of her artistic practice, the significance of her materials and techniques, and how her work serves as a conduit for introspection and dialogue.
Excerpts from the interview follow.
Omid Memarian (OM): Your series “Ça va aller”(2016) is renowned for its innovative use of embroidery on photographs. Could you elaborate on how this technique emerged in your practice and the specific emotions or narratives you aim to convey through this tactile medium?
Joana Choumali (JC): I started embroidering on my photos in 2015, from a need to spend more time with them. I love how a digital photo captures a moment in a second, while I can spend months or even years with that image printed on cotton canvas. I add layers of textiles to bring out the colors of the sky, then stitch in the character by hand, like a manual collage, but without glue. More layers of tulle, organza, or muslin follow, reflecting not just physical layering, but multiple ways of seeing several realities.
The sheer fabrics I added last evoke the dampness and softness of dawn — the dew, the light mist — something that reassures and welcomes me when the city is still asleep.
These layers help me express the many levels of life, both physical and spiritual. They bring together reality and imagination, morning light and inner vision. For me, adding thread and fabric is like automatic writing. It’s how I create beauty from what I observe and feel around me.
Joana Choumali. Photo: courtesy of Pimii Pango.
OM: Your work has shifted from documentary photography to mixed media. What experiences shaped this transformation, and how do you see the relationship between photography and these new materials?
JC: I think my work has become as assertive as I have. I’m no longer afraid to say what I need to — gently, but firmly. As we grow older, we learn to be clearer about what we want, what we reject, and what we express. The words, and the images, become more precise.
My work evolves instinctively, just as I do. It’s not planned. I can only create what I truly am or feel. That sincerity is essential, and I hope it comes through.
When I started “Alba’hian,” I worked on small pieces with lots of sheer fabric. I say my work was whispering then; I didn’t quite dare yet. The colors were pastel, the skies wide, the characters small, and the landscapes ethereal.
Over time, it felt like my lens zoomed in. What was inside me became clearer, in my head, my heart, my soul, and on the surface of the work. The images grew more defined, more meaningful. I moved from 50 x 50 cm to four-meter works. Now I’m working on a 2.40 by 1.60-meter piece, where the character spans several panels, over a meter tall.
Joana Choumali, ‘I Would Do Anything For You,’ Serie Alba’hian, 2025, mixed media: Digital photograph printed on cotton canvas, manual collage, embroidery, painting, sheer fabric and muslin, metallic, lurex cotton and wool threads, 50 x 50 cm (19.7 x 19.7 in), courtesy of the Artist and GALERIE FARAH FAKHRI. Photo by Hussein Makke.
OM: Growing up in Abidjan, Côte d'Ivoire, how did your upbringing and the rich cultural tapestry of your environment shape your artistic vision and thematic choices?
JC: Growing up in 1980s Côte d'Ivoire, we were cradled by peace, not just as a word, but as a way of being. It was everywhere, on TV, in daily life, until it became part of our DNA. I’m not only speaking of social peace, but inner peace: the freedom to be yourself. Especially for a woman — an African woman, a Black woman — who opens her arms to life, lets go of what she can’t control, and embraces what she can receive.
One of my works in the solo show at GALERIE FARAH FAKHRI in Abidjan [from May 16 to July 25] explores this deeply. It holds great spiritual meaning for me because I believe that’s what God asks of us: to let go, receive what is ours, and become who we are. That’s what my work is about.
Joana Choumali, ‘Va, vis, deviens!’ Serie Alba’hian, 2025, mixed media: Digital photograph printed on cotton canvas, manual collage, embroidery, painting, sheer fabric and muslin, metallic, lurex cotton and wool threads, 35 x 35 cm (13.8 x 13.8 in), courtesy of the artist and GALERIE FARAH FAKHRI. Photo by Hussein Makke.
OM: Your work often delves into themes of identity, memory, and resilience. Could you discuss the stories or experiences that inspire your creations and how you translate these narratives into visual art?
JC: When I create, I don’t decide what to make; it comes to me. I’ve done portraits that began as close-ups and evolved into panoramic landscapes. Each series brings something different. I can’t do several things at once; I need to go deep. As long as I feel it, I keep working. But when it stops, it stops. Even when I had requests for “Ça va aller,” I had moved on. I can’t keep working on something I no longer feel in my gut.
My work helps me understand why I exist. Then I share it, and a dialogue begins. But it’s meaningless if I’m not honest with myself, if I don’t create with integrity. It becomes a commercial act, and that’s not how I work. That’s why I go from one series to another. Sometimes, I’m working on something I won’t show for a while. It’s all instinctive, layer by layer. I share only when I’m ready.
Take “Alba’hian,” which will be shown in Abidjan in May. It began during early morning walks at 5:00 am, often crossing a bridge. I watched the city wake up — the sun, the clouds, the light — and it gave me strength during a difficult time. “Alba’hian,” started in Abidjan and grew outward, from there to the world.
Joana Choumali, ‘Your Hair Smells like Love and Sunshine,’ Serie Alba’hian, 2025, mixed media: Digital photograph printed on cotton canvas, manual collage, embroidery, painting, sheer fabric and muslin, metallic, lurex, cotton and wool threads, 35 x 35 cm (13.8 x 13.8 in), courtesy of the artist and GALERIE FARAH FAKHRI. Photo by Pimii Pango.
OM: How did showing at the 2017 Venice Biennale shape your artistic expression and connection with a global audience?
JC: I would keep creating even without exhibitions. But my work only truly comes alive through the viewer’s eyes. The final layer is the emotion and response of the person who sees it; whether they acquire it and live with it, or simply feel touched by it and carry that feeling with them. That’s when the piece is complete. Its energy and love go with the viewer.
I create to meet people, to meet myself, and then to meet others. The work becomes a bridge.
OM: Reflecting on your journey, how have the themes and techniques in your work evolved over the years, and what do you envision for the future of your artistic practice?
JC: I work instinctively. When I start a piece, I never know how it will end. I may have a general idea, but the piece often reveals things I didn’t expect, and that’s the greatest gift of this practice. I don’t always know when a work is finished. Sometimes I return to it, undo it, add more, even dismantle and remake it entirely. That, too, is part of the process.
The only programme in my work is that there isn’t one. I let inspiration carry me. Through it, I feel God’s presence, guiding and accompanying me. So I don’t worry about whether it’s evolution, change, or growth. The work leads me where I need to go. That’s what matters.
Joana Choumali, ‘If you want, we can catch the moon too,’ Serie Alba’hian, 2025 mixed media: Digital photograph printed on cotton canvas, manual collage, embroidery, painting, sheer fabric and muslin, metallic, lurex cotton and wool threads 35 x 35 cm (13.8 x 13.8), courtesy of the artist and GALERIE FARAH FAKHRI. Photo by Hussein Makke.
OM: How does the meditative act of hand stitching shape your creative flow and connect with your audience?
JC: For me, what matters most is how I feel while creating and how that opens a dialogue with others, without words. Art lets me connect with others, but above all, it helps me connect with myself, to know and understand myself better — and, if possible, others, too.
