The hand stays raised. The angel has already arrived. The inheritance is the moment between.
Acquired
The Black Widow
She is two selves now. The woman she was, and the woman who remains.
Acquired
Black Panther
The body that refuses to be tamed. The black that was never decoration.
Acquired
Storm
She does not wait for the weather. She is the weather.
Acquired
The Three Yoruba Brothers
Three brothers. One inheritance. The light arranges itself around them like a verdict.
Acquired
Red Man
He has seen the whole city. Now the city looks back at him.
Acquired
The Graduate
On enquiry
The Wedding Day
On enquiry
The Last Dance
On enquiry
Cinderella
On enquiry
Father Time
On enquiry
Sara
On enquiry
The Fishermen
On enquiry
The Intermission
The pause between the ceremony and the feast. The air, held.
On enquiry
Lagos Man
His crowned death beside him, his living heart held in the open. He carries it himself.
On enquiry
New Money
No gold, no chieftaincy, no one else in the frame. The bleeding is his own.
On enquiry
Old Money
The cap is a title. The gold is a receipt. Somebody paid for all of this.
On enquiry
Tòlání
A woman adorned in Aṣò ẹbí. In the folds of her Gele, a calm, assured regality.
Acquired
Halimat
The daughter of the middle. The one who fights to be seen. Her gaze always outwards.
$1,240
Ada
The first daughter. The one who shoulders the weight, but whose tears won't show.
$958
Àríkè
The last daughter. She shines and glows, stepping in the footsteps of her sisters, her head held high.
$1,662
The Complete Auntys
Ada. Halimat. Àríkè. All three sisters, together.
$3,860
The Last Dance
The music has not stopped. She has simply heard the silence underneath it.
$124
The Red Man
His first breakthrough. The painting that left the studio and became the world's.
Acquired
Catalogue
To scale
Abraham & Isaac
Medium
Mixed media on canvas
Size
44 × 58 in
Year
2025
Edition
Original · 1 of 1
Signature mark
What the father gives the son. What the son does not refuse.
Provenance
Studio of Anthony Azekwoh · Lagos · 2025
Details
Two figures on the mountain. The knife held, the boy waiting, the angel coming through the upper register of the canvas with no hurry. The painting refuses the easy violence of the scene. It paints, instead, the long second of trust. A father who would do it. A son who knows.
