Devastation Or Hope? Fatspatrol’s Black-and-White Figures Leave It Open

by Alexandra Mansilla

Devastation Or Hope? Fatspatrol’s Black-and-White Figures Leave It Open

9 Feb 2025

Photo: “Between Hope and Devastation” by Fatspatrol (House 196 by The Workshop DXB, Sikka)

At Sikka, inside House 196 by The Workshop DXB, curated by Ahmad Makary, there was a room dedicated to Hope and Devastation. Stepping inside felt like entering another world — one of stark black and white, inhabited by silent (or not?) figures.

Some had teardrops on their faces. But why? Were they crying out of sadness, or were they holding onto hope? Above, drops hung from the ceiling — were they raindrops or tears?

The room was its own universe, filled with symbols waiting to be deciphered. Now, this work is shifting to an entirely new setting — Crowd Test, on February 15 at Helipad (grab your tickets here). How will it transform in this different space?

With so many questions, we turned to the amazing creator behind this stunning work — Fatspatrol — to explain it all.

— Your installation is called “Between Hope and Devastation”. Ahmad Makary, the curator of House 196 by The Workshop Dxb, mentioned, “I spoke to each artist at length about the overarching subject and wanted to understand what phase they are in right now and what they aim to represent.” Would you say you are currently in that phase? Why did you choose to focus on hope and devastation?

— The world is in a really strained place at the moment and I found myself using these two words in conversations with people a lot. The news is devastating, we feel devastated but we must have hope, we must maintain hope. And so I found myself really contemplating the relationship and balance between the two. Where is hope in the face of devastation? And does hope exist without devastation? When there is so much devastation, is hope naive? Not to sound tragic, because the message is ultimately hopeful, but this is the balance and dance and dichotomy of human existence. So I guess I’m in a particularly existential place at the moment, yes!

— You described your work, writing: “And most importantly for me these days: how do we navigate our boundaries with the world outside ourselves (as we open and close the windows).” Why is this especially important to you now?

— I’m a relatively shy and reclusive person. My imagination is so vivid and active that stepping out into the world often requires real effort. But social interaction is essential — we need to feel connected to the world we are part of.

Again, I find myself torn: staying inside feels safe because the outside world holds chaos and devastation. BUT it is also where hope exists. Our interactions — love, passion, and engagement with others — give us something to believe in and, in turn, give us hope.

It is about negotiating boundaries — knowing when to close the windows and when to open them. The role of influence. These are lessons I have been learning in my personal life lately. This piece is a true reflection of where I am right now.

Photo: “Between Hope and Devastation” by Fatspatrol (House 196 by The Workshop DXB, Sikka)

— You mentioned that this experience was somewhat new and different for you. In what way? Could you elaborate?

— I have always been a very two-dimensional artist — I draw, I paint, and I have painted huge walls around the world. But over the past year, I have felt a strong urge to bring more three-dimensionality into my work. I took ceramics and pottery classes — anything that would push my brain to think differently. This installation is new in that sense — it is a drawing that occupies a three-dimensional space. It is immersive. And I’m happy with it as a starting point for what I hope will be more detailed, larger projects like this.

In my career overall, I’m really focused on pushing for voice — the power of an artist’s voice. The ability to speak through your own lens. When you do a lot of commercial work, that voice can sometimes get lost, buried under client agendas. And that is a problem because artists aren’t just people with technical skills — they have a unique way of seeing the world. And in the authenticity of their true voice is where magic lives.

So, this piece is really grounded in that belief. It is very true to my voice.

— What message do you aim to convey through your work?

— My non-commercial work is deeply personal — it stems from my own stories, reflections, challenges, and curiosities about the world. But in expressing these personal experiences, I hope they resonate on a universal level, allowing others to connect to them.

Over the past five years, my work under the umbrella of "The Humans" has focused on depicting aspects of people that exist beyond or before man-made categories. As a third-culture kid, I don’t want to centre my work on race, gender, belief systems, or my experience as an immigrant — these are divisions that have shaped history in ways I would rather not reinforce.

"The Humans" (2023) by Fatspatrol (Worth Gallery, Toronto, Ontario). Instagram: @fatspatrol

Instead, I believe in telling stories of resilience and triumph, fear and hope, vulnerability and dreams. These emotions make us uniquely individual, yet they are also what connects us all as humans.

— How many figures did you create for “Between Hope and Devastation”?

— There were five human figures in the space, one of which was painted on the wall. In the centre of the room, a small plant with two flowers stood.

Photo: “Between Hope and Devastation” by Fatspatrol (House 196 by The Workshop DXB, Sikka)

— They were exhibited at Sikka, House 196 by The Workshop DXB. Did you observe people’s reactions? How would you describe them?

— What thrilled me the most was seeing people open and close the windows. Every time I walked in, they were in a different configuration. It was such a simple invitation to interact with the piece, yet deeply symbolic, so I’m really glad it happened.

I have received incredibly positive feedback, with people sharing what the installation meant to them — someone even told me today that it was their favourite room at the festival!

I never expect people to feel exactly what I feel or see things from my perspective — we are all different. But if it sparks contemplation in them, that is a win.

— On February 15, the figures will move to a completely different setting — Helipad, where Crowd Test, a party, will take place. How will this shift affect them? Will they “behave” differently in this new space?

— I think it could be a really interesting experiment! At Sikka, the figures existed within a world I created — a space designed to serve a specific narrative. But with a change in environment, the narrative shifts.

If the figure, once gazing out a window, is suddenly placed in an entirely different context, it will tell a new story. The postures are ambiguous enough to take on fresh meanings, and I’m curious to see how that unfolds.

In a way, it is similar to the murals I paint and leave behind in different countries — they take on a life of their own.

by Alexandra Mansilla