06/04/2026
An artist reflects on identity, heritage and the stories held within every canvas and brushstroke.🇸🇨🖌🎨
In a quiet studio shaped by memory and meaning, an artist, Cliff Zelia, is capturing more than scenes of the past. Through his work, traditional Seychellois life is not only remembered, it is being preserved and given a voice in a rapidly changing world.
In this conversation, he reflects on his journey, his purpose and the responsibility of keeping heritage alive through art.
Asked if his paintings are all that is left, Zelia says he would like it to be a representation of the island nation, a place where culture, family bonds and belongingness matter.
Can you take us back to the moment you first felt connected to this style of painting?
🖌 I discovered my connection to art at a very young age during my school years in art and craft classes. It was in those quiet moments of creating that I began to recognise something special within me, a natural gift and an instinctive talent that gently shaped who I was becoming as an artist.
Was there a specific memory, place or person that shaped your artistic direction?
During my school days at Anse Aux Pins, I was fortunate to be guided by my art teacher, Golbert Nourrice. He saw something in me before I fully understood it myself.
Through his encouragement, he pushed me to keep practising and to believe in what I carried within. His support became a turning point. It strengthened my confidence, refined my skills, and helped me truly embrace the gift I hold as an artist.
Your work revisits traditional Seychellois life. Why do you feel this is important today?
Revisiting traditional Seychellois life is important today because it helps keep our identity from fading in a rapidly changing world. Much of what once defined us, how we lived, built, shared and connected, is slowly disappearing. If we do not preserve it, we risk losing not just memories, but a part of who we are.
Through my work, I try to hold onto those fragments of the past and give them a voice again. In a time where everything is modernising, I see my art as a way of protecting that heritage, ensuring that the spirit of Seychellois life remains something people can still feel, understand and connect with.
Do you think we are at risk of forgetting parts of our cultural identity?
Yes, there is a real risk.
In a fast changing world, parts of our cultural identity can quietly fade. Old Creole homes are disappearing, traditions are practised less, and younger generations are growing up surrounded by global influences that can overshadow our own stories. It does not happen suddenly. It happens slowly, almost unnoticed. That is why I believe it is so important to keep these memories alive. Through my art, I try to preserve those fragile pieces of Seychellois life, the architecture, the atmosphere and the spirit of our people, so they are not lost to time.
How do you decide which elements of old Seychelles to capture in your paintings?
I focus on elements that are at risk of being forgotten, traditional homes, everyday scenes and cultural details that once defined our identity. My aim is to preserve not just what we can see, but what we feel, the atmosphere, the history and the soul of Seychelles.
What guides me is the emotion each subject evokes. I ask myself whether it speaks of our heritage, our traditions and the lives that came before us. I am drawn to what is fragile, beautiful and often overlooked. In every painting, I strive to capture more than an image. I seek to preserve the textures, colours and stories that define who we are, so they can be remembered and felt for generations to come.
What does tradition mean to you personally?
Tradition, to me, is the living heartbeat of who we are, a bridge between the past and the present that keeps us connected to our roots. It lives not only in what we can see, but in our values, our memories and the quiet rhythms of everyday life. It is both a memory and a responsibility to honour, protect and carry forward the spirit of our heritage so it continues to live on in future generations.
Many of your paintings feel like stories frozen in time. What stories are you trying to tell?
I tell the stories of our roots, of traditional Seychellois life, of Creole homes and spaces rich with history and meaning. Each painting is a tribute to the people and generations that shaped our identity, reminding us of where we come from and what we must protect. More than images, they are echoes of the past, an invitation to pause, remember and reconnect with the soul of Seychelles before it fades.
Are your scenes based on real memories, research or imagination?
My scenes are a blend of memory, research and imagination. Some are inspired by real places, personal experiences or stories shared with me, while others draw from old photographs and historical references that help me capture the essence of traditional Seychellois life.
Imagination allows me to bring these elements together, filling in what time has erased and breathing life back into spaces that no longer exist as they once did. In this way, each painting becomes more than a reconstruction. It becomes a reawakening, where memory, history and creativity come together to tell a story that feels real and alive.
Do you see yourself more as an artist or as a storyteller?
I see myself as both, because for me, art and storytelling are inseparable. The brush is my voice, and each painting is a story waiting to be told.
Through colour, texture and form, I bring to life the memories, people and heritage of Seychelles, capturing moments that have passed and traditions that still echo through time.
What fascinates you most about traditional houses and the old way of life?
What fascinates me most is how much life and history these houses hold. A traditional Creole home is never just a structure. It is a vessel of memory, shaped by generations, their routines and their way of living.
I am drawn to the details, the worn wood, colours softened by time, and the way light moves through open spaces. Each element reflects a lifestyle that is simple, practical and deeply meaningful.
But more than anything, it is the human story that captivates me, the laughter, the traditions and the quiet moments that once filled those spaces. These houses carry the spirit of a Seychelles that is slowly fading, and through my art, I try to honour it and keep it alive.
What do you think younger generations misunderstand about that era?
Many younger generations may see that era as old fashioned or simply part of the past, without fully understanding the richness it carried. They may overlook the skill, creativity and care behind Creole homes and the way people lived in close connection with nature and community.
What is often missed is that it was not just about survival. It was a way of life rooted in culture, values and human connection. A world shaped by stories and a strong sense of belonging that still defines who we are today.
Through my art, I try to bridge that gap, helping them see that the past is not distant or irrelevant, but a living part of our identity, something to understand, value and preserve.
If you had to describe that time in three words, what would they be?
Vibrant, rooted and timeless.
Walk us through your process from idea to finished painting.
My process begins with a feeling or a memory. Sometimes it is a place I have seen, a story I have heard, or a detail that stays with me. From there, I gather references through photographs, research or personal recollection.
I begin sketching to shape the composition and structure of the scene. Once the foundation is set, I build the painting through layers, focusing on colour, light and texture. I take my time with each detail, allowing the piece to develop naturally.
Throughout the process, I am guided by emotion. It is not just about accuracy, but about capturing the atmosphere and spirit of the moment. When I feel that the painting carries life and meaning, I know it is complete.
How do you ensure authenticity in your depictions?
Authenticity is at the heart of my work. I draw from real references, cultural understanding and careful attention to detail. But beyond accuracy, I focus on capturing the feeling of each scene, because authenticity is not just in how it looks, but in how it lives and is remembered.
Are there particular colours or textures you use to evoke nostalgia?
Yes, colour and texture are central to evoking nostalgia in my work.
I often use warm, sunlit tones such as soft ochres, terracotta reds, gentle creams and faded pastels to reflect the lived in beauty of old Seychelles. These colours carry a sense of time, shaped by years of light and memory.
Texture also plays an important role. I focus on weathered wood, peeling paint and worn surfaces shaped by daily life. These details allow the viewer not just to see the scene, but to feel it.
Has working on these themes changed how you see your own roots?
Yes, it has changed me deeply. Exploring these themes has made me more aware of the strength and beauty of my roots.
What once felt familiar has taken on greater meaning. I now see my identity as closely tied to these stories, places and traditions, and preserving them has become both a passion and a responsibility.
Do you feel a responsibility when portraying cultural heritage?
There are moments when I stand before a blank canvas and feel the weight of something greater than art. It is a quiet responsibility that reminds me I am not just creating, but preserving.
Each painting becomes a way of holding onto lives, spaces and moments that might otherwise be lost.
What has been your most emotional piece?
One painting of a traditional Creole house that no longer stands remains especially significant to me.
It was created from memory and fragments. As I worked on it, I realised it might be one of the last ways that place would ever be seen again.
It became more than a painting. It became a farewell, and a way of preserving something that mattered.
How do audiences respond to your work?
Older viewers often respond with recognition and emotion, recalling places and moments from their own lives.
Younger viewers respond with curiosity. Many are seeing this world for the first time, and that curiosity often grows into appreciation.
In that way, my work becomes a bridge between generations.
Can your art help reconnect people with their roots?
I have seen it happen. People do not just look, they remember. Others begin to understand something they never experienced.
That is when art becomes more than an image. It becomes a bridge between memory and identity.
Where does tradition fit in a fast changing society?
Tradition is not something that belongs in the past. It is our foundation. Without it, progress loses meaning. It must move with us, grounding us in who we are while we move forward.
What challenges do you face?
The greatest challenge is that what I am trying to capture is disappearing.
There is also the challenge of perception. Not everyone sees the value of preserving the past. At the same time, there is responsibility. I must be accurate, respectful and truthful in what I represent.
Is this type of art fully appreciated locally?
It is appreciated, especially by those connected to our heritage.
But it is not always valued as deeply as it should be. That said, I see growing awareness.
Have you felt pressure to modernise your style?
No. If anything, I feel a stronger need to remain true to it. My work is about preservation, and that purpose guides me.
What direction do you see your work taking?
I want to go deeper into the past, uncovering stories and preserving what remains. I also want my work to grow in impact and reach more people.
Are there still untold stories you want to capture?
Yes, many. Some exist only in memory. Others in places that no longer stand.
That is what continues to drive me.
What legacy do you hope to leave?
I want my work to become a window into the past, allowing future generations to see and feel the Seychelles that once was.
If your paintings are all that remain, what should they say about Seychelles?
That it was more than a place of beauty. It was a place of soul. A place shaped by culture, family and belonging.
And that it was worth preserving.
