Ferg Reimagined: How the Rapper Found Freedom in Visual Art

In a world often quick to categorize and confine artists to a single craft, A$AP Ferg emerges not merely as a rapper but as a multifaceted creator, fearlessly expanding his artistic empire beyond the rhythmic confines of hip-hop into the vibrant, tangible realm of visual art.

This transformative journey, deeply rooted in self-discovery and an innate drive to inspire, marks a pivotal new chapter for the artist now known simply as Ferg, underscored by his introspective album Darold and a groundbreaking art show held in April that truly unmasks the man behind the music. The genesis of this visual odyssey was, surprisingly, born out of necessity and a divine nudge.

"My creative kept falling through when it came down to shooting the album cover," Ferg recounts to BLEU, detailing the frustrations that inadvertently pushed him towards a profound realization. "I had to depend on myself. And I just realized all that was happening was God trying to show me you could do it yourself."

Ferg had a long-dormant desire to integrate his artwork with his music. This internal shift was accompanied by a weariness of hesitation where he was tired of knowing there was an idea, but he just didn't capitalize on it. The art show, therefore, was not merely an exhibition but a deeply personal accomplishment.

When asked about his primary goal for this new endeavor, Ferg simply states, "I accomplished it already. I just wanted to do it. That's all. Just get it off. Just get it out of me."

While many might perceive this as a pivot, for Ferg, visual art is not a departure but an intrinsic extension of his being, deeply interwoven with his musical identity. He unequivocally states he would never leave his music career behind as it's a wellspring for other creative expressions to flow.

"I would never leave music alone," says Ferg. "The music inspires the visuals you see on the wall. The music inspires the fashion you see me wear. It all works in tandem with each other. I can never leave one thing alone. I just use them to bounce off each other."

This interconnectedness suggests a holistic artistic philosophy where different mediums are merely various channels for a singular creative force. He views art and music as fundamentally the same, embodying a profound synesthesia.

Ferg further elaborates on this sensory cross-pollination by claiming he sees colors when he hears sounds and is "painting videos on a wall." This perspective transforms art from a static medium into an immersive experience, akin to watching a TV show, a play, or a concert. Ferg's artistic roots run deep, too, tracing back to his formative years in Harlem.

"The first piece I ever done I drew a standing dog or a wolf," recalls Ferg. "I was laying in the car, and my father was hanging out with his friends inside the barbershop; I was sleeping in the car while the grown-ups were doing their thing. When I woke up, my father gave me some drawing materials cause I asked for a drawing book and colored pencils."

He adds, "So he grabbed red and blue pens and whatever colors he could find at the corner store and I drew this dog and was very excited. That was my first time drawing it. I don't know what inspired me to draw a dog. After I finished, my father's friends all signed it. I thought it was the dopest thing ever."

This nascent passion quickly evolved into a burgeoning business as Ferg started painting characters onto t-shirts, which his father taught him how to do. Ferg's entrepreneurial spirit flourished in junior high, where he would charge classmates for custom designs, gradually increasing his prices from $30 to $120. This early experience in selling his art made Ferg understand how to bring business into the equation while also knowing his self-worth.

"Being a musician or whatever, coming up in the game, I never really charged people for music because I didn't want to," says Ferg. "If I'm charging you for music or anything else, I shouldn't even be working with you. It's all about connections."

Ferg's formal artistic education at the High School of Art & Design in New York City further cemented his path. This period was less about structured learning and more about finding a creative community. "It was me being able to meet my peers," he states, citing a significant connection with Awol Erizku, a prominent artist and his classmate, who shot "Get High," one of Ferg's first music videos.

This environment fostered a sense of belonging and helped him refine his unique artistic voice: "We all joked the same, laughed the same, liked the same things, and we just formed that camaraderie, and it helped me find my individuality with other guys in a community that was like me."

Ferg identifies his artistic style as predominantly abstract, a genre with which he deeply resonates. His introduction to abstract art was memorable, occurring at a Lost Boys studio session when he was only a child. In the lounge area outside the studio, he encountered art on the wall that didn't immediately make sense.

"I said, 'What does that mean?' Like why? Like it don't look like nothing. It's just all over the place. It's just colors and stuff," he says while stating his father's simple explanation was a revelation. "He said, 'That's called abstract.' And I was open after that."

In addition to his late father, Ferg's artistic inspirations span across various influential artists, including Picasso, Carol Walker, Francis Bacon, Hype Williams, Damian Hurst, Keith Haring, Takashi Murakami, and George Condo.

Among his own works, the album cover for Darold holds a special place in Ferg's heart because of how beautifully brown skin appears on a canvas. Ferg has a deep appreciation for seeing African-American people depicted on canvas in various forms of artwork, whether in abstract or animated forms. Other notable pieces created by Ferg, on display at his exhibit, include "Allure" and a painting inspired by Michael Jackson's purchase of The Beatles' iconic catalog.

Beyond personal expression, Ferg imbues his art with a powerful social purpose. Hailing from Harlem, he is acutely aware of the systemic lack of resources for kids to pursue creative opportunities. He views his journey as a beacon of hope for children seeking to express themselves. That's also the reason why he intentionally stayed in his community, even after achieving success, to demonstrate that "everything was possible" and that "there's always a way."

Ferg's philosophy for kids looking to create expands beyond traditional art forms, which encompasses the very essence of human existence: "You could literally take spaghetti, sauce, and a table cloth and you know a wall and spread that color around a wall and create art. So there's no such thing as you can't create art or it's not available to us because we are already art. We're made of creation."

To Ferg, art is inherent in everyday life because he feels the way we think, strategize, and plan is an art form. Art can be found in the way money is made, the way clothes are put on, and even in the decision to take a specific direction home. This expansive view of artistry underscores his mission to inspire innovation, even if it touches just one person.

The most significant aspect of this new chapter is Ferg's decision to shed the "A$AP" moniker, a move that symbolizes a profound personal and artistic evolution. For him, it's about authentic self-expression: "I look at it as like it's just you just branching out on your own and letting people know this is who I am outside of the group and what not."

He acknowledges A$AP's monumental impact on hip-hop as one of the "greatest things that ever happened" in the genre and makes it clear he still has love for his former groupmates. However, various members have gotten older and branched out into different fields, and Ferg says it's only right that he gives that "individual growth" a chance.

When signing his artwork, Ferg uses "Darold Brown," his given name, making a clear distinction: "It's not ASAP Ferg or Ferg. Nothing to do with the music part. It's like giving myself as an artist and as an individual a chance."

This rebranding is also deeply tied to the vulnerability he explores in his new album, which is named after him. He began his career as D Ferg, then Ferg, before the "A$AP" layers were added. Ferg likened the idea to "peeling layers back" to get to who he is because he has put on so many layers already. There's his beloved "Trap Lord" persona, which he says is "an alter ego to like just get through life."

Beyond artistic identity, the change also reflects a desire for simple human connection, and looking forward, Ferg is most excited about embracing the unknown. He acknowledges that the unknown is a frightening place, but the philosophy that keeps him going is staying rooted in the present to where he doesn't care about what comes his way.

Ferg believes being present allows one to maintain control over one's physical self and avoid depression, transcending anxieties about the future or even mortality. That also helps him deal with the idea of success in the entertainment industry.

Ferg's definition of success diverges sharply from societal norms. He doesn't seek accolades or external validation. "I don't think about that shit," he says, dismissing the pursuit of awards as "an ego thing." Having never even aspired to be a rapper, he continues to simply "do shit I like to do."

Success is also deeply personal and impactful for Ferg. Living in a society that prioritizes accolades can make it harder for people to understand the true meaning of success, and that is what truly makes a person happy. The true reward lies in the human connection forged through his art.

"When people say like, 'Yo, your music changed my life.' That's the biggest accolade I can get," he says, deeply moved by stories of his music helping someone through college or even chemotherapy. This spiritual connection is paramount and his art is for himself and for those who connect with his authentic vision.

The next steps for Ferg after achieving success in music and art is that there isn't any. He says he's succeeding in music and just making art, therefore his journey is boundless. It's about doing whatever makes him happy, and Ferg is not just expanding his artistry; he is defining it on his own terms.

"Whether it's directing, whether it's designing, whether it's paint on walls, whether it's performance art, whatever it is, I'm just fucking picking things up and putting them down," says Ferg. "And that's what life is all about."