Picture this: I’m weaving through a bustling school yard, guided by a Google Maps pin that claims to lead to an artist’s studio. Boys are sitting in circles in the ground, chatting, trading stories, and tearing into their lunches—a lively scene, but one I wasn’t expecting. The pin leads me to a large white building marked with a sign that reads “Institut Al Islam pour l’Éducation.” As I push open the blue door, I was transported into an entirely different world—a world where I was welcomed by the giggles of school children and the warm smile of Oumar Ball, who hurried downstairs to greet me and welcome me into his life as an artist deeply attached to his neighborhood, the Sabkha of Mauritania, and his art. From the very first steps, I knew there was something extraordinary about this world.
With limited space to work with, the Mauritanian painter and sculptor had turned a classroom into his art studio, while dedicating a room in his house for his sculptures. The two spaces reflect the duality of Ball’s life—the lively, community-centric world of Sabkha and the quiet, introspective space where his art comes to life. “Back then, I didn’t have much,” he tells MILLE. “But that’s what made me resourceful. I learned to create from whatever was at hand, shaping my process around the materials I found.”
Sitting down with Ball, his world opens up, and his practice becomes clear. He is not seeking to perfect forms or repeat themes; his work is a continuous dialogue with his surroundings, an expression of life in all its textures. This inherently philosophical approach is deeply grounded in the memories of his childhood. Ball’s father, a photographer and painter, was his first mentor. Growing up surrounded by the tools and language of art, young Oumar would use whatever materials he could find—scraps of metal, bits of wire, pieces of plastic—to create toys, which eventually evolved into the larger sculptures that now grace exhibitions across his country and abroad, such as the Cairo and Ouagadougou Biennales.
The practice of gathering and repurposing objects is second nature to him, a habit absorbed from growing up in an environment where people make use of what’s available. “I didn’t have ecological awareness as a child,” he reflects, “but the materials I used were always around me. That’s how I learned to create something from nothing.” His approach could easily be labeled “ecological,” but for Ball, it’s an instinctive and organic part of his life. True ecological art, he believes, isn’t contrived or calculated but grows naturally from a connection with one’s surroundings.
These experiences taught him to see discarded objects as stories waiting to be told, shaping his entire creative process. When he layers textures in his paintings or finds overlooked beauty in worn-out flip-flops, bits of metal, or rough potato sacks, his art feels spontaneous and deeply rooted in his surroundings. His sculptures carry the same ethos. A goat might be formed from twisted metal scraps, its limbs and horns forged from discarded wire, its posture capturing the creature’s unrestrained energy and resilience.
His love for animals, especially goats and birds, is omnipresent across his work, evolving into a hallmark of his art. “I’m not trying to sculpt the identity of an animal,” he explains. “I’m looking for its essence. A goat in my hometown won’t be the same as one in Tunisia, but the idea of the goat—its freedom, its vitality—remains.”
Each animal embodies qualities he connects with on a profound level. Birds, for instance, are sculpted with wings spread wide, formed from layered sheets of rusted metal that mimic feathers. The rough, imperfect edges create the illusion of motion, as if the bird is caught mid-flight, resilient yet fragile. Crafted from scraps, the birds seem to hover in space, embodying a quiet strength and an innate longing for freedom—a quality Ball feels deeply connected to.
“We, too, have an animalistic side, and often it’s this instinct that we struggle to control,” he reflects. For Ball, these creatures serve as mirrors, reflecting the struggles, freedoms, and instincts that define the human experience.
Yet, Ball’s work isn’t just about metaphors or personal reflection. As he continues to gain recognition on the international art stage, his pieces engage with larger social and environmental questions. His participation in international exhibitions has expanded his perspective, helping him understand the broader conversations that art can provoke. “Art brings people together,” he says. “It’s a universal language. Through it, we can talk about the things that unite us—freedom, heritage, environment.”
For him, his life and surroundings are his own muse, and this alone can earn him the title of Mauritania’s ambassador. Ball’s art is not only a reflection of his personal journey but also a commentary on the evolution of his homeland. “In the village where I grew up, there were animals everywhere—goats, cows, birds. When there’s water, there’s life. But now, it’s different. I miss nature; I feel surrounded by too many buildings.” His longing for nature is palpable, and it’s this desire for connection—to land, to animals, to his heritage—that drives his creative process.
One of the most compelling aspects of Ball’s practice is the way he captures the duality of Mauritania’s cultural identity. While Mauritania remains relatively isolated from the global art world, Ball sees this as both a limitation and an opportunity. “It’s true that Mauritania isn’t as open as places like Dakar or Paris, but that’s what makes my work unique. I’m telling stories that haven’t been told yet.”
When asked about his participation in the upcoming Dakar Biennale, where his pieces will once again be on display, he says, “This will be my third time exhibiting,” smiling. “And each time, I feel like I’m showing a new chapter of my story, both as an artist and as a Mauritanian.”
As we prepare to leave his studio, Ball points to a large, unfinished sculpture. “Art is never really finished,” he muses. “Each piece I create feeds into the next one. It’s a conversation that keeps going. It’s like life itself—always evolving, always searching for meaning.”
What began in a lively school courtyard concluded in Ball’s family salon, watching as his wife prepared Mauritanian tea—a ritual as familiar and unpretentious as the art that fills his life. Ball’s world is a place that breathes creativity without needing to be polished or commercialized, and his art is inseparable from the life and land of Mauritania.
Feature Image: LITTLE BIG GALERIE
