Danilo Deluxo, Designer of the 3D Toronto Sign, Is Colouring Canada’s Art Scene

Public art can be for anyone in the same way their meanings can differ for everyone: a counter to oppression, a contour of possibility, or simply an object to lean on. 

“Similar to my work with the Toronto sign, what I often try to do is a form of alchemy,” says Danilo Deluxo, the artist behind the first vinyl wrap on the very leaned-on 3D Toronto sign at Nathan Phillips Square. “I take all that negativity and lift it. I always want to make sure we’re presented in a bold, brilliant, and beautiful way.” Or in other words, the meaning is the meaning, rested backs or not.  

Despite Deluxo’s footprint on one of the most plainly recognizable landmarks of the city—fashioned as a symbol for Black excellence—the Toronto curator and multidisciplinary artist joins several other BIPOC artists often celebrated more for their craft over name-dropped praise; the art flaunts for itself. 

Deluxo’s award-winning work is part history lesson, and part possibility. Through the framework of Afrofuturism, his pieces are an examination of Black identity beyond the mundane limits of the everyday. To that effect, between 2013-2017 he served as the curator and creator of Black Future Month, an annual Afrofuturism exhibition that amassed international recognition and acclaim. And as a practicing artist, he’s produced murals and art projects globally as a member of Collective XYZ while also collaborating with BSAM Canada (The Black Speculative Art Movement). 

It’s been a decade’s long venture for Deluxo that’s now in a state of continuance. His latest: a curation of a massive, year-long street art exhibition known as ALL CITY SHINE with Downsview Park as the hub. Featuring 25 BIPOC artists and including ALLSTYLE—a 360-foot long mural of nine talented artists across the spectrum that explores identity, ancestry, and strength—the event is creating a space for Toronto’s BIPOC artists to shine as one.

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

This is a question I ask everyone, but how have you been dealing with the past year and a half? 
Automatically, it’s been heavy. It felt like an automatic thing last year to ask someone how they were doing and automatically understand that we were all going through it. I’ve been balancing everything with the reality of Breonna Taylor and George Floyd which made it an extra heavy time. But to be honest, at this point my wife and I are in a great place. We just had a baby.

“Similar to my work with the Toronto sign, what I often try to do is a form of alchemy. I take all that negativity and lift it. I always want to make sure we’re presented in a bold, brilliant, and beautiful way.”

Aww man, congrats!
Thanks, it’s been the most glorious thing. On top of that, just working on these projects have been great, from Artworxto to ALL CITY SHINE as a curator. Continuing to communicate, build with people, while taking the time for self-care has been so important. But I keep telling everyone that it’s the time to take it. You’ve been through all this all the time, it’s the time, there are no more excuses. 

“We were kings, queens, and architects of a reality that’s present today. That’s the power of Afrofuturism. It’s in the illumination of these alternate realities that can be our actual reality.”

Continuing the talk of influences. How did this love of Afrofuturism influence you?
It goes back to the ’80s. As soon as I found out about the Flux Capacitor for time travel, I knew Afrofuturism was it. Combining a love of speculative fiction, sci-fi, and film anime into these bridged narratives, while also depicting Black and people of colour in my work felt natural. For me, Afrofuturism is a way of life. It’s an outlet for perspective. Time is a continuum, it’s not linear, and the ancestors are still with us, walking with us now. I kind of think of it as creating alternative realities in mass media because we’re always painted in this monolithic lens. 

“The intent is to create a space for Black, Indigenous, Latin X, Asian, and BIPOC artists overall to do what already do. I feel when you’re given the space, you always come up with the greatest art.”

This might be a weird question to ask, but do you consider yourself a Black artist or just an artist?
Yeah, that’s the question. I have no problem with seeing myself as a Black artist or as simply an artist. It’s a conversation. I know people who’ve stopped doing Black History Month exhibitions because all of a sudden, they want every Black artist out there, but by March 1st the phone goes dry. I have no problem occupying the space though. It isn’t a quintessential part of my artistry alone, but it’s an important part. It’s always been about reflecting on my foundation and those of disenfranchised people for me. I always want to be in the position to paint us into the framework and make us know that we’re welcomed into these institutions, gallery settings, or in situations involving the Toronto sign. I love to see a child for example feel like they’re represented. 

It’s something I was curious about. There’s this idea of not wanting to be limited to themes around Blackness among some artists I’ve spoken to, which is a reflection of the questions they’re asked. I wondered if it was something you thought about. 
Yeah, I definitely thought about it during my career. Two things you said hit the nail on the head for me. I don’t feel limited by a label, but I also don’t need my work to say a particular thing. When you think of musicians like Outkast back in the day, being Black or a Black artist wasn’t an absolute limitation. I understand artists who don’t want the label. At the same time, I feel like whoever you are, or whatever your story is, all of that will come out in your work, directly or indirectly. It’s all good.  

Tell me more about the ALL CITY SHINE exhibition. What are you bringing to the table?
We really wanted to bring together an all-star cast of street artists, graphic artists, and muralists to celebrate what they’ve contributed to Toronto and beyond in terms of street art and the pushing of new narratives. The intent is to create a space for Black, Indigenous, Latin X, Asian, and BIPOC artists overall to do what already do. I feel when you’re given the space, you always come up with the greatest art. More often than not, you’re limited to a certain theme outside of what you’d normally do. But for us, it’s about making sure these voices are heard as they do their thing. 

You told me you’re a new father at the beginning of this chat. When you think about the way the world can impact one’s work, how is fatherhood impacting you and your career right now, even beyond the work?
It’s been a lot of glorious moments man. My wife and I experienced a lot of them daily, but also a ton of sleep deprivation. In terms of the work, it makes me want to create art with a more positive tone, as corny as that may sound. I want to paint a picture that my daughter can step into that’s healthy and optimistic kind of place. At the same time, we have to speak the truth on truth. Sometimes that’s ugly. I can imagine my child as a great artist someday, and by the time she grows up, she’ll be bored of that and maybe, she’ll want to be an astrophysicist. For me, it’s about trying to create a really open space for that.