History of Art Equality, Diversity and Inclusion Student Journalists, 2025-26

Contents:

• Profile: Danielle Martynkina
• Talking portraits:Review of Anessa Dawoojee’s March of the Hummingbirds at the Saatchi Gallery
• Profile: Mayuko Yamaguchi
• Review of Ainu Stories – Virtual Exhibition in Japan House London
• Profile: Ariel Yuan
• Interview: Women in the Art field

Profile: Danielle Martynkina

Hello! My name is Danielle. I am a second-year BA History of Art single honours student and an art enthusiast who enjoys learning, discussing, analysing, and practising art.

Originally from Russia, my early years were shaped by attending art schools, which not only sparked my interest in art but also provided me with the technical foundation to understand the nuances of artistic creation. At thirteen, I moved to London, allowing the city’s profound histories, varicoloured architecture, museums, and galleries to enhance my interest in art and the story it tells.

Living between two distinct cultures has shaped my perspective on the philosophy of acculturation and cultural continuity. Especially in a multicultural hub like London, I have come to view art not as a static tradition but as a dynamic and collaborative process. This awareness has taught me the importance of identifying points of cultural exchange to fully appreciate art in its broader, global context as a reflection of its time, society, and culture.

Furthermore, I strongly believe in supporting non-Western icons and aesthetics in art. For far too long, institutions of power have dictated what is recognised as art, who is allowed to create it, and what messages are shared through it. Through my work, I aim to contribute to balancing gender, racial, and national representation in the contemporary artistic field and uncovering the voices that have been historically marginalised.

As a student journalist, I am eager to use my voice to uncover and share stories that challenge conventions, celebrate diversity, and foster dialogue about the intersection of art, culture, and inclusion.
 

Talking portraits: Review of Anessa Dawoojee’s March of the Hummingbirds at the Saatchi Gallery

Aneesa Dawoojee’s March of the Hummingbirds is an evocative exploration of resilience, culture, and the interconnectedness of multicultural identities. The exhibition, presented across four series—WGLA (Windrush General Legacy Association), Notting Hill Carnival, In Between the Palm Trees, and the most recent Cutlass and Cane - invites viewers to step into intimate worlds where stories of family, migration, adaptation, gender, and celebration unfold. Dawoojee, an award-winning social-documentary photographer, brings a deeply personal perspective to her work, shaped by her Trinidadian and Mauritian heritage and her life in South London.

The first section of the exhibition, WGLA, centres on the members of the Windrush Generation Legacy Association, an organization founded in 2019 to honour the contributions of Caribbean people in the UK. Dawoojee’s photographs in this section are both personal and profound, capturing the essence of individuals who represent an enduring legacy of resilience and cultural pride. These portraits are deeply sensual, each carefully composed to reflect the uniqueness of the subject. 

Some portraits adopt a formal tone, with the subjects dressed in their Sunday best, gazing thoughtfully into the lens, while others are more intimate, showcasing moments of joy and laughter. Close-ups of hands adorned with intricate jewellery—a detail that feels almost tactile—speak volumes about tradition, identity, and individuality. Each image is accompanied by a name and a carefully written tag that reveals the subject’s story, often highlighting the perilous journeys of immigration by boat and the complexities of forging a new life in a foreign land.

One striking photograph features a woman named Carol, seated elegantly on a red sofa. Her vibrant red attire and determined gaze exude confidence, while her delicate gold chain, inscribed with her name, adds a layer of personal connection. Her story, detailed in the accompanying tag, reveals her mixed heritage—her grandmother of Hindu origin and her grandfather Presbyterian. Yet, as Carol herself reflects, “At the end of the day, we celebrated, whether it was Eid, Diwali, or Easter.” Nearby, a black-and-white photograph of her parents offers a glimpse into her familial roots, while another tag delves into the significance of jewellery in her family. Carol speaks of the "bangle legacy," an Indian tradition of passing down jewellery through generations, symbolizing the enduring bond between women in her lineage.

Dawoojee’s time spent with the WGLA community shines through in these works. She describes the members as "aunties" who have guided her with their warmth, wisdom, and care. This closeness is palpable in the photographs, which feel less like an outsider’s documentation and more like a loving homage to individuals who embody strength and compassion. The series as a whole creates an immediate sense of familiarity, inviting viewers to connect with the characters as if they were long-lost family.

The second section of the exhibition immerses viewers in the vibrant world of the Notting Hill Carnival, capturing its essence as a celebration of culture, identity, and community. Rooted in the traditions of the Trinidadian Carnival—the largest and most iconic carnival of the Caribbean—the Notting Hill Carnival brings together people of all backgrounds in a joyous expression of freedom and unity. Dawoojee’s photographs in this section celebrate this spirit, showcasing the glamour, strength, and individuality of the women who take part.

Trinidad and Tobago, the birthplace of West Indian Carnival, evolved this celebration through the mid-1800s as a way to tell stories of slavery and emancipation. Today, the carnival is for all ages, uniting families from children to grandparents in a shared experience of music, dance, and history. Central to the festivities is the steelpan, the national instrument of the islands, and soca music, which originated as a unifying force for the African and East Indian communities during times of labour division and conflict. The beats, costumes, and sounds of the carnival reflect the complex cultural fusion of the Caribbean, including influences from indigenous Arawaks, African traditions, and East Indian customs. These traditions were carried over to the UK, where the Notting Hill Carnival became the second largest carnival in the world, embodying love, inclusiveness, and cultural pride.

Dawoojee’s series vividly captures this heritage through three striking portraits of women dressed in elaborate costumes in black, orange, and red. These costumes, adorned with lace, glitter, bright fabrics, and feathers, embody the carnival’s celebratory mood while nodding to its historical and cultural significance. Each woman is a vision of glamour, with feathered crowns that soar skyward, visually framing them as queens of their heritage. The simplicity of the dark backdrop places all attention on the subjects, allowing their vibrant costumes and radiant expressions to shine.

While the photographs share a similar setting, Dawoojee varies the staging, angle, and emotion in each portrait, revealing the unique character of her subjects. Some women meet the camera’s gaze with confidence and poise, their regal strength unmistakable. Others smile shyly, their postures reflecting the novelty of being photographed. Despite their lack of professional modelling experience, the women radiate joy and pride, embodying the essence of the carnival as a celebration of individuality and community.

The stories behind the carnival add depth to the series. The ‘march’ through the streets is more than a parade; it is a liberating experience where Caribbeans can express freedom and unity. Notting Hill Carnival also incorporates elements of Grenadian Jab Jab and other island folklore, blending traditions into a unifying language of music and dance. Dawoojee’s choice to focus on older women—figures often overlooked in discussions of glamour and visibility—adds another layer of richness to her work, emphasizing the importance of honoring experience, resilience, and legacy.

At the centre of the exhibition stands Dream Warrior, one of the last works by Lincoln Rahamut, a legendary Trinidadian costume designer affectionately known as the 'King of Sequins.' Rahamut, who brought his artistry to the UK in the 1970s, revolutionized Mas traditions with his innovative use of materials like metal, fabric, and sequins, crafting intricate, story-telling masterpieces. His legacy in Caribbean culture is celebrated through this striking costume, which embodies the strength, resilience, and creativity of Mas.

Displayed on a white mannequin atop a pedestal, Dream Warrior exudes an ethereal presence, its design creating the illusion of levitation. A halo of protruding feathers recalls the Virgin Mary’s crown, while open arms showcase intricate details such as crystal flowers, fringe, golden lace, and fur. The costume radiates symbolism and artistry, Dream Warrior not only celebrates the beauty of Mas but also stands as a true star of the carnival, a fitting tribute to Rahamut’s extraordinary contributions to costume design and Caribbean heritage.

Moving on to the next wall the exhibition presents ‘In between the palm trees’ series of ten striking portraits taken as the result of a meaningful collaboration between Aneesa Dawoojee and the A.S.K.I. team - Amanda Nilmadhub, Joseph Jeffers, and Farrah Khan. Together, they worked with women from the A.S.K.I. community centre, inviting them to select their favourite colours, fabrics, and accessories to create deeply personal representations. For some, objects with special resonance were included, tying their portraits to individual stories and memories. Stylist Amanda crafted outfits that highlighted the unique tones and personalities of each subject, while Dawoojee chose a rich palm print as the backdrop. This pattern, a recurring motif in Dawoojee’s work, is rooted in her heritage, inspired by a European style dress her mother had made and worn, adorned with palms. An image of this dress is also included in the exhibition, symbolizing the connection between past and present. 

The portraits in this section continue Dawoojee’s signature focus on character and individuality. Though the women lack professional modelling experience, Dawoojee’s artistry captures their unique essence through varied expressions, postures, and compositions. Each photograph presents a balance of strength, vulnerability, and pride, underscoring the importance of honouring these women and their stories.

One of the most captivating images is of Gloria, dressed in radiant red with a bold red flower adorning her head. She wears a traditional Caribbean jewellery set, including an intricate necklace and earrings, which lend her an air of elegance. Posed in half-profile, her downcast eyes and wistful expression evoke a sense of introspection and quiet power. Far from shyness, her gaze reflects inner strength and resilience. The accompanying tag reveals her appreciation for the A.S.K.I. team’s work with older generations and shares her poignant reflection: “Smiling makes people young.”

Another standout portrait is of Carole, a woman of Jamaican, Chinese, and European heritage. Carole’s portrait is rich with cultural symbolism, as she holds a small Jamaican ‘toddy bird’ sculpture—a traditional marketplace item representing her fascination with Jamaican wood craftsmanship. She recalls her first visit to Jamaica at age 22, where she discovered the island’s artistry and cultural depth. Her presence in the photograph exudes a quiet pride, a testament to her multifaceted heritage and connection to her roots.

This series beautifully captures the essence of the women, their individuality, and the Caribbean cultural influences that shape their identities. With its vibrant costumes, symbolic objects, and painterly backdrops, this collaboration transforms each subject into a queen, celebrating their stories, strength, and beauty.

The concluding section of the exhibition, Cutlass and Cane, is a powerful exploration of the intersection between gender, heritage, and identity, marking a shift toward a deeply feminist perspective. Dawoojee uses this series to honour the strength and complexity of Indian-Caribbean women, focusing on their relationship with traditional objects and domestic spaces, historically considered the realm of women. Each image portrays women dressed in vibrant, traditional attire, engaging with household or cultural items that carry layered meanings of tradition, identity, and defiance. An important theme in Cutlass and Cane is the historical inability of many women to access education, as they were often confined to domestic roles and responsibilities. Dawoojee reflects on the sacrifices and limitations faced by Indian-Caribbean women, who according to patriarchal norms were expected to remain at home, tending to household duties and upholding familial traditions. 

Central to this section is the photograph of Vanesha, a writer and activist whose commanding presence immediately draws the viewer’s attention. Seated in a composed yet assertive posture, her hands grip a cutlass—a symbol of labour and resilience in Caribbean culture, especially for women, who use it for everyday chores and food preparation. The cold steel of the cutlass rests against her bare shoulder, contrasting with her richly adorned textiles. Her gaze, filled with determination and authority, challenges traditional perceptions of women as confined to domestic roles. In the accompanying text, Vanesha explains the significance of her name, which means ‘creator of destiny’ and shares her resolve to “not accept the world as it stands.” She sees her privileged position in the UK as a tool to fight for justice and peace. The cutlass, from a domestic tool for Caribbean women transforms in her portrait into a symbol of empowerment.  

Another striking portrait in this series is of Melanie, who holds a towa, a traditional Indian pan used to make roti, chapati, and dosa – all various types of fried dough, alongside a ceramic bottle. The towa, deeply tied to West Indian households, becomes a symbol of cultural heritage and connection. Her image reflects Melanie’s nostalgia for the culinary traditions of her childhood, evoking the warmth and care of her mother’s home-cooked meals, a reminder of traditions that often fade with the passing of older generations. Melanie’s reflection (in the accompanying tag) on food as a connection to her Indian heritage highlights the tension between preserving cultural identity and navigating life in a modern, diasporic context. In her portrait, the act of holding these objects becomes a reclamation of her cultural identity and a bridge to her heritage.

The series as a whole emphasizes the duality of these women’s lives, caught between preserving cultural roots and navigating modernity. Dawoojee uses the imagery of traditional tools and kitchenware to acknowledge the roles women historically played, while her subjects’ bold gazes and confident postures reclaim these roles as sources of strength rather than subjugation. With Cutlass and Cane, Dawoojee closes the exhibition on a thought-provoking note, celebrating the resilience of Indian-Caribbean women and their power to redefine cultural narratives, ensuring their stories are both remembered and respected.

Altogether the collection of images by Aneesa Dawoojee in March of the Hummingbirds is a powerful tribute to resilience, heritage, and identity. By choosing portraiture as her main genre, she captures the strength, joy, and complexity of Caribbean and multicultural communities in the UK. Each series - whether honouring the Windrush Generation, celebrating Notting Hill Carnival, or reclaiming narratives in Cutlass and Cane—offers a deeply personal yet universal story. Dawoojee’s work goes beyond documentation; it is a celebration of culture, unity, and empowerment. With sensitivity and artistic precision, she ensures these stories are seen, remembered, and valued, leaving a lasting impact on those who engage with her work.

Mayuko Yamaguchi

I first encountered art history at the age of 10, on reading Inferno by Dan Brown. I was fascinated by the symbolism of the paintings and how we can communicate through artworks beyond time and space. Ever since, art has always been at the centre of my interest. Through studying philosophy and history of art, I became particularly interested in the importance of comprehension and sharing of the cultural distinctions inherent in visual culture, along with their interpretations. Having Japanese heritage while living in the UK made me want to explore the relativity of differing perceptions, shaped by artwork and imagery more. 

I hope, as a student journalist, I can share the relative and subjective nature of visual experiences, especially in the cultural field. 

Review of Ainu Stories – Virtual Exhibition from Japan House London

The Ainu are indigenous people of northern Japan who have their own language (Ainu language), traditional customs, and distinct culture. After opening the country, the Japanese government sent military settler colonists (tondenhei) to northern Japan as they realised the need for the development and defence in the northern frontier, endorsing assimilation policy against the indigenous Ainu people. Since then, their traditions have long been marginalised, so much so, that the Ainu language became classified as Critically Endangered by the UNESCO.

By sharing their stories and culture, this exhibition, Ainu Stories, played a pivotal role in fostering greater understanding and increasing awareness in equity and inclusion for minorities who were often overlooked in mainstream historical narratives. Although the original exhibition ended in 2024, the virtual exhibition is still available on the Japan House London webpage.

The exhibition emphasises the influence of traditional Ainu in modern society in terms of their culture; “endangered language; society and the preservation of the environment; textiles, songs and dance; and woodcarving and tourism” (cited in the Japan House virtual exhibition webpage). 

One of the most powerful elements of the exhibition is its focus on their patterns which can be seen in textiles and woodwork. Each design element, passed down through generations, highlights the Ainu’s deep connection to the natural world and their spiritual beliefs. Whilst there are traditional basic pattern forms, craftspeople from Ainu bring in new ideas and expands their original patterns, making each pattern contemporary and alive yet showing respect to their ancestors. 

As I navigated through the exhibition, I was struck by the videos filming interviews of people who have been trying to preserve, pass on, and expand Ainu culture.  Their stories reflect the resilience of the Ainu community while underline the importance of cultural, environmental preservation and the intergenerational knowledge transfer. They underscore the challenges and successes faced by the interviewees, reminding us of the vital role of individuals in keeping cultural legacies alive. 

The Ainu people have faced centuries of cultural suppression and discrimination. While the Japanese government officially recognised the Ainu as an indigenous people only in 2008, the exhibition allows for raising wider awareness and nuanced understanding of their rich heritage and contemporary struggles. The fact that Japan House published the exhibition in digital format after the original made their history more accessible to the wider audience, as well as highlighted the importance of equity in the representation of indigenous cultures. this exhibition encourages us all to consider how we can contribute to recognise and respect cultures for their invaluable contributions to our modern society.

Profile: Ariel Yuan 

Interview: Women in the Art field

There seems to be a contradiction in the lack of representation of women in the artistic cannon and higher positions in artistic institutions, compared to the overwhelmingly female demographic in artistic education, perhaps due to the idea of art as a “feminine practice”. I wanted to explore how women’s academic careers were affected by this, and I was lucky enough to get an interview with a PhD student whose dissertation focus was also on the gendered associations of certain disciplines, specifically textiles. In this interview, Aoife Stables, an accomplished art history student with both museum and research experience and many academic accolades, gives us her account and first-hand experience of the gendered structures of art history.

Why have you chosen this topic as your PhD thesis?

My topic is about women and textiles in 15th Century Spain. I have always been interested in the connection between women and textiles. Sewing and weaving are historically associated with women, but I question to what degree textiles are feminine or gendered. This entails looking at how gendered textiles are, and how people in the 15th century gendered textiles. There was significant writing in the 15th century about appropriate activities for women, linking embroidery and mending to the Virgin Mary. I am examining both the historical reality and modern perceptions of these gendered associations.

Textiles are often associated with femininity. Do they also imply passivity? How does this contrast with Isabella of Castile’s rule?

Embroidery involves silence, being bent over your work, thus you are not vocal or present in a traditionally masculine way, which benefits patriarchal structures. Isabel of Castile balanced being a “good woman” with and being a “good ruler” which entails embodying masculine ideals of power. My research has shifted to the textile industry in Valencia, but similar themes remain.

Is there a similar pressure, to be both a “good woman” and “good ruler” on women in academia?

In art history, my experience as a student was mostly among women or those questioning gender identities. However, as you progress in academia, patriarchal ideas become more noticeable. I have noticed that in group projects, women often handle administrative burdens while men focus on having the big ideas. I’ve heard from others that this dynamic continues into departments, where women must manage these tasks while avoiding being labelled as bossy.

Has this been a major obstacle for you?

Not in my early academic career, but these issues become more apparent at higher levels. My undergraduate and master’s experiences were largely surrounded by women.

Is art history as a discipline gendered?

Unfortunately, yes. It has an overwhelmingly female student base, but senior positions are dominated by men. Art history suffers from the perception that it’s not a serious subject, focusing on aesthetics rather than contributing to society. However, my PhD cohort has more men than I’ve previously encountered, so it’s certainly not a black and white picture. Like textiles, there are gendered associations with this discipline, whether it’s accurate or not.

Will the gender imbalance shift in the future?

It’s hard to say. Even if women reach senior positions, it doesn’t necessarily mean that all the problems of the subject will go away. Advancement is often about connections and privilege as much as qualifications. Though, I definitely hope so.

Have you found gaps in historical narratives due to male-dominated scholarship?

Yes. In 15th-century art history, gender has rarely been a lens of analysis. Traditional scholarship focused on attribution and connoisseurship, side-lining social themes like gender, piety, race and devotion. Women’s contributions were also often overlooked, making archival research challenging.

Because of the rarity of women in the artistic canon, are women that were included depicted in overly hagiographic ways?

Yes, due to limited archival exploration. The “exceptional woman” narrative arises because historians haven’t fully documented women’s participation in art production. Simply inserting some women into a male-dominated canon is insufficient, and the implication that they have transcended their “womaness” to be as good as men is problematic.

Were you influenced by external pressures to pursue a PhD?

No, it was my decision. Many people in my life don’t see a PhD in art history as a path to success. However, confidence gaps between genders might affect education choices. I certainly am hesitant to talk about something that I feel I don’t have all of the facts on or personal experience in, which might not be something men tend to feel, so I wonder if that has been a factor in my own education journey or for other women.

Has your multilingual ability benefited your career?

Yes, it’s helpful for reading diverse sources and was useful in my time working in museums. But language acquisition requires privilege—time and resources. I was able to study in Florence, and I did an Erasmus year in France, I’ve been very fortunate to have those experiences, but it might not always be easy for other people. Accessibility is definitely an issue.

Is art history exclusive to privileged backgrounds?

Yes. Museum-goers and art history students are often middle- or upper-class. The lack of high-paying jobs also means many may rely on financial support. My parents helped me financially to live in London while I applied for jobs, and I was able to devote almost all of my time to honing my applications, which helped me immensely. But I recognise that it might not be an option for everyone.

Is art history framed as a luxury? Should changes be made?

The arts and humanities are undervalued and underfunded. Speaking from my experiences working in London, museums are aiming to engage broader audiences, as seen with exhibitions like Harry Kane’s, proposed by a staff member from a working-class background. Progress is happening, but more work is needed.

Any advice for students pursuing a PhD in art history?

Take time between your master’s and PhD. Gaining work experience helped me refine my research interests. PhD funding is competitive, so enhancing your application through languages or extracurriculars can help. Higher education is not a direct path—explore opportunities and develop your approach thoughtfully.