As a third-culture kid with an unfixed identity, Fathima found her voice through art. In this Q&A, she shares the story behind her piece, the themes and thought processes that shaped it, and her broader philosophy on public art, creativity and finding your voice as an artist.
Tell us about yourself.
I’m a true third-culture kid: born to Indian expat parents living in the Middle East, a Canadian immigrant, a traveller. Having a really unfixed identity, I’ve found my own voice through art. I believe profoundly in art’s ability to move the world forward. I have a BA in studio art and culture, and an MA in sociology. I wrote my thesis on art in public spaces. I have a really keen interest in mark-making in ancient cultures — our innate inclination to depict, represent, express and generally make sense of the world around us through creativity.
I’ve been involved in urban art for the majority of my career, including 10 years running my own curation agency in Dubai. I try to have a really balanced career in the sense that I make art for my wellness, for corporate clients, for outreach projects and awareness, for education and so on. I briefly studied art therapy as well.
My visual style is really a stream-of-consciousness medley of a lot of influences throughout my entire life: Indian textiles and handicrafts, comic books, graffiti, Arabic architecture and lettering, henna, Indian folk art, mythology, a teenage interest in abstract expressionism and much more. I’ve been lucky to travel and paint murals for the last 10 years, and I care very much about representing the communities I belong to.
In terms of subject matter, I’ve always had a flare for truth and poetry. For telling stories that are honest and, although personal, can resonate universally. My most recent body of work, The Humans, is about exploring alternative ways of depicting people outside of socially prescribed categories (that create so much division). Aspects of the human and existential experience, like hope and resilience and fear and wonder. Celebrating difference as it should be whilst keeping these ultimately human qualities in mind.
How do you approach a new mural project? What’s your creative process like?
It depends on the nature of the project — how much community engagement is involved, where it’s going to be, etc. Considering the location is important in public work because you want to create points of connection with the community that will live with it. It’s not just a one-time view; it becomes a place, a landmark, and you want it to speak to the people who live with it. For this particular project, I was given a lot of freedom to imagine and interpret, which I really appreciated. I think creative space and freedom is really important when it comes to murals so artists aren’t just painting predictable billboards but telling stories and creating pieces that vibrate. I did a site visit to the University in November 2023 to narrow down a few sites and eventually settled on this wall. During site visits, you look at vantage points. See how accessible the site will be. How a wall sits in its environment. Points of interaction. Logistical challenges. And so on.
We then had a theme brainstorm earlier this year to ensure the messaging was relevant.
After that, I kind of loosen up the whole process and sit down with all of that information in my head, sketch very organically and see what comes out. And these little narratives develop in that process. I try to be very intentional in the choices I make in designs — i.e., colours, shapes, images all have some meaning or symbolism behind them.
Sometimes you nail it on the first go; sometimes it takes weeks and several changes.
Can you explain the main themes or messages behind the piece?
In our initial brainstorm, we came up with themes like independence, hopes and dreams, self-awareness, transformation, individuality, etc. From there, I sort of wove this story about the quest for meaning. Thinking back to my own experience of being in university and what that chapter of development was about in my life. And the larger, universal human quest for meaning that this chapter is generally a part of. Quite existential in that sense. But there are a lot of little stories in this piece. Curiosity, intrigue and wonder in these starry-eyed, dreamy characters with their heads in the clouds. Wings for freedom of thought, growth, expression. Having the world and future in your hands (quite literally with phones these days!) and the power and responsibility that come with that. Layers of identity. Community. The importance of honouring the natural world. Water and earth and growth. Fire as in power. A tunnel that takes you to new ways of thinking. A multidimensional person. A grounding in where we are in the world (the moose, the goose). These are just some of the little stories that came up while I was sketching.
“What I’m excited about with this project is the intention to use public art not just to adorn or market but really as a place-making tool.”
Fathima Mohiuddin
What role do you think public art plays in community identity and cohesion?
What I’m excited about with this project is the intention to use public art not just to adorn or market but really as a place-making tool. Nicola Russo and I had many conversations around this, and I know this was his larger vision in initiating this project. Public art changes a space into a place. It creates a moment of interaction, and when you see it for the first time, that interaction is unexpected and magical. Because art, if successful, is stimulating and provokes curiosity and wonder. I think it can also give you a sense of safety sometimes because you build a relationship with it day after day. It speaks to you. It also shifts power. We don’t feel a sense of ownership over public space. We don’t dictate what it looks like or what it says most of the time. And I think inserting this human element of art in public space can change that. Partly in the fact of the human artist who made the work (especially with a hand-painted mural), and partly in how it speaks to you and provokes a human response. It’s an anchor, so to speak.
How can emerging artists find their own voice and style?
I think it’s really important to tap into your “why.” Why you make art. What it means to you. What it does for you. And make it for those reasons first. For example, my style started taking form in my teenage years when it became an important tool for addressing my anxiety, mental health challenges, angst, etc. I’ve also done a lot of outreach work that reminds you how powerful art can be in mobilizing people, creating connections, empowering, reinforcing humanity — all that feel-good stuff. Purpose.
When I’ve spoken to students in the past, I’ve always said, “Let it be the tree that falls in the forest.” If nobody ever saw it, never said it was good, never paid for it, never validated it, would you do it anyway? Make art from that place. Where it’s for you first. From an innate inclination. Because then, you’re tapping into a more instinctual place — i.e., your voice — and that, in turn, in the commercial and professional world is powerful and unique.
I actually have a ritual of spending Sundays in art play. Not making art for any purpose — in fact, I usually throw it out at the end of the day. I play with materials I don’t usually use. I make a mess. But it keeps you connected to that instinct. And it exercises and stretches the creative tool.
And then I wake up Monday morning back in pro mode.
How do you hope viewers will interact with or respond to this mural?
I think my favourite reactions to my pieces are those where people are so sure of and assertive in what they see in it. Especially children. For example, with the mural I painted before this one, someone came up to me and said, “I love the loon! It makes me think of xyz from my childhood.” I didn’t put a loon in the piece (that I know of). But who am I to tell them what to see? I love it when people have their own relationship and connection with an artwork and ultimately have their own story about what it means to them.
This mural is interesting because it forces you to look up. And then, there’s this starry-eyed figure at the top right, looking up in wonder or in a dream or in curiosity, which I hope will somehow mimic the viewer looking up. Other than that, it’s a combination of reading about what I intended and going, “Ah I see!” and finding your own meaning and story in it.
And I hope it becomes a place, which I know is the University’s intention as well in commissioning the piece. Like an “Oh, let’s go sit on the benches by the mural” type of thing. It has a monumental quality that way.
I love the idea that an artwork will live in a space and make friends and hear stories and have a life of its own for years to come. Because when it’s complete, it belongs to the community.