Blending Heritage and Technology: How Wuh Ey Is Reimagining Digital Art

For many artists, technology arrives as a tool. For Wuh Ey, it became more of a creative catalyst.

The Franco-Togolese digital artist has built a distinctive visual language that merges photography, artificial intelligence, and cultural memory. His images often feel like fragments of larger stories; cinematic moments suspended in time, filled with colour, symbolism, and hidden identities.

Speaking with Grix Magazine, Wuh Ey reflects on how curiosity, heritage, and experimentation led him toward a new kind of artistic practice.

From Traditional Photography to AI Exploration

Before experimenting with AI, Wuh Ey’s creative foundation was rooted in traditional art and photography. After studying art formally, he spent years working with more conventional photographic methods.

Then life interrupted the process.

“I took a long break,” he explains.

When he eventually discovered AI tools, the exploration began casually, almost like a creative experiment.

“At first it was like a game,” he says. “I was just curious about what it could do.”

But the more he experimented, the more he realised the technology could become something much bigger than a novelty.

“It’s not just about typing prompts,” he says. “There’s a whole creative process behind it.”

Today his workflow blends multiple media. AI-generated elements often serve as a starting point, but they are refined through photography techniques, editing, and digital manipulation with tools like Photoshop.

“It’s always a mix,” he explains. “AI, photography, and traditional techniques all working together.”

Returning to Cultural Roots

While the technology opened new creative possibilities, it also pushed Wuh Ey to reflect more deeply on his identity.

Growing up between cultures, his early work often drew on visual influences from the environments around him. When he first began experimenting with AI tools, he noticed something unexpected about the images he was creating.

“They looked very European,” he says.

The realisation made him pause.

“I thought, ‘Wait, this isn’t really me.’”

That moment led him back to his roots. Recently, he returned to Lomé, Togo, photographing landscapes, textures, and cultural details that would later become part of his digital compositions.

Those experiences now form the visual foundation of much of his work.

“I began feeding my own world into the tools,” he explains.

Heritage as a Launchpad

For Wuh Ey, heritage is not a limitation or a strict reference point. Instead, it acts as a starting place, a launchpad for broader cultural exploration.

Growing up in the 1980s and 1990s, his influences stretched far beyond geography. Music videos, fashion, and global pop culture all play a role in shaping the imagery he produces.

“My work is a mix of everything,” he says.

African symbols often appear in his pieces, but they coexist with references from across the African diaspora.

“I want my work to speak to everyone,” he explains. “Not just one part of the world.”

AI as a Creative Equaliser

Beyond its artistic potential, Wuh Ey believes AI also offers something practical for emerging creatives,  especially those working with limited resources.

Traditional photography projects often require large teams, professional lighting setups, elaborate sets, and actors. For many artists, those production costs can make ambitious ideas difficult to execute.

AI changes that equation.

“With AI you can build an entire world,” he says.

For artists with strong ideas but smaller budgets, the technology can act as a powerful creative boost.

“It allows you to show what you could do with a massive production,” he explains, “without needing that huge initial investment.”

Building Stories Through “Cinematic Stills”

One of the defining characteristics of Wuh Ey’s work is the sense that each image belongs to a larger narrative.

He describes many of his pieces as “cinematic stills” — images that feel like a moment extracted from a film.

But unlike traditional filmmaking, the story surrounding the image is intentionally incomplete.

“I like to build tension,” he says.

Rather than planning elaborate storyboards, he focuses on creating emotional ambiguity.

“It’s like a sentence that’s been cut halfway,” he explains. “You don’t know what happened before or what will happen after.”

The result is a feeling he describes as being in a “floating mode,” where the viewer becomes part of the story.

The Power of Hidden Identity

That sense of mystery extends into one of his most personal projects: “But You Don’t See Me.”

The work explores the idea of visibility; the ways people can be present and expressive while remaining partially hidden.

In many ways, the project reflects Wuh Ey’s own artistic persona.

His chosen name is itself a kind of mask.

“Wuh Ey isn’t my real name,” he says.

The pseudonym allows him to move more freely as a creator, experimenting with ideas and identities without the weight of public expectations.

“It’s that in-between state,” he explains. “Being visible but not completely understood.”

Masks, Symbols, and Cultural Motifs

Recurring visual symbols appear throughout Wuh Ey’s work.

Cowrie shells, vibrant patterns, layered textures, and elaborate jewellery often find their way into his compositions. But one motif stands out above the rest.

“The mask,” he says.

Sometimes the face is hidden behind a traditional mask. Other times it’s obscured by clothing, shadows, or balaclavas.

Regardless of the form it takes, the idea remains the same: identity as something fluid, layered, and occasionally concealed.

Navigating the Debate Around AI Art

The rise of AI-generated imagery has sparked debate within the art world, with critics questioning whether it should be considered “real” art.

For Wuh Ey, those conversations feel familiar.

“I studied art history,” he says. “There have always been gatekeepers.”

Photography itself once faced similar criticism. So did graffiti and digital art.

Because of that history, he sees the scepticism as part of a larger pattern.

“I do the work for myself,” he says. “If people connect with it, that’s great.”

Legal debates surrounding AI-generated work — particularly copyright restrictions in places like the United States, are still evolving. But Wuh Ey believes the discussion will eventually catch up to the reality of how artists use the tools.

“There are still a lot of people don’t understand about the creative process behind it,” he says.

Recognition and Validation

Despite entering the field relatively recently, Wuh Ey’s work has already gained international recognition.

He won first place at Photopia in Hamburg and later exhibited at WMF in Bologna, sharing space with established photographers and visual artists.

For someone who initially approached AI art as a hobby, the recognition has been both surprising and affirming.

“To be invited to exhibitions and shown alongside artists I admire, it makes me feel like I belong here,” he says.

A Visual Language Shaped by Culture

Beyond heritage and technology, another influence runs quietly through Wuh Ey’s work: nostalgia.

Jewellery, chains, and bold accessories frequently appear in his images, echoing the aesthetics of early hip-hop culture and pop icons of the 1980s and 1990s.

“It goes back to things like Mr. T and that early ‘bling-bling’ culture,” he says with a laugh.

For him, those visual references form part of a shared cultural language that stretches across continents.

“They connect different parts of the Black experience,” he explains. “From Brazil to America to Africa.”

And in Wuh Ey’s work, those worlds continue to collide,  blending past, present, technology, and heritage into something entirely new.