Inside the Quiet of Art Curation: Interview With Catherine Ajueyishi, Curator at Odama Gallery

The first conversation I had with Catherine Ajueyishi revealed the intentionality, intricacy and expertise that come along with art curation.

“Curation is 20% inspiration and 80% heavy lifting” 

Spectating from the sidelines, it appears almost incredibly easy to accurately project the works of a curator. From an outsider perspective, it is merely a three-side no-brainer work that focuses on on-time outreach to artists, gathering and collections of sellable artworks as sellable commodities and the actual commercial sales of these works at events, fairs and shows. But an inward peek through the worldview of Catherine Ajueyishi, an intricately specific, enthusiastic curator at Odama Gallery, reshapes that misconception.

The first conversation I had with Catherine Ajueyishi revealed the intentionality, intricacy and expertise that come along with curation. Like the artist, the curator’s presence, feel and perception are sheerly important and inseparable from the work—either solo or group shows. She drew me, without any conservativeness, into the beginning of her journey as a curator; her perspective about art and the rhythmic presence it converses with; and the reactive art world Odama Gallery is committed to building, as well as projecting.

Ajueyishi reveals what it is like to be an art curator—a connection between the artists and the collectors. She perceives art beyond aesthetics but as a language of emotion, a space for healing, and a quiet but powerful conversation between the artist and the soul. Her perspective as a curator challenges the conventional ideas of what art is and should be.

In this interview, Catherine Ajueyishi offers more than just an insight into her work. She gives a glimpse into a mind space that presents art as something to observe and experience.

PP: Veering a bit from what I’ve read and watched online, what is your background story as a person?

CA: At my core, I am a walking work of art who happened to find her voice through the visual language of Art. My background is rooted in a deep curiosity for the human condition—”why we feel, how we heal, and what we leave behind.” Growing up, I was always the one trying to find the "soul" in the mundane. I didn’t just want to see the world; I wanted to understand its textures. This led me into the creative industry not as a traditional painter, but an architect of experiences. I am a person who believes in the "stir"—the moment where an idea becomes an emotion and then a reality. 

PP: What interests you most about being an art curator, and why Odama Gallery?

CA: What interests me most is the "translation." An artist speaks in strokes and colors; a collector listens with their heart. The curator is the bridge between those two worlds. I love the psychological weight of placement—how a painting can change meaning simply by the light it sits in or the piece it sits next to.

I chose Odama Gallery because of its vision of "Art as a Sanctuary”. It provides the freedom to experiment with exhibitions like "Of Earth & Spirit," where we treat art as spiritual medicine rather than just commercial goods.

PP: What do you particularly focus on during the curation process? Art style, artist, or the narrative?

CA: For me, the Narrative is the North Star. However, it’s a trinity. The artist provides the soul, the style provides the body, but the narrative provides the "home." During a curation process, I look for the "unspoken thread" that connects different artists. In a group show, I’m not looking for pieces that look alike; I’m looking for pieces that whisper to each other. The goal is for the visitor to walk through the gallery and feel like they are reading a book, not just looking at a catalog.

PP: Do you think art still plays a pivotal role in telling visual stories compared to music and film?

CA: Absolutely. While music and film are immersive, they are "guided" experiences—the director tells you where to look; the songwriter tells you what to feel. Art is different. It is a "silent conversation." In a world obsessed with fast aesthetics and "Instagrammable" moments, a physical art piece demands that you slow down. It’s a mirror. If you feel a detachment from the meaning, it’s usually because you haven't stood still long enough. Art is the only medium that waits for you to find yourself within it.

PP: What is the behind-the-scenes process for setting up these exhibitions like "Only Human"?

CA: It is a beautiful chaos. It starts with months of "studio stalking" spending time with the artists, understanding their fears and triumphs. For "Only Human" with Hauwa Maigari, it involved deep psychological dives into vulnerability. Then comes the technical grit: music curation, lighting adjustments, carpentry, measurements, drilling, logistics and installations. There were late nights of moving frames and early mornings of adjusting wall texts. Curation is 20% inspiration and 80% heavy lifting, both mentally and physically.

PP: What determines the success of an exhibition? Solo vs. Group?

CA: Success is measured by "Resonance." Did the guests leave differently than they arrived? Commercially, sales are a factor, but culturally, the impact is the true metric.

A solo show is an intimate biography; we do it when an artist has a singular, powerful story that needs almost no interruption. A group show is a community dialogue; we do it when we want to explore a theme from multiple perspectives. The factors are both structural (market demand and funding) and spiritual (is the artist ready to stand alone?).

PP: What do curators struggle with? What do outsiders misconceive?

CA: Curators struggle most with "The Kill" having to leave out a beautiful piece because it doesn't fit the narrative flow. It’s heartbreaking to tell an artist "not this one". They often don’t get it though. 

Outsiders often misconceive curation as just "hanging pictures." They don't see the invisible lines of energy we draw between pieces. They think it’s interior decoration, but it’s actually theater. We are stage-managing emotions.

PP: Why are galleries still relevant in the age of digital media?

CA: Digital media is a "look," but a gallery is a "feel." You cannot smell the oil paint on a screen; you cannot feel the scale of a 6-foot canvas on a smartphone. Galleries are relevant because we are the "Curatorial Seal of Approval." We provide the context, we preserve physical history, and the community.

Regarding the future, I don’t think the model will die, but it will evolve. We will see more "Phygital" experiences where the digital world and physical sanctuary of the gallery merge to give the collector a 360-degree relationship with the artist and the art, just like we had AI movie by Nirvan during “Of Earth & Spirit” exhibition.

PP: What should African artists prioritize to gain recognition?

CA: Authenticity over Trends. There is a temptation to paint "what sells" or what "looks African" to a Western eye. I believe artists should prioritize their personal truth. Recognition follows the "Obsessively Unique." Also, documentation! Artists must learn to tell the story behind the work as well as they paint the work itself.

PP: What is the contemporary African art community doing differently than earlier generations?

CA: This generation is "Unapologetic." Earlier generations often felt they had to explain or defend their Africanness. Today’s artists, curators, and gallerists are simply living it. We are utilizing technology, global networking, and interdisciplinary collaborations (art meeting tech, meeting fashion) to create a self-sustaining ecosystem that doesn't rely solely on outside validation.

PP: What principle/motto do you hold onto? Any motivation?

CA: My motto is: "Stir the Spirit." Art that moves the soul connects us all.

Professionally, I am motivated by the artists themselves. Their bravery to put their vulnerabilities on a wall for the world to judge is the ultimate motivation. It helps me as a curator turn the gallery into a "sanctuary" that keeps me grounded and driven.

PP: What are you currently learning or unlearning? Anything you’d do differently?

CA: I am unlearning the need for perfection. Art is messy, and sometimes the "flaws" in an exhibition are where the most magic happens. I am learning the art of patience—that a career in curation is a marathon, not a sprint—in essence, patience.

At the beginning, I wish I had realized sooner that my "voice" as a curator was just as important as the artist's. I spent too long trying to be invisible; now I know that my perspective is an important part of the art.

PP: Is there any personal project you would love to work on in the future?

CA: I am deeply interested in "Art for Healing via Colors." I want to curate a project specifically designed for mental health—a sensory, immersive exhibition in a non-traditional space where the art is the primary therapist. I want to continue pushing the boundaries of what a "Gallery" can be for the African child.

Interview by Adedeji Adebusuyi