Entering Cinga Samson's debut exhibition titled Ukuphuthelwa at White Cube felt like stepping into a dream. The South African artist's large oil paintings, displayed across two gallery floors, invite viewers into a realm that defies conventional understanding. The exhibition's title, a Xhosa term meaning "unable to sleep," intriguingly reframes sleeplessness as a state of heightened spiritual awareness rather than a condition to be treated.
After my initial visit, I delved into the exhibition catalog and researched Samson's background. I returned to the gallery, eager to see how the haunting qualities of his work resonated upon a second viewing. His paintings evoke historical scars, presenting an uncharted world that eludes comprehension, yet compels continued exploration.
Samson employs a limited yet striking color palette of dark grays, blues, and hints of cold white, meticulously crafting twilight scenes filled with figures engaged in unsettling rituals. His creative process involves photographing staged scenes, which then inform his drawings and ultimately his paintings. The choice to depict all figures with white pupils adds to the ethereal quality of his work, suggesting a liminal existence between life and death.
In the painting Ukuwelwa komda (2026), a ghostly figure rises from a chair, seemingly emerging from a skeleton, set against a backdrop of a draining concrete passageway. This composition, with figures directing attention toward the center, creates an atmosphere that feels both choreographed and surreal. While reminiscent of the staged photographs of Gregory Crewdson, Samson's paintings transcend the tangible, inviting viewers into an otherworldly experience.
The exhibition's first floor resonated with themes of resistance against colonial perceptions. Samson's spiritually attuned figures perceive the world with a clarity that remains inaccessible to outsiders, reinforcing a sense of separateness. This notion is further exemplified in the upstairs gallery, where Intsingiselo II (2026) presents a gathering of dogs, some lying down, others standing, with a human couple positioned at the edge of the scene. The low viewpoint and the white-pupiled dog emphasize the otherness of this world, where viewers are mere intruders in a closed narrative.
Cinga Samson: Ukuphuthelwa continues at White Cube (1002 Madison Avenue, Upper East Side, Manhattan) until April 18, organized by the gallery.
