Meet the Artist: Prince Gyasi’s Rise to Global Art Icon

Internationally acclaimed Ghanaian visual artist Prince Gyasi is redefining what contemporary photography can look and feel like. Known for his bold use of color, surreal composition, and emotionally charged storytelling, Gyasi has emerged as a global force—bridging fine art, fashion, and social impact. From creating vivid iPhone-shot visuals to becoming the first Black artist to shoot the iconic Pirelli Calendar, Gyasi continues to break boundaries and amplify underrepresented voices.

In conversation with Whitewall, he opens up about his creative journey, working with Pharrell Williams on the “FEMMES” exhibition at Perrotin, and how he uses his platform to inspire the next generation of African artists. Gyasi also shares insight into his experiences with synesthesia, delves into the future of AI in art, and imparts his vision for a design and innovation hub in Jamestown, Ghana. Read more for a powerful look inside the mind of an artist whose work is as limitless as his message.

WW: Your use of bold colors and surreal composition has become your signature. How do you see your practice evolving as your visibility grows?

PRINCE GYASI: In the beginning, my focus was mainly on compositions. I have OCD, so I automatically can see if it’s symmetrical, if a side is slanted, or the subject is not positioned in the right place. As I continued practicing and evolving, I started developing more skills. I went to art school, where I studied sculpture and woodwork. That experience helped me design my own sets, making them more complex as the narratives I explore became more intricate. As I grow, I’m finding that I need more detailed, well-designed sets to communicate increasingly complex ideas. You can see the set designs are more in your face rather than in the background.

Exhibiting in “FEMMES,” Curated by Pharrell at Perrotin, Paris 

WW: You were part of “FEMMES,” a group show curated by Pharrell at Perotin in Paris. How does your work engage with the themes of the exhibit, and what does it mean to be included?

PG: It means a lot because I’ve always honored women through my work. I was raised by my mom, who has been one of the biggest inspirations in my life. I saw her get sick yet still go to work, making sure I had access to education and food. Being part of a celebration like this feels like my efforts are being recognized and bearing fruit. It’s an honor to be included among such incredible artists. I feel humbled that Pharrell saw my work and decided to include it in this project. It’s a huge boost to keep pushing forward and not become complacent. It motivates me to continue exploring sensitive subjects related to women.

“I feel humbled that Pharrell saw my work and decided to include it in this project,”

Prince Gyasi 

WW: How did you meet Pharrell? Was it through this exhibit or did you know him before?

PG: Funny enough, I’ve wanted to meet Pharrell since 2018 or 2019. I actually prepared a project thinking, If I meet Pharrell, this is the project I’ll show him. I had already done the renders and designs. I told myself that in God’s time, I would meet him. I didn’t rush it, and working towards that goal motivated me to push harder. When I met him, it felt like the right time, and it was a mutual respect. Even though he’s in a much higher position and I have a lot to learn from him, it felt like the perfect timing.

WW: Can you describe the works you showed at the exhibit?

PG: I’m showing three pieces. One is called Innocent Desire, which explores the innocence of women who sometimes self-sabotage, thinking they’re not worthy or capable of achieving what they want. This piece is special to me because it’s the first time I’ve done something at night, with a more subdued color palette, but still incorporating the elements I typically use. A metaphor in the piece is the banyan flower, which represents going through tough challenges and still maintaining your inner beauty and joy, despite the struggles. In the piece, two women are smiling and running while the flower burns, symbolizing the beauty that can come from pain.

The second piece is called The Process. It’s about retaining your individuality and personality when making a big, life-changing decision. The fence in the piece represents a pivotal moment, like when we were kids, climbing a fence to see something we thought was exciting. It’s a metaphor for an opportunity on the other side of the fence that could change our mood or our life. I chose ballerinas for this piece because of their discipline, and you can see one of the ballerinas looking at you, challenging you to take that journey and make that decision.

The third piece is 6 a.m., inspired by my childhood. I often saw women, including my mother, waking up early in the morning, working hard to make sure we had food and an education. This piece honors their sacrifices, which can never be repaid, especially in terms of the immense effort they put into raising us.

WW: Did Pharrell contact you for this exhibit after you created those works, or were they already done when he reached out?

PG: It’s funny because I was already working on these pieces when the invitation came. It just felt like perfect timing, like destiny. The pieces were already in progress, so when Pharrell reached out, I just had to finish them. It felt like everything lined up perfectly.

Prince Gyasi’s Upcoming Thematic Projects

WW: Storytelling has always been central to your work, especially in highlighting narratives from Ghana. What themes are you exploring in your upcoming projects?

PG: Pharrell and I share something in common—synesthesia. I have grapheme synesthesia, where I see colors associated with numbers, days of the week, and even people’s names. For instance, Wednesday is blue, Thursday is gray, and Friday is red. Pharrell experiences something similar but with music, where he sees musical notes in color. In 2018 or 2019, I had a project idea that could help people understand how synesthesia works. I want to explore it through art and music. If the opportunity arises, I’d love to collaborate with Pharrell on something immersive that bridges our shared experience of synesthesia.

“If the opportunity arises, I’d love to collaborate with Pharrell on something that bridges our shared experience of synesthesia,”

Prince Gyasi

WW: Have you spoken about this with other people?

PG: Yes, I had an interview last year with an Australian scientist from Oxford who was researching synesthesia. There’s actually an association for it, and I didn’t know that before. The interview is available on YouTube, and it was an amazing conversation. I’m also excited to create products inspired by this condition, like sneakers, animations, and more.

WW: Do you want to talk more about the themes or ideas behind your work?

PG: To go a bit deeper, if you look at all three works I’m presenting, they’re really about maintaining discipline—regardless of the outcome. Most people only stick to a routine when they’re seeing good results, but when things are going well, they often become complacent and stop applying the same focus that got them there.

So The Process is about that discipline. The Process II takes it further—it’s about making complex decisions and staying centered through them. And then 4 a.m. is about movement—everyone going in different directions, but when the sun rises, unity is necessary. That moment of coming together is what 6 a.m. captures. There’s another piece not shown called Arrival II.

Navigating a Contemporary Artistic Career 

WW: With all these new opportunities also come new expectations. How are you navigating this moment in your career?

PG: I’m really about patience. Last year, I spent four months just creating—and Paul [my manager] was going crazy saying, “You need to get back to your primary work!” But I was in a phase of designing other things—watches, sneakers, even developing new concepts. I was deep in conversation and experimentation.

This industry is tough. After the collaboration I did during Men’s Fashion Week with Balmain, I realized I had to push harder. My mom is a fashion designer in Ghana, so I’ve always had a strong love for fashion and design. I’ve had so many ideas, but unless people know you can do those things, they won’t open the door for you.

Sometimes people have opportunities available, but because they don’t know you have that capability, they don’t think to bring you in. I started preparing—creating designs and concepts so that when those doors open, I’m ready. That’s the phase I’m in now—being prepared ahead of time.

I’m also working under NDA on a few things—there might be an animation film in the works, possibly even a video game. I’m having conversations right now. I love childlike concepts—playgrounds, animation, that whole world.

“I started preparing—creating designs and concepts so that when those doors open, I’m ready,”

Prince Gyasi 

WW: Sounds like you have a lot to discuss with Pharrell on that front.

PG: Definitely. Funny enough, I’m in talks with someone he’s worked with many times in animation.

WW: Your work often bridges fine art, fashion, and social impact. Are there any collaborations or upcoming projects you’re excited about? 

PG: I’ve been having conversations with someone who’s a vice president of a huge company—we’ve been talking since 2020, actually. The first call was with Paul, but now I have a personal relationship with that person. I’m trying to create a design hub. I don’t mind sharing that because there might be an investor out there. It’s something I spoke to Virgil Abloh about before he passed. The idea is to create a hub for kids in Jamestown. It’s an old district in Ghana that was heavily affected by slavery, and because of that history, education became a challenge. People there, instead of learning how to apply knowledge, mainly learned survival—mostly through fishing.

“It’s something I spoke to Virgil Abloh about before he passed. The idea is to create a hub for kids in Jamestown,”

Prince Gyasi 

I want to help change that. Some of the kids are in school, but when you grow up in a place where most people around you aren’t in school, it becomes a pattern—a kind of muscle memory. You start thinking, “They’re free, I’m not,” just because they’re not in school and you are. But it should be the other way around. I’m trying to create a system—a design hub that teaches programming, music, art, design, construction, assemblage. Because these kids have so much raw talent. Some can make cars out of milk tins and add batteries and moving parts. But to them, it’s just fun. They don’t even realize that’s engineering.

I want to explore those skills. Because if I had that opportunity to go to school and even choose art and literature as a main course for me to study, they should be able to have the same equal opportunity and fairness to be able to make decisions. We never know—we could be having the next PlayStation, video game console, or a different entity that could be an advancement in art and tech and architecture very soon. I think it’s about not putting everybody into one field. Some of them can go into fishing and create a whole factory. But they still have to go through training to involve that sector. But others can also go into engineering, others can go into sports. And some of these companies out here can benefit from their discipline.

I think in 2023, Ghana was number one when it comes to hardworking people. It’s on the list. Some West African countries are. So imagine you develop these people into amazing engineers, amazing architects, footballers, amazing basketball players, amazing designers, amazing artists. We’re gonna have, like, you know, a whole workload, and companies will even be like, “Oh, we’re sorry, we don’t have any space anymore,” because there’s too many amazing people.

I feel there should be equal opportunities there, because they’re sending people out to meet with certain companies—and honestly, those people often are less qualified than the ones back home. They’re in those positions simply because the people I’m talking about haven’t had the opportunity to be seen. We’ve already seen it in the NBA—so many African basketball players are coming in. So I’m just praying it happens. Hopefully, in 10 or 15 years, we’ll be able to achieve something real. That’s the only thing that will make me happy. It’s not about wealth or riches. I think wealth and riches are just a means—to give me the opportunity to invest back into that side of things.

Prince Gyasi Uplifts the Next Generation of Young African Artists 

WW: With your growing platform, how do you hope to uplift the next generation of young African artists?

PG: I think I’ve already started inspiring people. If you look at the scene from 2015 to now, you’ll see a lot of artists trying to copy my style, my aesthetic. When I got out of high school—before I went to university for IT—everyone was painting. And I thought, “I’m not going to do the same thing. I’m not going to do sculpture. I want to explore something different.” At that time, I didn’t know anything about photography. But I chose a medium that people didn’t really respect in that part of the world—and I brought in my painting skills and what I’d learned in art. I created a bridge that was unique to me. And I made it easy for people to use whatever they had at the time—because that’s how I started, with just an iPhone.

“I think I’ve already started inspiring people,”

Prince Gyasi 

And I saw a lot of people trying to rip that. Even now, there are so many people replicating it. Some come up to me and say, “You inspire me.” Some say, “We never knew you,” but I know they did. And to me, it’s an honor. That’s all I ever wanted—to inspire the youth, to help them see that they don’t need fancy equipment or resources to start creating, to start expressing themselves. You know, these days everyone’s making music on Logic or Fruity Loops. Before, you needed a lot of equipment. Still, I know and respect the traditional side of things—and that’s why I went back to using certain materials. The traditional approach sparks something different from the easier, digital route. Use the easy tools if that’s what you have right now, but don’t forget how important the traditional methods are. I want people to find that balance.

So doing that—bridging both worlds—is an honor. And I think the rise of AI will also help creators from Africa grow even more. I love the idea of AI, but I still think people should approach it with care and balance. Because AI can only do so much—you still need the human brain. AI is in everything. It’s been around for years, since 2000. It’s just more popular now because there are so many new avenues for it. But it’s still about the human brain. If you’re not building your knowledge or your passion, you’ll still fall short—with AI or without it.

The Artist’s Limitless Work and Nature 

WW: I feel lucky to own one of your works, Limitless.

PG: I love Limitless. That’s actually one of my nicknames—it was given to me by friends when I lived in New York. 

WW: Can you describe that piece a little?

PG: Limitless is beyond the piece called Arrival. But for me, Limitless is about a free range of ideas and being able to execute them—without putting limits on yourself or self-sabotaging what you’re capable of. When I was creating that piece, I was thinking about how to inspire young people to strive for greatness—beyond what they can already imagine. Like, maybe your goal is to buy a house. But why not think, “I want to build a company, and through that, I can buy houses and even become a real estate developer.”

“Limitless is about a free range of ideas and being able to execute them—without putting limits on yourself or self-sabotaging,”

Prince Gyasi 

I want people to expand the way they think about their goals—to have a long-term vision. And to feel free. Because heaven is free—it’s not for sale. It starts here, in your memory, in your mind. And it grows when you start developing the parts of yourself that can become a vehicle toward that destination. It’s about knowing there is no limit. And that’s why the piece is self-explanatory. Even if it’s just the paper plane—I use that to symbolize childlike wonder. When you throw it, you don’t know how far it’ll go. But you throw it anyway. And I want people to believe that, even if what you have right now is just a paper plane, it can evolve into something else. Something bigger. Something that takes you even further. And you shouldn’t feel insecure when it’s time to act on your ideas.

It’s a balance—a mix of different sectors and different influences. I was really inspired by the movie too, because I liked how secure the character felt once he had the chance to fully express himself. I’m not promoting drug use. He took a pill and suddenly had access to everything—he could answer any question, execute anything. That’s the feeling I want people to understand. Before I met Paul, I was already doing the art thing—but I was also thinking, “How can I be seen?” But then I started to get a clearer picture, like, “Oh, you could actually become something.” And once I saw that, I didn’t care about the pain I had to go through, or what I needed to do to get there.

I used to go to church on Sundays, then head out to this big field—a salt flat where Ghana gets a lot of its salt, right in Accra. I’d go there and let the rain beat down on me while I created the art I wanted to create. I’d come home soaking wet, but I didn’t care. Even my mom would ask, “What are you doing?” But I didn’t care, because my eyes were focused beyond what people normally see. I was trying to expand my vision and perspective. If it’s raining but you need to get home, you don’t care if the road is wet—you just want to get there. But the beauty of it is, you never really know when it will happen.

When I met Paul, he told me, “We’re going to take it step by step.” And that’s what I liked. But even then, with the step-by-step approach, you don’t know when the results will come. It could be at step five—but you still have to take every step. If you look at the pieces I just created for the Perrotin project with Pharrell, it’s the same thing—it’s about repeating the discipline and not stopping. I could have easily said, “Okay, last year I made this impact, I’m done with art.” But no—what am I talking about? You never know what else you can create. I didn’t even know I could make another piece that would be just as beautiful. That’s how it is—you just never know.

I always tell people—if God showed you your final destination, you’d become lazy. That’s why He has to take you through the journey step by step. Each step teaches you something new that builds your core.

It’s like when I started working out. I didn’t know I could do certain exercises that would build my obliques. Now, if I do a minute of those exercises, I barely feel anything. So I push to do two minutes. I try new things to feel that burn again—because I’ve mastered the basics. And then I discover, “Oh, I can do this. I can plank for five minutes. I can do that.” That excitement of realizing you can develop, try, and create new things—that’s what matters most. It’s about unlocking the rest—removing the mental barriers people put on themselves because of how they were educated, or where they grew up. There’s definitely a political layer to it, too.

I remember once I was having dinner with a really powerful family—I won’t mention names. I was just sitting there thinking, “Wow, I’m actually here.” And I remembered walking across that salt field, the same time Paul was trying to convince me to join his gallery and do a show. I went from walking in that field to sitting at that table. And I thought, “Imagine if I had been small-minded, or if I hadn’t expanded my thinking.” Even now, sitting at that table, I can still expand. I could become so powerful that I’m equal with them—and then extend that power to others. Being the first Black person to do the Pirelli calendar—that’s huge. At the time, I didn’t even fully understand how important it was for us.

Same thing with being the first to do so many other things—but always pushing with Black talent alongside me. I remember Marco was part of it too. It’s about community, but also about belief. And people think consistency is easy, but it’s not. It’s actually very hard—very, very hard. Because there’s always that fear, what if people get tired of this? So you’ve got to keep adding flavor. There’s a thin line, but you have to walk it.