‘I believed I was one of the cool kids’: Ingrid Persaud on her journey from legal academic to artist to novelist
I emerged from those intense months of immersion in art and its history convinced that this was my calling. That crazy decision made me quit my job. It took me back to university, only I was now a Goldsmiths College art undergrad. This was followed by a masters in fine art at Central Saint Martins in London. Oh, and somewhere along the line we had twin baby boys.
This was the mid-2000s; Barbados’s art landscape has since been radically transformed, but when I arrived I didn’t find an obvious tribe. Artists were mainly producing large, colourful narrative paintings. I’m a conceptual artist with zero painting skills. Most of my time is spent on the idea. Typical of my work is a piece inspired by the capture of a sniper who plagued Washington DC. After the suspect was caught, the police spokesperson said: “We were looking for a white man in a white van.
My residency exhibition consisted of a makeshift apothecary, filled with the jars of collected dust, framed etchings of bookworm drawings, an installation of fabricated archives and a sound piece listing donations made to the museum over the years. A good 50 friends and museum well-wishers showed up. I was not asked back.