“Where is your watch, Beau?” Olaolu Slawn turns to his toddler and asks. “Why are you checking your wrist? It’s not on your wrist,” he laughs. The missing timepiece in question is a Swatch, with doodles of skateboards decorating the strap. Here’s hoping the heist will be over before bedtime.

Call it DNA, but Beau’s father, a contender for one of London’s most lauded artists right now, likes his watches, too. We meet first, two weeks earlier, amidst an ensemble of high-vis vests constructing a marquee in front of a small hotel in Clerkenwell. The marquee is proving quite a nuisance actually, as it’s blocking off the entrance from plain sight. As such, the bearer of a crochet bucket hat looks to be lost for a second as it paces around the oversized tent. Slawn is due to arrive any second now. Is this him? The bucket hat turns left, turns right, before eventually rounding the corner, tailed by a cloud from a vape. The artist has arrived.

It’s uncharacteristically hot, even though it’s May and British forecasts aren’t anything to scream about. We’ve got an hour and a half to capture the essence of the Nigerian artist, whose schedule is at boiling point. He’s due to celebrate a milestone announcement later that evening, joining forces with the FA to create a unique replica trophy for the Emirates FA Cup Final. Time is of the essence.

Slawn adds a 24th candle to his cake later this year, but the accolades far surpass his years. From co-owning an apparel brand in Lagos, before moving to the UK in 2019 to study graphic design at Middlesex University, he adds modelling for Mowalola, collabs with Central Cee, Skepta and the late Virgil Abloh to his roster, while becoming the youngest and first Nigerian-born artist to design a Brit Award. All of that, while owning a coffee-shop dedicated to his son, and being a father.

There’s beating the clock, and then there’s moving faster than time itself, which Slawn seems to do without pause since our first venture near Hatton Gardens, London’s historic jewellery district. His power reserve feels limitless and yet he moves with an aura of spontaneity, never quite knowing where he’s going to be next. We meet again through the ether of the internet. During which, a doorbell goes, an urgent text message gets sent, and there’s a shifting of rooms while we call. It’s a state of impulse that he carries through his work, articulating large-scale cartoon-like caricatures onto canvases, illustrated with spray paint and marker pen. Excelling so furtively during such a short space period means that Slawn is now taking time into his own hands, in every which way, bringing his signature vibrant sketches to a pocket-sized canvas: a watch dial. Roughing up a Rolex like you’ve never seen before, the Nigerian aesthete wants to talk about why we shouldn’t always be taking luxury too seriously. “I’m not an artist, I paint like a six-year-old,” he pens in his Instagram bio. More of the irrational childlike dreaming, says Slawn. It’s time to grow back down again.

Slawn, your bio makes me think a lot of childhood innocence. Can you remember having a watch on your wrist when you were younger?
I think my Dad might’ve got me one, I don’t really remember. Oh no wait, tell a lie. My cousin gave me a G-Shock when he came back from America. I was around 11-years-old and it was bright yellow with a black face. The battery died, but I still wore it all the time.

Would you still wear them now?
I’ve got loads. I’ve got like 12 of them upstairs. They’re cool.

Everything in your orbit is centred around creating. Are you ever looking at a watch as a piece of art?
I think everything is an art form, whether you’re making it, speaking it, or being political. They’re all just different forms. A lot goes into making sure a watch is unique, but also that it works. It’s like a canvas on your wrist that you can walk around with.

Do you think there’s a precedent on minimalism in watches compared to more abstract forms of art?
There’s watches that are really crazy and go into extravagant detail, but I feel like entry level watches, no one’s really brave enough to do something different because they’re scared of it looking too tacky. But sometimes tacky is fun, and it’s about reminding people to enjoy things a bit more.

How long does it take you to create a painting directly on a canvas from ideation to finished product?
Some can take me 10 minutes. Some of the best work I’ve made is ten minutes of perfect flow. Sometimes, it can take me a good month of retouching and retouching before it gets to that point. A lot of the time, if you like to execute by taking your time, that’s one way. Some people prefer to execute quickly and efficiently and that’s how I like to do things.

Can you remember your first watch that you bought?
In 2022, I bought my first Rolex Datejust. It has an Arabic dial with a blue face and I like that kinda thing. Actually wait, my first watch I bought myself was a Cartier Santos when I was 21. I had started making a little bit of money, and before that I’d never paid mad attention to watches because I thought they were really expensive. But then I got to a point where I could afford a watch, and so I did it. It had a metal bracelet, the face wasn’t too big, a classic white face.

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