The illusion of the Hybrid Gaze

The temptation of the Perfect Picture

In my ongoing series of blogs about viewing art by Black artist, I initially looked for a foothold in grand theories to understand what ‘hybrid viewing’ truly means. My search began with the essay “Bye-Bye, Babar (Or: “What is an Afropolitan?)” by Taiye Selasi.  As I described in my previous blog ‘The Harsh Reality: Why “Hybrid Viewing” Is Almost Impossible to Achieve’, Selasi paints a glamorous picture of a new generation of successful, worldly Africans.

That text sparked a fierce debate. Thinkers like Achille Mbembe wrote that moving freely between cultures is a complex intellectual process. But it was Binyavanga Wainaina who truly woke me up. He puts his finger on the sore spot: the Western tendency to interpret and consume all of Africa as a manageable, exotic picture. Wainaina based his criticism on Pan-Africanism. According to this philosophy — the global movement fighting for African pride, unity, and self-determination — African identity cannot be caught in elite Western frameworks. It arises from the bottom up, from the grassroots, taking a different shape every time.

The Afropolitan Must Go

That discussion among thinkers received a sharp and timely follow-up, which I encountered through the criticism of Marta Tveit. She is a Norwegian-Kenyan cultural scientist and researcher at the University of Oslo, specializing in African studies and global media. Alongside her academic work, she translates theory into practice as a freelance journalist and author, focusing on decolonization and cultural identity.

In her powerful essay “The Afropolitan Must Go” , she extends Wainaina’s line of thought directly to our modern Western consumer culture. She simply refuses to be placed in such a super-modern box; she writes that she feels no ‘spiritual drum’ beating inside her and she is quite ambivalent toward jazz. With this, she holds a razor-sharp mirror up to people like me — white, Western, a baby boomer. Because how eagerly do we embrace the modern, glamorous ‘Afropolitan’ style, simply because it feels comfortable!

Success on Own Terms

I found another perspective in the work of Dr. Enrica Picarelli, an Italian cultural researcher and fashion sociologist connected to the University of Bologna. She specializes in postcolonial studies and founded the platform Afrosartorialism, through which she explores how young African makers tell their own visual stories via fashion and street culture.

Picarelli refuses to think in black-and-white terms. According to her, there does not have to be a contradiction when an important political or cultural narrative is packaged within a successful fashion brand. For young designers and artists, that market is precisely a way to claim their own space and be taken seriously. Selling streetwear or artworks grants these creators financial independence and a global stage. Her analysis demonstrates that commercial success does not have to compromise the creator’s own identity or their deeper message.

What about the Netherlands?
This principle — that commercial success does not have to compromise the deeper message — becomes even more concrete in the work of Dutch anthropologist Marleen de Witte. She conducted research into Afro-Dutch youth and their engagement with style and cultural heritage. She makes it clear that Marta Tveit’s warning about consumption (that we should not treat Black culture merely as a fashionable lifestyle brand) plays out a bit differently in Dutch practice.

What might seem like ‘commercial consumption’ to outsiders is, according to De Witte, a way for these Black creators in the Netherlands to be valued on their own terms. In a society that likes to call itself ‘colorblind’, these young people use their international, proud style to claim space within a predominantly white culture. Their message is clear: “We belong here, we are successful, and we define our own identity.”

Patta and Daily Paper: Impact
Two perfect examples of what Marleen de Witte describes are the Amsterdam streetwear brands Patta and Daily Paper. Patta was founded by Edson Sabajo and Guillaume ‘Gee’ Schmidt, who both have Surinamese roots. What started for them as importing exclusive sneakers grew into a global phenomenon that collaborates with giants like Nike.

From the outside, this success might seem like purely capitalist marketing success, but anyone who looks deeper will see the value and recognition that De Witte is referring to. For both founders, everything revolves around culture and building a community, not around marketing. In a predominantly white fashion world, Patta showcases a realistic, diverse street scene and offers a home to young people who do not feel heard elsewhere.

That this approach breaks through traditional frameworks is evident from the recognition the brand is now receiving. In the fashion exhibition Reflections on Fashion at the Kunstmuseum Den Haag, Patta’s work shines among historical fashion names.

Their influence now even reaches the world stage: Patta designed the official Dutch World Cup shirt for the 2026 football world championship. This shows that a streetwear brand can simultaneously be displayed in a museum, featured at a World Cup, and still simply maintain its credibility on the street.

Daily Paper

The exact same global impact is visible with Daily Paper. This brand is the work of Hussein Suleiman, Abderrahmane Trabsini, and Jefferson Osei, who all three have African roots. With designs inspired by African iconography, such as the Maasai shield, they conquered the world from Amsterdam-West. Today, Western superstars like Beyoncé and Jay-Z wear their clothes. Looking through the lens of Marta Tveit’s critique, one might wonder here as well: isn’t the Western culture industry reducing African identity to a consumable luxury product?

However, Daily Paper’s approach perfectly illustrates what Marleen de Witte describes. The founders consciously use their commercial success to make an impact. They fund football pitches in Ghana and support local talent to promote a powerful, authentic image of African culture. Here, commerce is not the final destination, but a means to command recognition on their own terms and remain independent.

From Creators to Collectors
The discussion surrounding identity becomes even more complex when the focus shifts from the creators to Dutch art collectors. A striking example is the highly discussed exhibition Africa Supernova at Kunsthal KAdE. It showcased the massive private collection of Carla and Pieter Schulting — two white, Western collectors who, in record time, bought up 170 artworks by 154 contemporary African artists.

This style of collecting holds up a mirror to art enthusiasts. Is this genuine engagement, or is it the ultimate form of Western cultural consumption that Marta Tveit warns against? After all, rapidly snapping up a trendy, colorful collection that is highly marketable can look dangerously like using someone else’s identity to boost one’s own status.

Yet, here too, the reality is more nuanced. Even if this buying frenzy feels contradictory, purchasing these works does allow young African creators to achieve financial independence and secure a massive global stage.

Paradoxically, the market supports them, enabling them to be valued on their own terms (as Enrica Picarelli describes).

My Conclusion: Room for Complexity

Through all these thinkers and examples, I have come to see how complex the discussion about Black identity and art truly is. As a white viewer, I initially looked for a clear framework to understand this art and culture. But the studies show that there is no straightforward answer at all; the thinkers and makers do not always agree among themselves. Black identity cannot be caught in a single definition. It expresses itself in countless different ways — in fashion, in streetwear, in music, in literature and in visual art.

I do not have to forcefully cling to a single truth as an outsider.The real gain of this search is that I have accepted that all those different, sometimes contradictory forms are allowed to exist at the same time.

Johanna

 P.S. Does art always have to fulfill a social or moral duty to be legitimate, or can it simply be an autonomous form? In my next blog, I’m letting my critical instincts run free and searching for the answer outside established frameworks — on the streets. Will you join me again?