We were lucky to catch up with Mbangala Perrott Bénédicte recently and have shared our conversation below.

Mbangala Perrott, looking forward to hearing all of your stories today. Are you happier as a creative? Do you sometimes think about what it would be like to just have a regular job? Can you talk to us about how you think through these emotions?

Am I happier as a business owner? I’m not sure I would define myself that way. I feel deeply fulfilled as someone who creates, someone who allows space for art, for thought, for emotion to exist and circulate in the world. That is where my happiness lives.

I feel incredibly lucky to be able to create and contribute to art that is seen in the world (or, in my world). Sharing stories that emerge from my creative self, opening difficult conversations through a piece, or simply inviting wonder or reflection through my paintings brings me a profound sense of joy.

But my reality is layered. I’m not a full-time artist, being an abstract painter isn’t my fulltime job. I work as a criminal lawyer, and painting has taken more and more space over time. And in many ways, that coexistence is essential to me. Blending art, social engagement, and activism through both my work and my artistic practice feels like a meaningful balance.

There was a moment not long ago, after a long day working, I find myself, exhausted, still carrying fragments of stories that weren’t mine but stayed with me… And my painting was there, unfinished, waiting. And I remember thinking: what would it feel like to be a full-time artist?

But as I stood in front of that canvas, something shifted. I realized that what exhausts me is also what connects me: peoples, stories, fighting for what’s right and meaningful. The beautiful struggle.
It reminded me that I don’t necessarily want to be full Time in one activity and leaves the other. Experiencing both is such a Joy.

My studio, my brand, is called Peintre parfois (“Painter sometimes”). It’s both a statement and a refusal. A refusal of the idea that we must specialize, that our talents, and even our bodies, must be reduced to tools of production. “Painter sometimes” is my way of claiming the right to be multiple, to be undisciplined in the most liberating sense, to create beyond expectations of consistency, productivity, or even profitability.

So no, I don’t dream of a more “regular” path. If anything, those moments of thought only reaffirm that what I’m building, between law, art and this is exactly where I’m meant to be.

Great, appreciate you sharing that with us. Before we ask you to share more of your insights, can you take a moment to introduce yourself and how you got to where you are today to our readers.

My name is Bénédicte Mbangala Perrott. I came to painting in a very instinctive, almost urgent way. It wasn’t something I planned, it was something I needed.

At a certain point, questions of racial justice became central in my life, so present, so intense, that they kept me awake at night. I’ve always been somewhat of an insomniac, but during that period, it felt different. One night, unable to sleep, I got up and painted a piece that I titled “What wakes you up in the middle of the night angry and ready to fight?” That moment marked the beginning of my practice.

Since then, I’ve continued to paint, peintre parfois, as I like to say. Over the past few years, abstraction has become a central language in my work. It allows me to explore emotion and tension in ways that feel both intimate, powerful and expansive, beyond words.

I’ve had the opportunity to collaborate with cultural institutions and to exhibit my work in galleries as part of group shows. My first collectors were people from my close circle, friends, family, those who had witnessed the beginning of my journey and over time, that circle has naturally expanded. Today, many collectors find me through social media or by email: sometimes because they are drawn to the visual impact of a piece, sometimes because of the story behind it, and often to commission custom works that resonate with their own experiences.

What I create are bold, large-scale paintings that carry both beauty and meaning. With my work, the meanings behind my painting and this bold color, I aim to inspire and foster social change. I like to think that I’m not just creating objects, I create spaces for dialogue, for introspection and for connection.

What sets my work apart, I think, is this dual commitment: to aesthetic intensity and to emotional or political depth. There is a form of audacity in my pieces, their scale, their presence, the color which, for many viewers, feels unmatched and also this constant invitation to feel, to question, and to engage.

I also care deeply about accessibility. I want art to live everywhere, not only in elite spaces or in the hands of those who can easily afford it, but also with people who feel an emotional connection to it. That belief shapes how I share my work and how I engage with my audience.

One of the things I’m most proud of is building genuine relationships with collectors. I love meeting new people, guiding them as they begin or expand their collection, and also using my platform to highlight artists from my community whose work deserves to be seen and celebrated.

More than anything, I want people to understand that Peintre parfois is not just a name, it’s a philosophy. It’s about allowing oneself to create freely, to exist beyond rigid definitions, and to embrace complexity. My work, like my path, is evolving and that openness is at the heart of everything I do.

Are there any resources you wish you knew about earlier in your creative journey?

Looking back, I don’t think there are specific “resources” I wish I had known about earlier at least not in the traditional sense. What I do wish I had understood sooner is something more essential: not to be timid about what I deeply believe to be art, even if it doesn’t fit the dominant narratives around art or creation.
Especially at the beginning, it can be tempting to try to fit into a program, a trend, or an aesthetic that feels more visible, more accepted, more “legitimate” to galleries and collectors.

But I’ve come to understand that forcing your work into those frameworks can slowly distance you from its core.

I grew up surrounded by art. My parents filled our home with pieces that shaped my eyes and my sensitivity from a very early age. So, in a way, I carried an intuitive understanding of art with me. But I was far from imagining the constraints of the art world, the subtle and sometimes explicit pressure from certain institutions to almost strip art of its soul in exchange for visibility or financial recognition.

If there is one thing I would tell my younger self, it is this: don’t compromise the essence of what you create just to belong.

Art persists. It insists. It exists independently of the frameworks that claim to legitimize it. It is whole, sovereign, and complete from the very moment it is created. Whether it is seen or unseen, collected or not, shared widely or kept intimate, it already exists, fully.

And from there, the artist can choose whether to offer it to the world.

That understanding changed everything for me. It allowed me to create more freely, to resist the pressure to conform, and I sure would have needed to understand that before starting this creative journey.

Is there a particular goal or mission driving your creative journey?

Yes, there is definitely a purpose driving my creative journey. At its core, it’s about connection.
More than anything, I want to touch people, collectors, viewers, anyone who encounters my work. I want to create something that resonates deeply, that sparks a real and honest emotion. And beyond that, I want to meet them, to connect, to build something meaningful through those exchanges.
I remember a defining moment very clearly. Last summer, I had just turned 30, and for the first time, my husband and I opened the doors of our home to host an exhibition curated with care and intention.
During that evening, something happened that stayed with me. The mother of a close friend stood in front of one of my paintings… and she broke down in tears. Visibly moved, almost overwhelmed by what the piece awakened in her. These are the moments that remind me why I paint.
This is what I want to create, that level of emotional connection, that kind of honesty. Work that doesn’t just exist to be seen, but that reaches into someone, that resonates, that holds something real enough to be felt deeply.
At the same time, another essential part of my journey is meeting and collaborating with other creatives. These encounters bring something to life that I could never create alone. For this collection, I collaborated with the talented Belgian creator Delphine Dubuisson, based in London. She not only photographed the series but also designed and created the garments I’m wearing. Through her brand, she develops high-end pieces with a strong commitment to both environmental and social responsibility. Her work can be found at @delphinedubuissonlondon.
What emerged from this collaboration was a powerful synergy between fashion and painting. It almost felt as though the garments were created in dialogue with the artworks. A true meeting of disciplines, where different forms of expression converge and elevate one another. This is something I deeply want to continue exploring, creating, sharing, and growing alongside other artists.
At the same time, I also have dreams. There are galleries that deeply inspire me, such as Nicola Vassell Gallery or Hannah Traore Gallery in Manhattan. To one day be represented by spaces like these that share a strong commitment to supporting and highlighting contemporary artists, particularly Black artists and those from the African diaspora, by offering them a visible and rigorous platform on the international art scene.These are ambitions I carry close with me.
But beyond any institution, what matters most, the goal is that the work remains alive, sincere, and capable of creating that moment, when someone stands in front of a piece and feels seen, shaken, or understood.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.peintreparfois.com/
• Instagram: @peintre.parfois
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/peintre.parfois

Image Credits

Delphine Dubuisson