Seth Pimentel, known by his moniker African Ginger, is a Johannesburg-based artist born in 1995. Primarily using digital platforms, Pimentel’s style incorporates painterly forms and textures, merging fine art sensibilities with cool, contemporary illustration. His hip eye has meant that Pimentel has collaborated with major brands like Netflix, Converse, Redbull, Hennessey and Adobe. After some time, BubblegumClub had the opportunity to catch up with the wildly successful artist about his creative practice and the influences behind his work.
Thembeka Heidi Sincuba: What are the first memories you have of making art?
Seth Pimentel: I remember it was when 9/11 happened. The next day at school they told us to draw how we felt about it because it was all over the news. It was everywhere. I remember I drew this really terrible version of these houses that ended up looking like people, with planes flying over them. The houses were super funny. But it was—at the time, I thought it was such a terrible drawing. I hated it so much. But my grade teacher really, really liked it. She gave me a gold star. I think from that moment, I realized, wow, this is what I like.
So, I think from that age—from then—I just had this inclination toward making art. I drew a lot in primary school, from grade one all the way to grades five, six, and seven. Then I got into the National School of the Arts (NSA), where I really focused on art. But I did ceramics there. So, while drawing was a big thing, I started working more with 3D design. I was making bowls, tables, pottery, and jewellery. I was just experimenting with different forms. For me, that was like an introduction to being multifaceted in making art. And that’s where it started.
THS: And did you grow up in an environment where the idea of making pictures was, like, if you said that’s what you wanted to pursue, your family would have been supportive?
SP: I mean, it’s kind of a 50/50 situation. At the time, my mom and dad just thought I was the kid who liked to draw. My dad wasn’t too supportive of it, and neither were my sister and brother. But my mom saw something different. She was like, “No, this is more than just drawing.” She could see the passion in me. She was actually the one who brought me the application form for college and helped me fill it out. She even took me to my interview and everything. Now, as an adult, my family is so supportive of me. But I think my mom was the initial investor.
THS: How did going to NSA influence the way you approached producing work? It’s quite a serious thing to go to a high school focused on the arts. How do you think that shaped the way you see your practice?
SP: Honestly, the structuring there was unlike anything else. And I’m not trying to sound biased, but I’d share experiences with friends from other schools. For them, art seemed more like an internal dialogue.
If you studied visual arts in high school elsewhere, it was often about expressing what you felt—making personal, emotional rationales. But at NSA, we were producing work on two levels. We were creating not just as self-expression but with a design-oriented focus. We worked within the context of art as a business. Whether it was ceramics or other pieces, it wasn’t based solely on emotion—it was grounded in research, references, and influences.
We studied movements like Art Nouveau, Art Deco, and Postmodernism. We went deep into understanding different art periods. There was so much structure. Even now, I still hear my high school teachers’ voices in my head, reminding me, “Don’t drag your feet—put in the work.”
By the time I got to university, following briefs and completing projects was second nature. Starting on professional-level briefs at such a young age made the transition seamless. That’s why I find it straightforward when clients or employers give me clear instructions. I need them to communicate what they want. I’m not someone who can just ‘do me’ without direction.
THS: How do you think these different disciplines—like ceramics, industrial design, and then, of course, at Open Window Institute where you studied game design and film—contribute to the work you’re doing now?
SP: I mean, it’s all just visual communication. It’s all storytelling. With ceramics, I understand one medium deeply, and in game design, I work within another. Together, they form a kind of dance, integrating different thought processes. I don’t see it as a linear process. If I want to produce a painting, I can incorporate different mediums or draw on conversations from various movements that inspire me. For example, I think about the influence of someone like Carol Boyes within ceramics and industrial design. It’s a kind of ecosystem for me. I have multiple spaces to draw inspiration from, and I don’t feel confined to one medium or perspective. It’s like having a palette of experiences to create with, shaping the way I approach art.
THS: How do sports and street culture come into that process? Is it something ingrained in who you are, or is it more of a mission or vision you have?
SP: It’s definitely ingrained in who I am. I think it’s also about the experiences I had, and just growing up in that period, as Braamfontein was becoming a hub for creatives, the introduction of so many elements of street style and street culture really influenced me. From the skateboarding scene to how skateboarding is so interconnected with many facets of hip-hop—it all came together in high school for me. There are so many elements within that culture, and for me, it felt natural.
THS: Yeah, and obviously, when it comes to not only Braamfontein but also Joburg as a whole—and the various subcultures emerging—it’s always about different people contributing their voices to shape the city. So, how do you see your influence, the mark you’re continuously making on the city? How is the city influencing you, and how are you influencing it?
SP: I feel fired up about it because I know I’m not yet where I want to be. I do feel like I have a role within the creative community, though. I see that I inspire a lot of younger artists, and I’m grateful for that. But I still feel so young myself, with so much more to say. I think a lot of us are still pretty young—we’re not even in our prime. I feel like we’re still in the infancy of our careers. That’s why I think it’s so important to keep working together and focusing on our growth. I’m grateful for the appreciation and love I’ve received so far. But in paving the way for myself, I feel like I’m also helping create space for other artists. I think I need 30 or 40 more years to really look back and give a solid answer about my impact.
THS: Modesty is a virtue, but, if you look at your collaborations, for example, with brands like Netflix or Adobe—these are really, really big deals. A lot of artists, especially in South Africa, aren’t necessarily in a position to work with such brands. How do you think those collaborations play into your practice?
SP: I think those collaborations really give the South African creative community—especially the Johannesburg community—a stronger voice. They allow more international clients to develop an interest in spaces on this side, which creates more opportunities for other artists to get involved in projects as well. It’s a positive thing. I think we just need to keep consistently producing work that goes beyond global standards while staying as authentic as we can. I see it as something that strengthens us as a collective.
THS: And speaking of global standards, I wonder if you’ve ever faced this misconception about what traditional African art is versus what it’s like to be a contemporary artist or to use digital media. Do you ever feel a sort of tension there?
SP: I mean, I think there’s definitely a preconceived notion when it comes to contemporary African art, especially in the context of how it’s perceived by the West. In Africa, we have nuance because we’re engaging with these conversations or really experiencing contemporary African works every day—through architecture, music, and so many different facets, you know? But I think, when it comes to international standards or the international sector, there’s this preconceived notion that it’s still infantile. There’s actually a quote someone said that really sticks with me a lot: If a European artist makes something, it’s called design. When an African artist makes something it’s called crafts.
There’s no sense of understanding the African lexicon. But we’re shifting the narrative on a larger scale. You can see it in the work—how artists reimagine traditional dishes or create designs that reshape what is considered African. This creates a distinct and evolving African aesthetic. And I think that’s important. We need to elevate these artists and establish spaces where their work can be exhibited globally. It’s essential to show the world that Africa isn’t confined to outdated stereotypes of painted huts and simplistic imagery. Instead, we’re having nuanced, intelligent conversations about design and artistic innovation.
THS: Why the focus on portraiture?
SP: I’m heavily inspired by actual living people, you know, like, people I see on social media. Yeah, those conversations and those people. I’m not necessarily inspired by nature but by the nuanced conversation of the individual.
THS: So these are people that are in your community or people that you know?
SP: Well, it’s a combination of people that I know and people I’ve reached out to. I mean, a lot of the references I try to find, the ones I’ve painted or illustrated, I will try to find the photographer and reach out to them on social media, ask them for permission if I could use their work. A lot of them will get back to me, so I just use the work. I’m trying to create my own interpretation. I’m not trying to replicate or copy their photography or their likeness.
THS: And then there’s also the theme of mental health, self-acceptance, or self-love. Is that shaped by your personal experience?
SP: I think in my earlier works, that was a very strong theme. I do try to express my anguish, my pain, and stuff. I use my work as a tool to express that and to try and normalise or de-stigmatise the conversation around mental illness. And I think as time’s gone on, my career has grown, and I’ve made a bit of money, I’ve been able to take care of myself. It’s not as big of an element anymore in my work, but it’s still a conversation I have, and I’m grateful for it. In my newer works, I try to focus more on the internal dialogues of what it means to be a person in the context of society. My second exhibition, titled Why So Blue, Brown Boy? was about the intersection of conversations on masculinity within the context of the coloured community. At the same time, it addressed discussions about mental health.
THS: What would you say if you were speaking directly to young artists who look up to you?
SP: I’d say, just be consistent and true to yourself. Don’t let anyone try to change you. Grow with your words, be kind, and be mindful. But most importantly, just be you.
With upcoming solo exhibitions, including a major show generating significant anticipation, Pimentel’s star continues to rise. As one of the bonafide cool kids of this city, he is poised to continue gaining attention globally on top of the stellar reputation he has already amassed by being featured in major publications like VISI Magazine, Adobe Create and prestigious art fairs like Art Basel Miami and FNB Art Joburg. As the themes in his work continue to evolve, the local scene is blessed with an illuminating luminary to help warm the hearth.
