If one were to chronicle his creative journey, it’s tempting to start at PAQ. In galvanising a pre-Tik-Tok
entranced youth from London to LA, the online web series sought to, and succeeded in, bringing all strata of a
seemingly gatekept fashion sphere into our living rooms. I’d go further back, though. As I chat to the deeply
introspective young man before me, a picture begins to form of Shaq, or his artistic journey, as a collection of
tales. He’s a natural orator. Stories of his hugely inspirational Mum, or a particularly impassioned lecturer at
Westminster Uni, or the proximity of his friends’ studios to his own all feed into his work.
Since PAQ, Shaq’s spun a web of work that bridges the spaces between art, fashion and music. You need only
look at his recent collaboration with Prada fragrances, or his credits on a shoot for Pa Salieu to understand the
assignment here. To label Shaq as something singular would be to do him, and his work, a disservice; he
evades description in the most beautiful and enigmatic sense. His demeanour is warm, his words are poetic
and his curiosity is always at the helm.
So he’s more than meets the eye, in the most literal sense. The ear is equally as important. Shaq explains that
he constructs his creative practice as a metaphorical jar. His paintings may be golf balls, filling this jar. One may
look at said jar and suggest that it’s full. But wait! His poetry may be sand, which he adds to the jar, filling the
small spaces around the golf balls. One, again, may say that it’s full. They’d be wrong! His film and fashion
work may be water which he adds to the jar, finally sealing up all spaces that were once open. These spaces,
Shaq suggests, are room for miscommunication. In such a varied harvest, those who don’t like apples instead
can enjoy pears. In viewing all the forms of Shaq’s work in tandem, we see true inclusivity, and a drive for
connection with the viewer/ reader/ listener.
Purchase Issue X for the full interview below:
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