From Waste to Life is the foundational philosophy that shapes Olanrewaju Tejuoso’s artistic practice. Rooted in environmental consciousness and material transformation, the project interrogates society’s perception of value — questioning what we discard, why we discard it, and who decides what is worthless.

Working primarily with found and abandoned materials — metal scraps, discarded plastics, worn fabrics, and industrial remnants — Tejuoso recontextualises objects that have been stripped of social relevance. Through processes of deconstruction, reconstruction, layering, and sculptural manipulation, these materials are not merely recycled; they are reimagined.

The works produced under From Waste to Life do not simply “become useful” again. Instead, they gain renewed agency. They shift from being environmental burdens to vessels of narrative, identity, and social commentary. Each piece carries traces of its former existence while inhabiting a new aesthetic and conceptual space.

At its core, the project challenges linear consumption culture and proposes transformation as resistance. In Tejuoso’s hands, waste becomes testimony — evidence of human activity, economic systems, and environmental neglect — but also proof of possibility. What society abandons, art can redeem.

Olanrewaju Tejuoso participated in the inaugural edition of the First Environmental Art Biennale in Russia — a landmark international exhibition dedicated to ecological discourse through contemporary art. He was one of only three artists selected from Africa, situating his practice within a global environmental conversation.

Responding to the biennale’s theme, “Skin of the Earth,” Tejuoso presented a body of work titled Wildfire.

The concept of “Skin” suggests fragility, sensitivity, and exposure — the Earth as a living organism marked by human intervention. In Wildfire, Tejuoso explored the visible and invisible scars inflicted on the planet: deforestation, industrial burnouts, uncontrolled consumption, and ecological violence. Using reclaimed and discarded materials, he constructed forms that evoke charred surfaces, ruptured landscapes, and textures reminiscent of burnt terrain.

Rather than presenting destruction as a final state, Wildfire confronts the paradox of fire — both destructive and regenerative. Just as wildfires devastate ecosystems yet sometimes trigger renewal, the work reflects on cycles of damage and rebirth within environmental systems and human societies.

Through material transformation, Tejuoso positions waste not only as residue of environmental crisis but also as a medium for reflection and recovery. The work becomes both warning and possibility — a surface marked by trauma, yet still capable of renewal.

Material Memoryis a concept-driven project developed during Olanrewaju Tejuoso’s residency in the United States. Rooted in his ongoing interest in transformation and social consciousness, the project explores how societies remember loss — and how materials themselves become vessels of memory.

Responding to recurring acts of violence and social instability, Tejuoso reflected on the public rituals that follow tragedy. In many communities, candles and flowers are placed at sites of death — temporary gestures of mourning that attempt to hold grief in physical form. These fragile materials become symbolic carriers of love, absence, and remembrance.

ThroughMaterial Memory, Tejuoso interrogates this pattern: Why do we often memorialise loss only after violence occurs? What does it mean that our symbols of remembrance are delicate, fleeting, and perishable? Are we preserving memory — or merely performing grief?

During the same residency, Tejuoso performedRed Couple, a live performance work addressing rising relational instability and declining marital commitment in contemporary society. Together,Material MemoryandRed Coupleextend his practice beyond environmental concerns into the social and psychological terrain of contemporary life.

Aroko Green Museum marks Olanrewaju Tejuoso’s first independent spatial intervention in Abeokuta — and a decisive turning point in his practice.

Confronted with the limitations of conventional gallery systems — spaces often unsuited to the scale, material complexity, and environmental sensitivity of his works — Tejuoso reimagined the very idea of exhibition. Rather than waiting for institutional validation, he created his own platform.

After identifying an unused building in the Ojere area of Abeokuta, he made enquiries and secured permission to activate the space. What began as a practical necessity evolved into a curatorial experiment: a museum born from urgency, autonomy, and environmental consciousness.

Aroko Green Museum became the first dedicated site where audiences could encounter his works in their intended spatial and conceptual context. The space allowed his large-scale and materially unconventional pieces to breathe — free from the constraints of white-cube gallery expectations.

More than a solution to storage, Aroko Green Museum represents a decentralised model of artistic infrastructure. It challenges the dependency on traditional art institutions and proposes a locally rooted, self-determined exhibition culture.

By transforming an overlooked structure into a site of creative engagement, Tejuoso extended his “From Waste to Life” philosophy beyond objects to architecture itself — repurposing space as an act of cultural regeneration.

Eruku Lálá—a Yoruba phrase meaning“a lot of dust”—was Olanrewaju Tejuoso’s first performance staged in Abeokuta. The work emerged directly from his return to the city at a time of intense urban reconstruction.

During this period, Abeokuta had effectively become a vast construction site. Road expansion projects led to the demolition of numerous buildings along major routes, and thick clouds of dust became a defining feature of daily life. The performance responded to this physical and psychological atmosphere—where progress, displacement, renewal, and loss coexisted in the same space.

Rather than documenting the transformation in a conventional manner, Tejuoso embodied it.Eruku Láláfunctioned as both witness and critique, reflecting on what it means for a city to reinvent itself through destruction. The dust became metaphor: for change, for erasure, for development, and for the invisible costs carried by residents.

Staged in Abeokuta during the administration of Ibikunle Amosun, the performance situates itself within a specific historical moment in the city’s urban evolution.

Eruku Lálástands as an early declaration of Tejuoso’s commitment to site-responsive practice—using performance to engage directly with the social, political, and environmental realities of his immediate context.

Eje Ohun Wàrà (Milk and Blood) is a powerful performance by Lanre Tejuoso confronting the recurring farmer–herder conflicts in Benue State and other parts of Nigeria. Through symbolism and embodied expression, the work questions the human cost of coexistence.

At the centre of the performance is a piercing question:Are communities expected to continue accommodating violence and paying with their blood simply to preserve access to wàrà — the traditional cheese made from cow’s milk?

Using wàrà as both material and metaphor, Tejuoso exposes the tension between survival, culture, economy, and security. The performance calls for urgent, practical, and humane solutions to a crisis that has displaced families, destroyed livelihoods, and deepened national division.

This work was staged in Ibadan as part of the Art is Everywhere Project, transforming public space into a site of reflection and resistance.

Watch the full performance to experience the message, the symbolism, and the urgent questions it raises.

TheLeah Sharibuproject was conceived as a performative and visual response to the 2018 Dapchi school abduction and its national implications. Rather than producing a conventional portrait or documentary representation, Tejuoso approached the subject through symbolic embodiment.

In this body of work, the artist appeared wearing a niqab and wire-framed glasses—an intentional visual strategy designed to provoke attention and discomfort. The gesture was not imitation but confrontation: a way of forcing viewers to reckon with the layers of identity, religion, vulnerability, and visibility embedded in the abduction narrative.

The works under this project—including the piece exhibited in Ijegba, the hometown of Wole Soyinka—extend beyond individual tragedy. They interrogate memory, national conscience, and the politics of silence surrounding school kidnappings in Nigeria.

Through material choice, costume, and site-specific presentation, Tejuoso reframed the abduction not as distant news, but as an unresolved historical wound demanding sustained public attention.

Iso Ẹni extends Olanrewaju Tejuoso’s From Waste to Life philosophy into a more intimate and culturally rooted terrain.

Drawing from Yoruba thought, the project reflects on the relationship between the human being (ẹni) and their condition of rest — physical, emotional, and spiritual. In Yoruba domestic culture, the mat serves as a humble yet profound object. It is a site of rest, gathering, meditation, birth, and even death. It holds the body and witnesses life’s transitions.

In Iso Ẹni, Tejuoso incorporates woven mats as both material and metaphor. The mat becomes a symbolic ground — a surface where the human condition unfolds. By integrating discarded or aged materials into these compositions, he merges environmental transformation with cultural memory.

Here, “rest” is not inactivity. It becomes reflection. Renewal. Realignment.

The project suggests that just as society discards materials, it also neglects values, relationships, and inner stillness. Through the presence of the mat — an object deeply embedded in Yoruba life — Tejuoso re-centres his practice within indigenous philosophy while distinguishing it from purely industrial or Western material traditions.

OṢUKA began as an experimental project during Olanrewaju Tejuoso’s time in the United States, where he started exploring repetition, scale, and multiplicity as conceptual tools.

At its core, OṢUKA investigates the tension between individuality and mass production. The project centres around the creation of a singular form — the OṢUKA unit — which the artist envisioned multiplying into millions.

Upon returning to Nigeria, Tejuoso expanded the ambition of the project. He proposed the production of 10 million OṢUKA — a number that shifts the work from object-making to systemic thinking. The repetition transforms the artwork into a field, a movement, a presence that exceeds singular authorship.

Due to spatial constraints, the form was miniaturised. What began as a limitation evolved into a conceptual strategy: reducing scale allowed for greater proliferation. The micro-OṢUKA became a metaphor for how small elements, when multiplied, generate collective impact.

In this way, OṢUKA challenges traditional expectations of monumental sculpture. Instead of one large dominating form, the project embraces accumulation — many small presences forming a larger narrative about density, community, labour, and persistence.

PAKO IJEBU marks a significant conceptual evolution in Olanrewaju Tejuoso’s practice.

The project began during his time in Nsukka, where he was mentored by El Anatsui. In reviewing Tejuoso’s catalogue, Anatsui challenged him to look inward — to identify the craft traditions of his own people. Tejuoso referenced Adire, the Yoruba indigo-dyed textile tradition known for its symbolic motifs and resist-dye techniques.

The question that followed was critical:How can Adire move beyond fabric and enter contemporary environmental sculpture?

Tejuoso began searching for materials capable of absorbing dye while retaining structural integrity. He observed local carpenters producing pako — wood shavings typically discarded as waste. Recognising both their environmental relevance and their linear, strand-like quality, he collected the shavings and began experimenting.

Initially, the material was chaotic. By extracting and arranging the wooden strands horizontally and vertically, he discovered emergent patterns that echoed the rhythmic geometry of Adire motifs. The surface began to resemble woven textile structures, yet remained sculptural and materially raw.

He then dyed the arranged pako using indigo-based processes, allowing the material to absorb colour in unpredictable ways. The result was a hybrid form — neither textile nor traditional sculpture — but an environmental reinterpretation of Yoruba visual language.

PAKO IJEBU was later exhibited internationally, including in Dakar and Cameroon. Works from this body of research are held in collections such as the Yemisi Shyllon Museum of Art and the Black Art Heritage Museum.

The project represents more than material experimentation. It is a negotiation between identity, environment, and contemporary art discourse. By transforming discarded wood shavings into indigo-dyed sculptural surfaces, Tejuoso anchored his environmental practice within Yoruba cultural memory.

Olanrewaju Tejuoso’s practice extends into education and community engagement through various workshops. These spaces serve as platforms for skill-sharing, environmental advocacy, and collaborative material exploration.