Today’s Studio Talk began with a simple yet powerful exercise: introductions, followed by the question, “What do you want to be remembered for?”
The answers were as diverse as the room itself: “that Acholi girl,” “the one who broke rules,” “the unapologetic writer,” “the mysterious guy.” For others, the honest truth was, “I’m not sure I want to be remembered.”
From there, the conversation deepened into questions of legacy—what it is, how it’s built, and whether it’s something artists should actively think about.
Tikia captured the essence: “Legacy is impact… it’s the first thing people think of when your name is mentioned in a room. Even in your absence, there should still be impact.” But is legacy the same for everyone? Can it exist in levels? And is it always intentional?
The group agreed: legacy, at its core, is a choice. It starts with deciding how you want your work—and yourself—to be experienced by the world. Yet, history shows us that many of the most influential figures never set out to build a legacy; their impact emerged naturally, sometimes without their awareness.
A pressing question surfaced: How do you balance “let them see my face” with “let them see my work”? Some argued that an artist’s personality can be separate from the influence of their work. Legacy, they said, can exist without a face. Others insisted that for work to live on, it must be shared, documented, and passed forward—allowing it to travel beyond the creator.
We also unpacked the difference between fame and success. Does popularity equal legacy? The consensus was no. Popularity is about recognition in the present; legacy is about lasting influence. It is the mark you leave behind, often far beyond your lifetime. Several voices reminded us that legacy is rooted in personal values. You cannot control what people think of you, but you can control the integrity of your work and the principles you live by. Some noted how society has begun bargaining away basic values, reshaping how we think about legacy. The challenge is to work on ourselves so that when both the art and the artist are weighed, they stand in balance.
So, should creatives think about legacy? Many felt yes—especially if you want your work to live on. Documenting and passing on your vision, whether through teaching, mentorship, or other means, is essential. As one participant said: “Purpose fulfilled is what success is. Once your purpose is fulfilled, the legacy is created.”
Moderator Karama Emmanuel paused the room with the question: “How do we create work that lasts forever?” The answer was sobering: sometimes, you don’t. Sometimes the work matters only for its moment. Allow yourself the grace to grow, to create in the present, and to accept that art is subjective. It will move some, and not others—but you must keep creating.
The session ended with a reminder: if we want to build legacies among ourselves, we cannot lose ourselves. Share your vision. Pass it on. Teach someone.
Because in the end, everyone leaves a legacy. The real question is: what will yours be?
