Orlando Smith, known in the art world as O. Smith, has a resounding list of accomplishments. From pieces shown at the Oakland Museum of California to a new solo exhibit at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art (SFMOMA), his work has traveled far past the walls behind which he’s locked.
The exhibit highlights O. Smith’s narrative art, centering the prison as a site of societal subjugation within a larger carceral state and capitalist system. His witty, often satirical work draws connections between conditions of confinement, state repression, and historical social movements.
O. Smith’s art is “righteous, loud, and productive,” as described by curator Nancy Lim. He builds vibrant worlds depicting himself, his peers, and characters from across universes and worlds. Among his achievements, O. Smith has written 57 unpublished graphic novels.
In the 2026 edition of Verse and Vision, we feature a conversation between O. Smith and AOUON Newspaper Editor Uma Nagarajan-Swenson with contributions from Nancy Lim, Curator at SFMOMA, and Christine Lashaw, Director of Visual Arts for Liberation at Empowerment Ave. Many thanks to Holly Delany Cole, SFMOMA, and Empowerment Avenue.
Uma: Your voice, both artistically and in written form is so distinct. How did that develop?
O. Smith: When I was younger, my mother had to work while she was sick because she was fighting thyroid issues and she had to go to work. My father worked, so she would drop us off at this babysitter. I think I was in the fourth or fifth grade. My brother was in the sixth grade back then. She would drop us off in the morning and the lady would wave goodbye to my mother, and we’d go through the front door. She’d walk us right out the back into the garage. So we spent like a whole summer, at least eight, nine hours a day locked in the garage until an hour before my mother would come. Then she’d let us out, feed us dinner, and our mom would come pick us up and she’d wave to my mother like nothing ever happened. Being locked in that garage weighed on my brother. He would just turn around in circles and mumble a song lyric from a song over and over, it mentally wore on him. But I had a vivid imagination, so I would take movies I’d seen and just continue the story. I would just make stories up off the top of my head and entertain my brother and myself all the way until we got out And my mother would come and pick us up. So later, whether it was in county jail or, you know, awaiting trial, or in prison, in the SHU, I would just use my imagination and just escape prison. I also could draw, so I just combined the two and came up with a way of just telling stories. I don’t write down anything. I just memorize everything, even dialogue, and I visualize how I want to place the panels and things of that nature. It just comes pretty easy because I had developed it when I was young by being locked in the garage for the whole summer. It was the first time I ever did time, in the babysitter’s garage.
Uma: Your characters feel really complete and alive. I would love to hear about how you approach portraying people in your art.
O. Smith: That’s a great question, because the people here can be characters, you know, in their cells. It’s like, hey, here comes John, he’s something else. You have all these people with these incredible characteristic outlooks, and that’s what really humanizes them, right? Each human has their own flaws or suffered their own trauma. And when you get to talking to them, you see, man, this is my neighbor. This is my uncle. So when I talk to these residents here, you know, you could just hear it in their voice. You can hear the con man in people and you can hear the sincerity of people. After decades in here, you start saying, hey, you know what? This guy is fantastic. I’d like to do a story on him or I like to use his characteristics in one of my O. Smith Perspectives or The Gruelling Report. So just meeting people and talking to them, you know, everyone has a unique story.
Uma: What stands out to you particularly in O. Smith’s work?
Nancy: I think Orlando is so singular in terms of his clarity of voice, his clarity of conviction, his perspective, and his fearlessness, and all of that combined with this lived experience. You know, the combination of artistry and research is also highly unusual, and so it’s all these elements and how they come together, and these different bodies of work that he has that… It felt so important to feature, and also, very distinctive. And so there’s a few different reasons why I thought it would be so important and special to have Orlando’s work on view.
Christine: I think one thing that makes this body of work so unique is his origins as a comic artist and taking that format of telling stories, but also his beautiful illustrations. So he’s got these characters and drawings that really pull you in. But then the way he takes his comic book style and has applied it to the social justice conversation, different topics, it’s not normally what’s seen in a comic or a graphic novel. He’s using it in a journalistic approach. That is a really unique combination of using his art and his storytelling. He breaks down those stories in ways where you’re like, how does he even do that? The way he composes the protest posters, it’s like a puzzle piece of characters and figures and topics that are just so incredibly knit together to then create this one unique, beautiful, compelling piece that draws you in. You literally see people just like leaning in and looking at the details and it’s very unique, something that I’ve never seen before. And that’s the hook, the beauty in the images. And then you know, it pulls you in and you start reading. Some of those stories are so hard to sit with. But he breaks it down to five boxes where you’re like, wow.
Uma: The protest posters are so intricate, and your work contains so much information across so many subjects and social movements. I’m curious about your process of learning and researching and keeping everything in your head and conveying it onto the paper.
O. Smith: So with the protest poster, it started off a project that I was commissioned to do for the Ella Baker Center called Safety Night Out. The first one I ever did was for that, then I just started doing the protest posters because I would look at the news and you had all these protests going on, not just in America, but all over the world. Everybody was fighting for something that was right, or for human dignity or human rights. So I was like, wow, you know what? Let me continue this. So I’d do them and I would send them to outside organizations just to show my appreciation for reaching in here and helping us as residents.
We’re the lowest group of people on earth. When you talk about incarcerated people, they lock you away and they put you in these isolated prisons. So I wanted to show my appreciation by donating them to all these different organizations. And to Van Jones, when he had that organization, 350. One to Kim Kardashian, to Dr. Cornell West, Ruth Wilson Gilmore, man. For me, it was just important to show my appreciation. Then the year of the pandemic came, 2020. Our folks was out there protesting, and it was amazing. I always saw myself when I see all those young people out there protesting. I’d be like, man, if I was out, I’d be out there protesting with them. I’d be marching. So I just started conveying all the different topics and integrating, just putting everything in there like gumbo? Then I would sometimes draw myself in there. I would put cosplay characters and little hidden aliens and cartoon figures, incorporating all kinds of things.
I think I’m going to do protest posters forever. As long as we got problems, I’m always doing them. I noticed the protest poster, it catches the viewer’s attention. They don’t look at it and just walk away. And that was my intention. I use all these different little verses and poems and philosophers and all the quotes and whatnot to mix it all in.
Uma: So much of O. Smith’s art is deeply political in nature, and he touches on many different social movements. I’m curious as to how you see the role of art in those movements, both in his art and on a wider scale.
Nancy: Orlando often talked about his illustrations being a path to freedom, and that in your own mind, you can go anywhere. I have always found that to be such a powerful sentiment, especially, you know, I’d mentioned before, going into the galleries and watching people become instantly absorbed by his works. And I feel like the process of making those works for Orlando is an experience of freedom, and then for the visitor getting absorbed by these works, it’s a process of Orlando taking them on his journey, on his thoughts, on his stories, narratives. I think that gives people a sense of freedom, too. Maybe it’s whatever kind of freedom people want… it would be, obviously, a very different experience for each person, but for example, it could be just the freedom from oneself, at least for a minute, where you embark on a journey that someone else is taking you on.
Christine: Artwork and exhibitions are mechanisms for people to tell their own stories. Art has always been that space for voices to be heard, and Orlando’s is literally that. I think particularly for voices that are typically not lifted up in the mainstream, art is a way to connect with folks, both in the stories that are being told and just because images can be compelling in a way that connects with people. The impact of a strong visual image is a way to reach people and be in conversation. And that is what the movement for liberation is, is trying to make change. In particular, the work of the artists of Empowerment Avenue is focusing on a narrative change around stories of people that we don’t usually hear from. And it’s important to hear them. Art is that bridge to connect with people.
Uma: Could you share a bit about the process of creating this exhibit with Nancy and Christine?
O. Smith: First, let me just say this. I really believe in surrounding myself with good people, people you can rely on, people that are professional. And so it made the process a little bit easier. One of the toughest things is really when you’re sending the art out. In the past, art has come up missing after sending it out. And so that’s one of the most stressful things you can go through. But having Holly as my art lady, I can park all my art over there. Initially, when I was asked to do the show, I believe Nancy would go look over the art at Holly’s house and process and look through it. So we tried to build a theme. And the theme was first just around the coronavirus, what we suffered through. But I didn’t want it to be just that because it’s more than that. COVID-19 was just the event that happened, but it was so much more before and after. I wanted to really take it out like a journey. Nancy shared the vision with me and convinced her colleagues. And we went forward. They came up to visit me four or five times, and we went over blueprints and we brainstormed and they were very perceptive to my thought process.
Nancy: Once they were completed, he would be able to send a batch of his works out to Holly Delany Cole, who is is, among her many roles, basically his archivist, and the keeper of all of the works. So I would go to her house in Oakland, and lay them all out on the floor, on her tables, on her sofa so that I could see all of them together, and, over the course of multiple visits, it was a process of culling and developing the final checklist. We started from there, and then over the course of multiple visits and the culling that happened on each visit, we reduced the checklist down to about 21 works.
O. Smith: One of the things I was dead set against is being pigeon-toed as a “prison artist.” I’m just an artist that happened to be in prison. I took it very humbly and we just made it what it is. And I think narrative art right now is very important because younger people, especially in museum settings, are more visualized. They like to follow sequential movement. So sequential art gives them a better picture. It breaks up all those stereotypical thoughts about prison. My thought was, let’s combine everything. You know, people ride over the bridge and a lot of people see San Quentin and wonder what goes on in there. I think that was a better fit than just saying, hey, what went on during COVID-19? It wouldn’t have given people a big picture if they didn’t know how this place operated before and after. So that’s what I’ve set out to do, just give them a better perspective of life behind these walls. And to me, it’s really no excuse. This is a place, man, where you get here, you take advantage of opportunities to better yourself. I can understand not at other prisons because a lot of them just fall upon the politics. You’re either there, or you’re over here. There’s no room to wiggle. You’re stuck on a small yard, four buildings of angry people. So you have to survive the best you can. But when you get to a place like this, a level two, where it’s wide open, next to zero politics, you can really strive to be a better person. And I think that’s the whole idea of rehabilitation.
Nancy: Orlando really is one of the most extraordinary artists I’ve had the pleasure of working with, just at a person-to-person level. And aside from how fantastic his art is, I have so much admiration for him as a person. A lot of conversations that we have are very renewing for me. And he is so good at just continuing to move forward, regardless of what problems have come up, what obstacles because of CDCr, or whatever the case is. He has been able to help me keep my head up, and remember that you just need to keep at it, and be diligent, and just keep working, and hope for the best, and just be rational about it, and keep moving forward, and I have learned so much from him. He has been an extraordinary model for me in that regard. Whenever I talk about it, I get a little bit emotional. I have also learned so much in, having to navigate those larger structures around Orlando because that’s not an experience that I’ve had before. I haven’t worked with someone before who is currently incarcerated, and so this is my first time. This was my first time working with CDCr and working with organizations, such as Empowerment Avenue, but also the William James Association was really critical to enabling me to go inside to see Orlando, for in-person meetings. I think we were able to have 3 in-person meetings in total? There’s no substitute for those, when you need to look at a layout together, there’s a number of things there’s no way you can talk through, or email about. It was so important that I was able to do that. To experience the difficulty of navigating a structure like CDCr, but then having the wonderful, essential support of organizations like Empowerment Avenue and William James Association, it was this very interesting push-pull for me, and it was a whole other universe where I relied on these other organizations in order to find workarounds through the maze that is CDCr.
Uma: What do you hope visitors take away from this exhibit?
O. Smith: You know, there’s a narrative out here about incarcerated people: you see it on TV and these movies and it’s so stereotypical that you see people in here and they’re animalistic and brutal and all this. Prison is set up for people to continue their behavior. But there’s great people here and they’re very creative people. When visitors come, I want them to see the harsh reality of what incarcerated people go through. It goes beyond just being sentenced from the court to stay in prison: it becomes a secondary process of punishment, where your dignity is taken, where you’re constantly harassed and traumatized. I want people to understand that true rehabilitation is possible and it’s been shown that so many great people get out. So when they see the art, I want them to say, hey, you know what? This is a human. You know, this isn’t a movie character or, you know, this narrative that certain state officials have framed around incarcerated people or used as political junk, as I call it, a political theater. I want people to look and realize that when they passed all these harsh laws, mostly to people of color, they had no long-term plan for what it would do. Not only to their own communities and families, but also what it would do to the taxpayers. People grow old behind bars, and medical costs are charged to the taxpayers. People grow old and they age out of crime, and some rehabilitate themselves, others start programs in here. And with all the crime that’s going on out there with youth, we are the only ones with enough experience to really reach them. No one from a fancy university is going to be able to talk to these young people and say, hey, this is where your behavior is going to lead. So when you see the art, that’s what I’m really just trying to convey to the public.
Nancy: I also hope visitors take away the level of creativity, research, intellect, artistry, and work ethic that exists in places like San Quentin. And spirit, because Orlando’s works are tonally very spirited. In the intro text, I describe them as righteous, loud, and productive. That’s exactly what they are. Just that level of fearlessness and demanding that his voice be part of the larger conversation, regardless of whether he is incarcerated or not. I think that his voice really speaks loudly when people enter the galleries.
Christine: I hope that people see the humanity of people who just happen to be incarcerated, and understand the nuances of the stories and really just see the people and the system for what it really is. See what’s buried and tucked behind prison walls, meant for nobody to see that it’s critical for us to see. I hope it opens people’s eyes to what’s actually happening in our society and through mass incarceration.
Uma: There are so many artists whose visions are locked behind bars. Do you have words of wisdom or messages for our readers?
O. Smith: ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE! Deal with people who have the same goals as you do, that share the same interests, that are motivated and driven. As far as art goes, don’t take short cuts, if you copy something, do it in your own style, that’s important. Being slick won’t work. Conduct yourselves in a professional manner, always. You doing time, perfect your craft because you have the time. Find out what’s important to you, the biggest mistake people make is not having a realistic plan. Shit ain’t been easy for me, I learnt to lean into discomfort, too often I’ve seen dudes give up way too early and rob themselves of an opportunity to grow and adapt. You have to envision yourself winning, this makes you unstoppable.
O. Smith: Artivist will be on view at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art until July 4, 2027.
All artworks in this spread by O. Smith.
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