The home I have never had

The home I have never had marks Amoako Boafo’s fourth solo exhibition with Mariane Ibrahim. Conceived as a domestic interior, the exhibition brings together new paintings incorporating embroidery, alongside earlier works dating back to 2016. Rather than following a chronology, their arrangement reflects an intimate constellation of relationships: friends, confidants, and the artist himself. Together, they form a portrait of a chosen community, one in which affection and belonging become the very foundations of the home Boafo imagines.

The artist has developed an eloquent and immediately recognizable pictorial vocabulary. Layered on backgrounds of broad brushstrokes of solid color, the skin is reinforced through a far more physical process. In his most recent works, his tactile approach to painting extends to embroidery, which he incorporates directly into the canvas to evoke the intricate lace of bridal gowns. This introduces another dimension of craftmanship to his practice, bringing the meticulous gestures of needlework into dialogue with the physical immediacy of his painting.

In recent years, this vocabulary has expanded beyond the canvas. Dark wood, textiles, patterned papers, and furniture extend the world of his subjects into the space around them. In The home I have never had, this relationship takes on an architectural dimension: the gallery becomes an enveloping interior that, rather than reproducing the artist’s own home, imagines a warm and emotionally resonant one. The title thus contains a paradox: this is the home Boafo has never had and yet is able to build and carry with him, an intimate space open to others.

In the main gallery, two newlywed couples, a bride, and a group of friends seem to come together as part of the same celebration. The characters in The couple I and The couple II are placed against green backgrounds, while White suits brings together five figures dressed in white. The green that recurs behind them evokes a garden, a shared space where friends gather.

On the second floor, the exhibition moves symbolically from a shared space and into the bedroom. The collective scale of the gathering gives way to another form of intimacy. Boafo appears lying in bed in Self portrait and almost disappears beneath the patterned sheets of Self portrait at peace. Yet the bedroom is more than a space of retreat, becoming a refuge and an observatory of the world. The reclining figures and portraits of women introduce a sensual dimension, a space where contemplation and desire coexist. The artist is both observer and observed, inviting us into his private world while quietly returning our gaze.

Self-portraiture has accompanied the artist for years. Recalling his arrival in Vienna, Boafo has explained that he began painting himself more frequently because he felt he needed to know himself before he could offer much to others. Yet this identification does not end with his own image: “When I think of other characters, I think, ‘This could be me.’” Perhaps this is one of the keys to The home I have never had. The home Boafo imagines is defined not by ownership, but by recognition: by the possibility of seeing oneself in those around us and, with them, building a place to belong.