Six and a Half a Dozen: Faraz Muhammad on the Politics of Perspective
Fashion introduced Faraz Muhammad to creativity, but history gave it a whole new direction. A multidisciplinary creative whose work spans modelling, fashion, photography, and visual art, Faraz approaches every project with the curiosity of a researcher and the eye of a storyteller. His exhibition Six and a Half a Dozen invited audiences to consider how different perspectives can exist side by side. While his work continues to explore history, politics, and the narratives that shape human experience and encourages people to look beyond the obvious.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and tell us how you got into art and fashion?
My name is Faraz Muhammad. I’m Nigerian, born in Zaria, Kaduna State, and I’m 27 years old. Fashion came into my life very early. My dad wore suits to work every day and had a wardrobe of more than fifty suits. I was always the one choosing his shirt, tie, shoes, and the colours he would wear. Even before that, I had an uncle who loved basketball and used to dress us in early-2000s streetwear, the baggy T-shirts, sneakers, and everything that came with it. Looking back, those were probably my earliest introductions to fashion. As I got older, I naturally became interested in clothes.
Later, while I was living in Taiwan, someone stopped me on the street and asked if I modelled. I didn’t, but that conversation led to my first modelling job with Zara. From there, I went on to work at Taipei Fashion Week, Seoul Fashion Week, and eventually Paris Fashion Week. Art has always existed alongside fashion for me. I’ve been sketching and drawing for as long as I can remember. More recently, I decided to take that work seriously by exhibiting it professionally. To me, art and fashion are siblings, you can’t really separate one from the other.
Was there a defining moment that made you decide to pursue art professionally?
I’ve been making art for as long as I can remember, but not professionally. Earlier this year, I looked at the work I’d created over time about more than 140 illustrations and realised I finally had enough to put together an exhibition. Some of the pieces were new, while others were older works. I still wanted to tell those stories because history doesn’t really expire. My art isn’t just abstract work; it’s rooted in stories, history, and significant events that I think are worth remembering.
You work across different creative disciplines. How do you balance them all?
Honestly, I don’t. I tend to focus on one thing at a time. If I wake up and decide I’m going to dedicate myself to a particular project, I’ll stay with it until it’s finished before moving on to the next thing. Most people know me through fashion, so when they came to my exhibition they were surprised to discover I also make art. I enjoy that. I don’t mind people discovering different sides of what I do over time.
What inspires your work the most?
I’m an information person. My inspiration comes from learning. I read a lot, I watch documentaries, and I’m constantly researching. More than anything, I’m fascinated by history and the past. I believe the best thing we can do is learn from what has already happened so we don’t repeat the same mistakes. Almost every piece I create begins with something I’ve read, researched, or discovered. That’s the foundation of my work.
In your exhibition notes, you mentioned being exposed to politics and history early in life. How did that shape your art?
When I was about five years old, my parents separated, and I spent several years living with my grandmother. She always kept a radio beside her, and that radio became a huge source of knowledge for me. It was always on, and I grew up listening to news, discussions, and stories about what was happening in the world. That radio eventually became the focal point of the exhibition because it represents where my curiosity began.
The title Six and a Half a Dozen is conceptual. What does it mean?
If someone walks into a room and I ask how many people are inside, they might say six. Another might say half a dozen. It’s the same thing, but approached differently. That’s what the exhibition explores, how different perspectives can describe the same reality without cancelling each other out.
How would you describe your perspective as an artist?
I don’t create art to tell people what to think. I present my perspective, but I leave room for interpretation. My work isn’t about forcing agreement; it’s about offering another way of seeing. I often speak to visitors during exhibitions because I enjoy explaining the ideas behind the work. But once it’s over, I let the pieces exist on their own. That’s also why I don’t explain my work much on social media. I prefer people to engage with it directly.
What does your creative process look like?
It usually starts with something I’ve seen, remembered, or researched. I might be walking and something triggers an idea, or I’m reading news articles or watching documentaries. Everything I create is research-based. I try to understand a subject deeply before turning it into visual work.
How important is research in your practice?
It’s essential. Without research, the work loses meaning. My work often touches political and social themes, so I take responsibility for what I create seriously. Research ensures accuracy, depth, and integrity.
What conversations do you want your work to contribute to?
I’m not trying to start conversations, I’m trying to create awareness. My focus is on political, historical, and religious themes that people don’t always take time to research. The goal is to show that there is always more beneath the surface.
Looking back, what would surprise your younger self the most?
Probably my confidence. It’s a big shift from doing things privately to sharing them publicly and seeing them resonate with people. Coming from Nigeria, I don’t think my younger self would have imagined this path. But here we are