Sarah-Mecca Abdourahman is a multidisciplinary artist whose work explores memory, identity, and the complexities of home. Winner of the 2023/24 SSNAP Joan McConnell Award for her piece ‘Sambuza After School’, Abdourahman draws from family archives and childhood memories to reflect on diasporic life with depth and tenderness.

Her practice—rooted in storytelling, mixed media, and cultural reclamation—offers a powerful lens into intergenerational experiences and the search for belonging. Through her multifaceted practice, Abdourahman continues to illuminate the intricate tapestry of diasporic life, offering insights that resonate on both personal and collective levels.

We caught up with Sarah to learn more about her creative process and what inspires her work.

What concepts or themes are currently at the heart of your practice, and how are you approaching them in your latest work?

At the heart of my practice has been an exploration of the bittersweet. I’m interested in how to depict the complexities of memory and nostalgia, joy and grief. I’ve also been thinking about Christina Sharpe’s concept of “wake work” (In The Wake: On Blackness and Being, 2016) and how to approach intergenerational healing towards my diasporic experiences. Recognizing that the aftermath of settler colonialism can create enduring “wakes” that require collective care. And aiming to offer space for remembering, mourning, and imagining alternative futures. Like my painting, Sambuza After School, I’m still exploring diasporic longing for home, which I’ve been referring to as the “second chase.” Inspired by Warsan Shire’s Poem Home from the line “No one would leave home unless home chased you” which recounts the “chasing” of diasporic communities (Bless the Daughter Raised by a Voice in Her Head: Poems, 2022).In comparing the “chase” to the experience of a nightmare, I developed a fascination with the dual nature of the bedroom. Bedrooms serve as both havens of rest and the site of nightmares. I see the bedroom as a symbol of tension between comfort and distress, mirroring the haunting/healing conditions of the “second chase.” My recent work now reimagines the bedroom by painting on blankets, conceptualizing the canvas stretcher as a bed frame, attaching furniture legs, and exploring installation by using casts of my sleeping body.

‘Restless Dreams’, 2024, 84” x 53”, Pile of clothes, belt, bib, eye mask, gesso and oil on plaster cloth, blanket and pillows

Can you walk us through your typical process—from idea to execution?

My typical process usually starts with entertaining ideas during a dream or even visions throughout the day. I write them all down and begin with the ones that excite me the most. Not all my ideas come to me organically, but the ones that do are my favourite. A more sculptural piece starts with building the structure without planning the painting. For example, ‘Restless Dreams’ began with the idea of having a sleeping figure on a bed surrounded by clothes, so I quickly started sourcing materials to cast my body in plaster gauze. The next stage after building my painting supports can include many layers of gesso. A painting like ‘I Show Not Your Face but Your Heart’s Desire’ requires many layers of gesso to harden the surface. At the painting stage, I’ll sometimes have a vague idea of colours I’m planning to use and will go from there; these days, I’m attracted to pinks, greens, and oranges. Often, I’ll go through my family albums and create a digital composition of my paintings. This will function as a sketch; sometimes, I’ll print elements of the collage and sew them onto the painting.

‘Restless Dreams’ (detail shot), 2024, 84” x 53”, Pile of clothes, belt, bib, eye mask, gesso and oil on plaster cloth, blanket and pillows

Are there particular materials, techniques, or formats you’re drawn to right now? What’s fueling those choices?

Right now, I’m most drawn to my method of painting on the blanket, where I include the folds and wrinkles in the piece. It allows for a more intuitive painting process where I can embrace the abstractions in the irregular forms. I have found that this method allows me to include canvas amongst the shapes subtly. The canvas mimics some of the blanket folds and solves many of the technical difficulties of oil painting on a blanket–I can choose which painted elements should be on the blanket vs. canvas. Including the canvas this way also maintains the illusion of the entire painting being on a blanket.I’m excited to keep developing this technique and expanding the scale. I recently completed a large-scale painting for Wassaic Project’s summer show with this technique. It takes over the entire wall space, almost functioning as a mural.

‘Mourning Thoughts’, 2025, 18” x 11” x 4” , Oil on cabinet, with fabric and print on fleece and ‘Mourning Thoughts’ (installation shot), 2025, 18” x 11” x 4”, Oil on cabinet, with fabric, print on fleece and yarn on wall

How did winning the SSNAP prize impact your practice—whether creatively, professionally, or personally?

The SSNAP prize was most impactful for the financial security it provided. When I won, I had just started my year of residency travels. The first destination was in Germany for three months, then in NYC for another three months, followed by three more shorter-term residencies throughout the summer in the US. The SSNAP prize and other grants allowed me to travel for an entire year as a full-time artist. I’m not sure if I would have been able to participate in half of my residencies if it weren’t for SSNAP, as I had to consider residency, living, travel and even material costs. It allowed me to focus solely on the art-making process, make great connections and learn more about creating with intention.

Since finishing my most recent residency in August of last year, I’ve developed a new body of work on view at Warren G. Flowers Gallery titled’ Memories We Carry, Stories We Heal’. This series reflects all the lessons I learned during my residencies.

Even today, when I think about winning the prize, it still feels like a miracle sometimes because it came at an unexpected time when I needed it most!

‘I Show Not Your Face but Your Heart’s Desire’, 2025, 61” x 21” x 23”, Oil on canvas and blanket, with print on paper and fleece

Have there been any unexpected opportunities or challenges that have shaped your journey since SSNAP?

Since SSNAP, many challenges have shaped my journey. Since I had a nomadic practice for a year across multiple residencies, the size, cost, and weight of my materials have been something I’ve had to consider. I began painting on blankets right after SSNAP while I was still in Germany as a convenient and cheap material that could be easily shipped.

At the time, I was painting on unstretched canvas for the same reasons but was unsatisfied. I took a week’s vacation from my residency in Germany and visited London for the first time. The work of Kenyan born British artist Michael Armitage at the Tate had influence me, in particular his paintings on lubugo (ficus tree bark cloth), a material that directly references East Africa. Encountering his piece, ‘The Promised Land’ (2019), prompted me to explore surfaces beyond the canvas. This led to my exploration of painting on blankets.

It evolved into a symbol that merges content with form and allows me to explore the safety/terror dichotomy of the bedroom. Blankets signify care and protection, and yet my intuitive painting process is one of destruction, utilizing the ephemeral qualities and stains of thinned-out oil paint to make the blankets appear worn out. This creates the effect of something that is well worn, akin to a child’s cherished possession.

When I returned to Germany, I purchased some blankets from the first thrift store I walked into and absolutely fell in love with the sculptural material. Now, my creative process will always involve sourcing materials at second-hand stores and including the tags in my works. Working with these found objects in my practice allows me to connect to memory and recreate my nostalgic memories. With a lot of the blankets not being my own, these paintings become pseudo memories.

I’m very grateful for this magical moment that brought me to painting with blankets, and I look forward to how my material investigations will grow in the future.

 

Photo Credit: Wassaic Project