The Story Behind Ayanda and Her Sisters

Where it all began

Guided by instinct, not by a plan

Sometimes the most meaningful pieces of art emerge not from planning, but from moments of pure creative instinct. Ayanda is one of them. She was the third sister in what became, quite unexpectedly, a family.

The African Queen collection has been an evolving journey for me, experimental and driven by a desire to create something new. It began with photography, then grew to take in paint overlays, oil, acrylic and spray paint, all working against one another to make something entirely different. The first African Queen, Naledi, was born from that experimentation. Purple Reign followed, and with her I began adding more embellishment in acrylic paint and gold leaf.

Naledi, the first

Purple Reign, an African Queen portrait in violet and gold leaf by Martin Osner

Purple Reign, the second

But I had no idea where this was heading. I did not even know there was a series. I think that if we see the end before we begin, we channel ourselves into predictable outcomes. Collections like this evolve naturally, guided by the response of the people who matter most, friends, family, collectors and supporters who are not afraid to tell you when you are on the right track.

The turning point

Eliza, and a painter in a photographer's body

Eliza, from Memoirs of Light, a portrait painted in acrylic and ink on metal by Martin Osner

Eliza, Memoirs of Light

The real turning point came when I painted Eliza. Curiously, she was never meant to be part of the African Queen collection. She came from a completely different project, one that challenged everything I thought I knew about my own boundaries.

In 2022, my daughter Samantha Lee Osner and I were working with Ramzi Mansour, a friend and international photographer we represented at our gallery. Ramzi suggested a substantial joint exhibition, the three of us together, and we found a large hall and turned it into a gallery, lighting, display units and all.

Then came the question of what I would show. Ramzi had his fine art photography ready. Samantha chose mixed media, photography under layers of paint on canvas, and made her Precis collection.

“I have always maintained that I am a painter trapped in a photographer's body.”

Standing in that enormous space, I made a bold decision. I would step away from photography entirely and paint the exhibition from scratch, using photographs only as reference.

Memoirs of Light

Our second mother, in her Sunday best

The theme was Memoirs of Light, and I chose to paint memories of yesterday, positive memories that carried real emotional weight. That led me back to my childhood, and to Eliza. She was far more than a live in housekeeper to our family. She was our second mother, the one who cared for my brother and me while our parents worked full time. She fed us, tended our scrapes and bruises, and was there for all the moments that matter in a child's life.

I painted her as I remembered her dressing for church or a family gathering, resplendent in her Sunday best. I started with her face and worked slowly, methodically, sometimes doubting I would finish in time. But once I had captured her essence, the confidence flowed, and within weeks Eliza had come to life on a sheet of aluminium one and a half metres high. I painted her muted on purpose. She was the first portrait of an African woman I painted entirely by hand. Before her, the African Queens had been made with mixed media and Photo Alchemy.

From Eliza to the sisters

A leftover sheet of aluminium

Zinhle, an African woman in a red and turquoise head wrap, painted by Martin Osner

Zinhle, the first

Thandiwe, an African woman in a patterned head wrap, painted by Martin Osner

Thandiwe, her twin

Ayanda, an African woman in a striped head wrap against teal, painted by Martin Osner

Ayanda, the third

After the exhibition I had a piece of aluminium left over, and I do not like wasting. I put it on the easel and began another portrait of an African woman, what I thought was simply a continuation of Eliza.

This time I wanted the vibrancy of African life in the colour. Moroccan yellows and oranges, set against blues, greens and turquoise, to carry the sunshine, the richness and the very pulse of a culture. As I worked on her face, the familiar self doubt crept in. Then came the moment every artist knows, that bubbly feeling in your stomach when you realise something is working.

“I love it. She's mine.”An art collector, on a video call, before she was finished

An art collector called me on a video call while I was painting her. He saw the paint on my shirt, asked what I was working on, and I turned the camera round. He bought her there and then, straight off the easel. There is nothing quite like that kind of recognition. That was Zinhle.

So I painted another, this time for the gallery. I changed the head wrap, the pattern, the colours and the textures, but kept the face. When I stood back and looked at them side by side, they were twins. That was Thandiwe.

Enter Ayanda

The third sister

Ayanda, framed

When Thandiwe was also taken quickly by a collector, I felt compelled to paint a third. A rounder face this time, a different shape of head wrap and garment, and a bluer background. When she was finished, she was a sister too. The twins had become triplets, and her name was Ayanda.

Look at the three together and you see the same face, the same essential features. Yet each tells her own story through her clothing and her colour, and each carries herself differently through texture and style, while all of them keep the vibrancy of Africa.

Ayanda found her home soon after she was finished, and she was not the last.

The Sisters of Eight

Eight sisters, and their names spell Tshazile

When Ayanda was finished, I wrote that I believed the family would grow to eight sisters. It has. A collector in Australia commissioned a slightly larger painting and gave me carte blanche, and I painted her a little older, an elder sister to the three. That was Lindiwe, and she went to Australia.

That was when the family found its name. Each sister's name begins with a letter of Tshazile, which means “she who shines”.

Thandiwe, a Tshazile sister, an African woman painting by Martin Osner

TThandiweSold

Sibahle, a Tshazile sister, an African woman painting by Martin Osner

SSibahleSold

Hlengiwe, a Tshazile sister, an African woman painting by Martin Osner

HHlengiweSold

Ayanda, a Tshazile sister, an African woman painting by Martin Osner

AAyandaSold

Zinhle, a Tshazile sister, an African woman painting by Martin Osner

ZZinhleSold

Inathi, a Tshazile sister, an African woman painting by Martin Osner

IInathiSold

Lindiwe, a Tshazile sister, an African woman painting by Martin Osner

LLindiweSold

Yours to commission

EStill to be paintedOpen

Seven are painted and sold. Sibahle was commissioned before she was painted. Inathi, the eldest, was painted for a November show in 2025 and sold on the opening day. Hlengiwe, the seventh, was painted for a collector in Washington State, who chose her name. One sister is left, and her name begins with E. Martin will paint her for Impressions of Grace, the exhibition at Osner Gallery in Hout Bay that opens to the public on Saturday 28 November 2026, a celebration of all eight sisters. She will be painted either way, but she can only go to one home. If you would like the last sister to be yours, put your name down now: email info@osnergallery.com or call +27 21 790 6494.

Put your name down for the last sister

Looking back

The painter has found his voice

What strikes me most about this journey is how organic it has been. From the first experimental African Queen to Purple Reign, then the step into pure painting with Eliza, and on to this unexpected family of sisters, each step has led naturally to the next, guided by instinct rather than plan.

Ayanda is more than the third in a series. She is evidence that the most profound discoveries often happen not when we go searching for them, but when we simply follow our creative instincts wherever they lead.

The painter in me, it seems, has finally found his voice alongside the photographer.

Martin Osner

See the African Queen collection Ayanda in the gallery

Letters from the studio

The next story, in your inbox

New work and the stories behind it, exhibitions at the gallery and at INARA, and workshops with Samantha and Martin. Unsubscribe with one click, whenever you like.

We never share your address.

Paintings

Photo Alchemy

Photography

Read and watch

Just added

More collections