<blockquote><h1>“What I love most about ceramics is that it's like turning drawings into real, tangible things.”</h1></blockquote>&nbsp;We're meeting in Amsterdam Noord, your home turf. What was it like growing up here?KB: “As a child I was always making something. I'd spend hours drawing and copying my older brother's creations, and later in high school, I designed my own diaries. I come from an artistic family: my mum was a kindergarten teacher, my dad a mime artist, and my grandmother a portrait silhouette artist. I spent a lot of time in theaters and museums—not the modern ones, more like the Rijksmuseum. I originally wanted to be a mime like my dad, but after several failed auditions, my brother, who was already studying at the Design Academy in Eindhoven, suggested I try art school. That's how I ended up auditioning for the Rietveld Academy.”&nbsp;While at Rietveld: did you start working with ceramics immediately, or was it a longer process?KB: “During my time at Rietveld, I had the opportunity to explore various art forms. I enjoyed each one of them, but I felt the need to specialize. I wanted to excel in one thing. I initially chose ceramics, thinking I might switch to fine arts or audiovisuals later. However, as I immersed myself in ceramics, I realized it was the perfect medium for my narratives. Today, I have such a deep understanding of ceramics that I can use it to effectively tell my stories.”

<blockquote><h1>“Working with ceramics brings me joy because it turns simple materials into meaningful art.”</h1></blockquote>&nbsp;So that's where Koos Buster, the ceramic artist, was born. Just to confirm, Koos Buster is your real name, right?KB: "Yes, I'm named after Koos, my father's best friend. They agreed at sixteen that if they had sons, they would name them after each other. My brother was born first and named Wout after another friend. Koos was disappointed, so my father promised that the next son would be named Koos. However, my father thought I looked more like a Buster when I was born, so everybody knows me as Buster.It wasn't until I graduated from Rietveld that I decided to use Koos Buster as my artist name. My work has a personal quality, so working under my first two names felt fitting.&nbsp;I enjoy having two names because I can use them as characters in my own mind. When I'm alone in the studio, I have no one to brainstorm with, but this way, I can spark ideas with myself, sometimes even out loud. Koos is a bit more conservative, and Buster is a bit more daring. It's kind of a joke, but it works well because I can express both sides and have internal discussions or conversations. It's like saying, 'Yeah, you're right. Okay, let's go!' and it feels really good."

<blockquote><h1>“Creativity has a lot to do with keeping a childlike sense of wonder and embracing naive playfulness…but it's also serious work.”</h1></blockquote>&nbsp;What is so appealing about ceramics?KB: "What I love most about ceramics is that it's like turning drawings into real, tangible things. Making something from nothing is incredibly rewarding. It's about paying attention to the beauty of objects and giving them importance. Working with ceramics brings me joy because it turns simple materials into meaningful art. I love creating items that people can use and appreciate in their homes.&nbsp;You graduated with a ceramic cleaning cart and have since turned every day, even mundane, objects like light switches and cigarette butts into sculptures. What fascinates you about these objects?KB: “It all started with making clay versions of things that usually go unnoticed and putting them on a pedestal to give them some love. It was like saying, 'Hey, I'm glad you're here.' That was the beginning, and it grew from there. There's also a bit of nostalgia involved, wanting to keep things that might disappear. Turning these objects into sculptures gives them a lasting place.It's also connected to my view on well-being and fairness. It bugs me how some people get more attention than others or are considered more important. I don't get that because everyone has a story to tell and one that is worth listening to. This inequality really bothers me, so I channel these feelings into objects. By focusing on overlooked items, I'm challenging what society considers worthy of attention and value.”

Can you tell us more about your creative process?KB: “I draw inspiration from many different places. Walking around the city and noticing interesting objects also sparks new ideas for me. But I get especially fired up when I go to concerts. Watching performers who are genuinely passionate about their craft fills me with ideas. It's not that I want to replicate what they do, but their energy and creativity motivate me to create.”&nbsp;So, no equivalent of writer's block, then?KB: “Not really. When I don't know what to do, I start making some of my best-selling items, like the clay sockets and fire alarms, my non-limited editions. And I also have a long list of things I still want to make, so I can always return to that.”&nbsp;Failure is always an option with any creative process, maybe even more so when working with delicate materials. How do you deal with frustrations like that?KB: I've spent so many hours working with clay that fewer things break now. I've learned how the clay behaves, but sometimes things still go wrong, usually because I'm a bit careless with the material. The most important thing is drying the clay properly. Too much wind or leaving the door open too long can cause cracks. It's crucial to wedge the clay properly, removing air and ensuring the molecules are mixed well.&nbsp;But even with practice, things can still go wrong or break. But I'm not really too bothered by that. And when something breaks in a museum or gallery, I feel bad for the person who broke it, but the piece itself is insured, so I don't feel angry or frustrated about it."

You're very productive and have show after show lined up. Do you ever feel pressure to constantly produce new work?KB: "Not really. I enjoy what I do and love experimenting. I aim to make each exhibition as good as or even better than the last. The key is to keep enjoying the process and not worry too much about external expectations.I'm not insecure about my work, but sometimes my friends' comments can make me doubt myself. They'll say things like, ‘You should try something different,’ or 'Aren't you tired of doing the same thing?' And the answer is no! I'm having a blast exploring new things. I've been doing more installations lately, creating scenes with various objects instead of individual pieces. It's like a tableau, and I'm really enjoying it.I've also been working with glass, and I'm making wooden tables for a museum in Arnhem, which is a new experience for me. So, I'm not doing the same thing at all. And even if I continue working with the same medium, repeating myself, it's unfair to dismiss my work like that. It's like telling a great cartoonist to make something other than a comic, or telling Dick Bruna that he should stop drawing lines and bunnies. It's weird and doesn't make any sense to me."&nbsp;<blockquote><h1>“It's not a hobby. It's my job. One that allows me to support my family, and I'm proud of that.”</h1></blockquote>

<blockquote><h1>“I didn't have a natural talent for sculpting or drawing precise sketches. However, I improved significantly through persistent practice and learning from my mistakes.”</h1></blockquote>&nbsp;You have two young kids, how has becoming a father affected your work?KB: "Since becoming a father, my work has definitely changed. My priorities have shifted. Before, I spent much more time in the studio, experimenting with different techniques all day. But now that time is more limited.I also decided to stop drinking because I wanted to use my time more efficiently. In the past, I could spend my free days relaxing and maybe drinking, but now I prefer to spend that time with my family and doing productive work. I now work four days a week, from 10 to 5, and during that time, I need to be focused and get my work done. This has taught me to work much more efficiently and be goal-oriented with my time.As for creativity, I don't believe in the myth that you can only be creative under certain conditions. Inspiration often comes at the most unexpected moments. It's about being open to inspiration and being able to translate it into your own medium, in my case, clay. So, although I spend less time in the studio, my time there has become much more valuable and productive. And at home, I am truly present, which is essential."

What is your view on creativity?KB: "Creativity has a lot to do with keeping a childlike sense of wonder and embracing naive playfulness. It's about letting things happen naturally. But it's also serious work.Creativity is very broad—you can be a creative architect or even a creative banker. It's about being true to yourself in your work, and that's something I take very seriously. Some artists focus on profound concepts, while others, like me, thrive on spontaneity and play. But it's still work. I enjoy what I do but can't stand it when people say, 'Oh, you just get to play all day in the studio. That must be fun for you, right?' It's not a hobby. It's my job. One that allows me to support my family, and I'm proud of that. Although sometimes, I yearn for the freedom to create without pressure. Ideally, I would just sculpt and not worry about where it's going."&nbsp;Do you believe you can learn to be creative, or is it something innate?KB: "You can definitely learn to become more creative. I enjoy comparing it to Ronaldo and Messi. I don't like either of them, but Ronaldo might be less naturally gifted than Messi. Messi has a lot of raw talent and works hard, too, but not as hard as Ronaldo. Ronaldo has always been wholly dedicated, constantly practicing and improving. He has talent, but his success comes more from his relentless effort.I see myself more like Ronaldo than Messi. I might have less natural talent than others, but I excel in other areas, like creative thinking. For instance, I didn't have a natural talent for sculpting or drawing precise sketches. However, I improved significantly through persistent practice and learning from my mistakes. I believe you can develop talent or creativity through persistence. And as for ceramics. Anyone can sculpt, but for some, it just takes longer than for others."

<blockquote><h1>“I don't believe in the myth that you can only be creative under certain conditions. Inspiration often comes at the most unexpected moments. It's about being open to inspiration and being able to translate it into your own medium, in my case, clay.”</h1></blockquote>

KOOSBUSTER.png

Dutch artist Koos Buster has captured a growing audience with his unique clay sculptures of everyday objects. Since graduating from the Gerrit Rietveld Academy six years ago, the self-proclaimed Minister of Ceramic Affairs has showcased his work in numerous art galleries and museum exhibitions. Working from his studio in Amsterdam Noord, the neighborhood where he was born and raised, Buster has become a leading figure in the modern ceramics scene.

KOOS BUSTER: THE POSTERBOY OF MODERN CERAMICS

<blockquote><h1>“Skateboarding was definitely a creative outlet.&nbsp;The physical act of skateboarding is pure creativity.”</h1></blockquote>&nbsp;Were you always creative, even as a kid?ET: "I think so. But to be honest, I don't even know if I think of myself as creative. I guess I am, based on my life and what I've done. And people tell me I'm creative, but I&nbsp;don’t walk around thinking I'm a creative guy or something. It's all been problem-solving within given structures."&nbsp;What is your definition of creativity?ET: "For me, creativity is&nbsp;mostly&nbsp;building on existing structures. Let's say you want to create a completely new piece of music. Something&nbsp;nobody has ever heard before, something completely foreign. Chances are you're going to alienate a lot of people simply because&nbsp;there will be no reference point. There will&nbsp;probably&nbsp;be some people who will think it is genius. But most people would consider it too&nbsp;far out&nbsp;in left field.&nbsp;In my example you need&nbsp;an existing song structure with a beat and lyrics, and then you can play with,&nbsp;and tweak those elements. And to me, creativity lives in that structure."&nbsp;

I love the music analogy, but how does that correlate to your own work?&nbsp;ET: "Over the years, I've been asked to design skate shoes and the box they come in. And then you realize that within that structure, there's not a lot of wiggle room. I mean, a shoe is a shoe. There's not a lot you can&nbsp;do.&nbsp;You’re not going to reinvent the wheel there. In the end, everyone wants to have a shoe that works and that they can skateboard in. So all you're changing is the materials on the shoe, the look of the shoe, and then maybe the box. So it's extremely limiting in some ways. But that's where the creativity comes in.&nbsp;You try to come up with new ways to push what is possible within the given parameters.”&nbsp;<div class="raw-html-embed"><iframe width="800" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/3ymKHBPVsKA?si=hbKFlJbdDwyIo4XJ&amp;controls=0&amp;start=7" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen=""></iframe></div>&nbsp;So, creativity requires constraints?ET: "It doesn’t require them, but in reality most creativity is done within them. I'll give you another example. I make photo books. And so I'm constantly thinking about how to&nbsp;do something different with my books. I want my books to look different from every other photo book. But I also don't want to go so far where I'm just doing something crazy&nbsp;for the sake of it.&nbsp;So, I try to do something a little different. My bigger books are more traditional, like the recent one that just came out, but I do try to play with the structure of what's possible.&nbsp;But the book is only a conduit for the pictures themselves, it shouldn’t be about the book, but about the pictures. Again, very limiting, but that’s where the fun is, trying to make it your own. Deanna and I made this accordion-style book together, and I got a lot of praise for&nbsp;the fun design, but in all fairness, that wasn't me. My publisher came to me and said that one of his artists was making a very specific size book, which meant he was left with a big strip of paper&nbsp;trimmed off these giant sheets that would be wasted. He asked me if I had any ideas for that. So, I can't claim any creative genius there. It was just problem-solving. Someone came to me and said, hey, I don't want this paper to go to waste, and I happened to have a project that would fit nicely on the strip of wasted paper. It was a win-win situation: no wasted paper, and we got to make a cool book. Problem solved. But the&nbsp;amazing thing is that&nbsp;the photographs in that project were chosen to be exhibited at the Pier 24 Photography Museum in San Francisco, and eventually ended up in the collection of The Museum of Modern Art in New York!"

<blockquote><h1>“Creativity is also being ready for those opportunities&nbsp;when they come."</h1></blockquote>&nbsp;The ripple effect is in full swing.ET: “Yes. Creativity is also being ready for those opportunities&nbsp;when they come. With the book, a strange opportunity arose. If I hadn't had an idea, someone else would have taken that strip of paper and done something with it. But I was ready at the moment. And that's a big part of creativity: being ready for it. It's what athletes always say: be ready for the moment. Have projects you're juggling and working on and thinking about all the time so that when that opportunity arises, you have something to fill it.”&nbsp;Speaking of juggling work. You make books. You work as a photographer. You have your own skateboard company. You create works of art. In short, you have a lot of different canvases to work on. How does that work in your brain? Do you have an idea and then figure out what outlet works best? Or is your work much more compartmentalized?&nbsp;ET: "It is a little bit compartmentalized, although there's been a lot of bleed-over through the years in different ways. But the compartmentalization has almost always been part of it. The art I make for skateboard graphics is so different from the paintings I do or the skate photographs, which are much more grittier. So on the creation side, it is very compartmentalized, but it doesn't work that way in my brain: there, it's much more fluid.&nbsp;The thing is, all these outlets have a different audience. So when I'm doing a skate graphic, I get into a skateboard mindset, and I think about me as a, you know, a 15-year-old boy going into a skate shop. And how I loved looking up at the boards and checking all the graphics and everything like that. So when I get in my skate world, I get into my skate head. There have been crossovers where I'm doing something in the fine art world, and an idea pops up for a skateboard graphic, and there have been times when I've used drawings that I've done as skateboard graphics. So, my fine art practice blends into my skateboard practice. Funnily enough, it doesn't go vice versa a lot. I don't usually find something in the skateboard world that I bring into my art."

What does your creative process look like? Where do you get your ideas?ET: "I end up coming up with a lot of ideas in the shower. I think a lot of people have this experience. The shower is an important creative space because it's just you and your thoughts. Sometimes, if I'm trying to think of a new idea, I look forward to just taking a shower cause I know all distractions are taken away. You don't have your phone, and there's no TV. You're just&nbsp;standing there thinking about something, and a lot of times that creates the&nbsp;brain space to create a new connection."&nbsp;You mentioned athletes earlier on, and how creativity is similar to sports in that you must be ready when the moment comes. So, to continue the sports analogy: is creativity a muscle you can train and improve or something you are born with?&nbsp;ET: "I really think that you're either born with it or not. I don't think I was a natural skateboarder. I wasn't born to skate like some people whose style is effortless and easy. I was never that guy. I had to work. I had to practice. And I had to think about it. I had to try hard. All those tricks you see of me in a video were multiple tries and multiple injuries. And creativity works the same way. Some people are born with it and make it look effortless; others must put in the hours, train, and work hard.&nbsp;And when it comes to creativity, I suppose I fall in the 'was born with it' category, but I also put in the work. My brain is always thinking of something. I'm constantly creating graphics and thinking of graphic ideas."

<blockquote><h1>“If I have an idea to do something, but it might not sell very well, we'll do it anyway.”&nbsp;</h1></blockquote>&nbsp;And does that ever wear you out?&nbsp;ET: “No, it's fun. I would rather have too many ideas than have no ideas. I have so many ideas that I have to pick and choose what I will work on. There are crunch times when too much comes together at once, and I feel like I’m on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Or I get a terrible headache.”&nbsp;The work you do is very diverse. You make contemporary art but also run a skateboarding company. How do you strike the right balance between commerce and creativity?ET: "Commerce is always back of mind. But I feel lucky that in my fine art practice and even in the skateboard company, which is a purely commercial endeavor, I don't have to think about commerce that much. If I have an idea to do something, but it might not sell very well, we'll do it anyway. Like, every year, we do a Halloween deck. And we'll usually do something crazy, like a weird shape or something. It's impractical, but enough people will like it that we make a small run. So I don't feel&nbsp;hampered by the idea that we can't waste money on this or that."

And how is it having a spouse who is also creative? [ed. artist and photographer Deanna Templeton] I assume it's great because you continue to work together, right?&nbsp;ET: "Yeah, it's really wonderful actually. Street photography can be really weird: we walk around with a camera, pausing and trying to get a photo without people noticing it. But one of the great things about having a photographer wife is that she understands what I'm doing and is an ally. We help each other on the streets a lot, you know. I'll sometimes create a distraction for her. She'll see like a cool old man smoking, hanging out a window. And I'll walk up and pause and pretend I'm looking at my map on the phone like a tourist, and then she'll get behind me to focus and get her&nbsp;exposure right. And then maybe I'll move. And she'll come out and shoot. And she does the same for me. I'll be shooting a photo, and maybe someone sees me and gets a little weird, and then she will come in and say something like: 'Ohh, your dress is so cute, or something like that.' And that just breaks the ice. So yeah, we work together in that way. It's kind of interesting and fun."&nbsp;Is there any competition between you two? Like when one spots something before the other does?&nbsp;ET: “Yeah, that's the downside of working together. I usually let her have the shot, simply because I shoot so much more than she does. For the last couple of years, Deanna has been a lot more passive in comparison. For instance, we went to Europe over the summer and she shot 10 rolls of film, while I had 70. There have been times when we had little arguments about who shot what. And sometimes we just decide to both shoot something. And whoever shoots its best gets to use it.”&nbsp;<img src="https://tioc-cdn.ams3.digitaloceanspaces.com/Schermafbeelding_2023_10_03_om_20_59_35_1ffd78d61a.png" alt="Schermafbeelding 2023-10-03 om 20.59.35.png" srcset="https://tioc-cdn.ams3.digitaloceanspaces.com/thumbnail_Schermafbeelding_2023_10_03_om_20_59_35_1ffd78d61a.png 232w,https://tioc-cdn.ams3.digitaloceanspaces.com/small_Schermafbeelding_2023_10_03_om_20_59_35_1ffd78d61a.png 500w,https://tioc-cdn.ams3.digitaloceanspaces.com/medium_Schermafbeelding_2023_10_03_om_20_59_35_1ffd78d61a.png 750w," sizes="100vw">

What does the selection process look like? You use film rolls, so you only know what you have once you develop them.ET: "I just got all my photos from our European trip—all 70 rolls. And my first reaction is always super negative. I looked at everything, and I went *** **** it, I didn't get anything. Almost all the photos that I thought would be cool weren't, and then I got super depressed. And it's the same process every time. Then, I'll scan the proof sheets and start going through the process of archiving them&nbsp;digitally. And as I go through that process, I soften a bit, and I'll start finding things I like. Things I didn't notice the first time around.&nbsp;My wife wanted to throw away a bunch of her negatives. She figured that someone would find them after her death, judge her, and think of her as a crappy photographer. And I forced her to hold on to those negatives. So she put them into a separate album called her “crap book.” And&nbsp;now it's like this running joke between us because, over the years, she has found so many good photos in that&nbsp;album. The thing is, over time, things change. I might not have liked a photo then, but maybe now, for instance, the building in the picture isn't there anymore, so the shot has become interesting on a historical level."&nbsp;<blockquote><h1>“Shooting on film is more expensive, and it's kind of a pain in the ass, but I prefer it.”</h1></blockquote>

Why do you insist on working with film rolls, dark rooms, and a lengthy editing process when you can use a digital camera, take the shot, and immediately see your work?&nbsp;ET: "I just prefer film. I'm not anti-digital. Look at my Instagram, and you'll see I use my iPhone to shoot all the time. But my iPhone and film photos are wildly different just because of the technique and because the lens on the iPhone is so wide. Also, everyone has a phone, so it's almost like you're invisible while shooting. You can walk by people at full speed and snap a photo. But taking a picture with my thumb without anyone noticing it is different from raising a camera to your face. Everyone sees that and feels that, but no one feels an iPhone because everyone in the world has one in their hand at all times.&nbsp;I've been thinking about buying a digital camera to do commercial jobs. But the funny thing is that the people who hire me for commercial jobs hire me because I shoot film. And so they know what they sign up for, that it takes a couple of days to see results. But those commercial jobs can also be stressful because I don't know what I shot and don't know if I did the job correctly. It's one thing to shoot photos for myself. If I mess up, no harm is done or money wasted. But messing up a commercial job is scarier, so going digital would make sense.&nbsp;But the digital question is hard for me because I don't have any real answer other than to say I&nbsp;prefer film. Shooting on film is more expensive, and it's kind of a pain in the ass, but I prefer it. And I can afford it. I like the idea of film. I have a dark room at my house so that I can print the photo myself. And I enjoy the physicality of it. The realness. And I like that the print itself often becomes an object. I will write on the print or on the edges."

<blockquote><h1>“When I'm in my studio, away from the phone, I usually have a good time.”</h1></blockquote>

What would you consider creativity killers?ET: "My iPhone is the creativity killer. I spend too much time on that thing, and every time I'm done looking at it, I realize I just fried my brain because all I did was look at other people's creativity on Instagram. And then I get depressed because I just saw all this cool stuff everyone's doing. And it's unfair because you only see everyone's best projects and work. So I usually regret spending time on my phone, time that I could have used to make a book or a painting or read a classic book. And yet I return to that phone every single day."&nbsp;&nbsp;And what fuels your creativity, other than lengthy showers?ET: "When I'm in my studio, away from the phone, I usually have a good time. Painting is repetitious; you're just sitting there making these little strokes for an hour and listening to music or a podcast. Those are good kinds of moments. It's not that different from taking a shower.&nbsp;And then there's sleeping. It's like the equivalent of a shower: you lay there, and all the distractions are gone. And you close your eyes, and you're in that black void. Your brain creates things. It's all black, so you have to imagine everything. And so if you start thinking of something you want to do, be it a book, a graphic, or something new in an exhibition. Sitting in that black void, your brain naturally goes into a zone where you think of something, and that's how you grab it. That's idea formation. Your brain creates an anomaly. What sucks, though, is half the time I wake up not remembering the idea."&nbsp;You make books yourself: any books that have inspired you on your creative journey?"One of the most super inspiring books is Jim Goldberg's 'Raised by Wolves.' It's about runaway kids. And that book has been a touchstone for me, but I hate citing it because it's almost impossible to get a copy. You might find one online, but it might be like $1000."&nbsp;<div class="raw-html-embed"><iframe width="800" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/8quyKLbUp5o?si=fKydMGqvh_AZxoDj&amp;controls=0" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen=""></iframe></div>

Do you have any favorite albums or podcasts you listen to while working that help you to be more creative or productive?ET: "It sounds super boring and weird, but I'll often just have NPR on. [ed. NPR is National Public Radio, an American public broadcast service] It's really dry a lot of the time with news and local stuff. But to me, it's kind of like white noise. And it's the same with television. When I'm drawing in the living room, the TV will be on, and I'm sitting sideways from it. There will be some show on, like a rerun of The Office, but it's just background noise. But I never look at it.But then, once in a while, I'll be like, what the hell am I doing? And then I'll put on music, which has an immediate effect. It has even changed the way I paint. The attitude of a song changes my attitude as I paint, and I've actually felt myself take more risks with what I'm drawing while listening to a punk song."&nbsp;<blockquote><h1>"It's all been trial and error."</h1></blockquote>

You're a self-taught artist. What sparked your interest in art in the first place?ET: "In high school, I had an art class. But yeah, I never went to college or anything. Just the School of Hard Knocks. [laughter] I've always just had to learn from books and from looking at other paintings, and you know, you try something, and you see if it works, and sometimes it does, and sometimes it doesn't. It's all been trial and error.In high school, my grandparents would take us to the mall, and there was a Rizzoli bookstore there with a pretty good art section. And I found this little book on Egon Schiele, and my mind exploded. I thought it was really cool. My grandparents took us to museums, so I was aware of the famous artists and everything, your Van Goghs and Monets. But Schiele's work was such a departure from all of that, with the scraggly lines and angst in the works. I learned about Austrian Expressionism and became a big fan of all these Austrian painters from that period. And I still like those guys, but then I also discovered David Hockney, which resonated with me because of living in Southern California."

And let's remember that at the same time, you were making a name for yourself as a professional skater. Did creativity play a role in that as well?ET: “Skateboarding was definitely a creative outlet.&nbsp;The physical act of skateboarding is pure creativity. Can you imagine the creativity bursting out of Mark Gonzales’ brain in the early 80s when he invented half the tricks we all do today? I was constantly juggling all these different things. I was running Toy Machine while being a pro skater and couldn't do either to the best of my abilities. I was always hard on myself because I wasn't the pro skater I could be.&nbsp;And I still wonder sometimes, what if I just decided to stop photography and focus on my painting? Could I become a great painter?&nbsp;And vice versa with photography, or even Toy Machine.”

So why haven't you focused on one thing?ET: “I think choosing would be hard. I opened up all these accounts and now must maintain them. So I painted myself into a corner on that. But then also I think if I was only doing one of those things, I might burn out. And so I feel fortunate that I can go into painting mode for a while when I have a show coming up.&nbsp;And I go into skate graphic mode at times, etc.”&nbsp;

But all these pursuits require a different focus on your part. Spending a day painting in the studio is different from the day-to-day running of a skateboard company. That requires some flexibility and a different work mode or rhythm.ET: "That comes naturally. When I have an exhibition coming up, I have a goal: I need to finish a certain amount of paintings before the show's opening. So, I tend to go into an all-day mode where I wake up and paint all day. But on typical days, I might go in the studio and paint a little bit, then work on my photo archive for a while, and then work on skate graphics too."&nbsp;Speaking of archives, what are your favorite clips of your skateboarding?&nbsp;ET: "My favorite has always been the&nbsp;Emerica, ‘This is Skateboarding’ video. I was probably at the height of my power. That's the best skating I did as far as, like, physical tricks. I did a lip-slide on an 18-stair handrail, which was, at my age, pretty cool. Looking back, the tricks I did in that video were probably the best I could do. Although I never truly became the best I could be because, like what we discussed before. I never dedicated the time. If I look at my peers, they just lived and breathed skateboarding and realized their potential much more than I did. So I'm sad about that sometimes.&nbsp;<div class="raw-html-embed"><iframe width="800" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/_smeiXix1Tc?si=KjdG98AOv1Cg-hBf&amp;controls=0" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen=""></iframe></div>&nbsp;The same applies to art. I could be a better painter if I devoted more time to it. Photography is different because I do spend a lot of time shooting. It's the one constant thing because I always carry a camera. But I might go six months without painting, and then I'll get back in the studio, and it feels like I'm starting all over again. And it's tough. Cause just like I'm not a natural skater, I don't think I'm a natural painter. I don't have that gift. I can't just make paintings happen. I have to work for it."

<blockquote><h1>“Self-doubt is a normal and healthy byproduct of putting your work out in the world for people to see. It’s scary, but you have to overcome it.”</h1></blockquote>&nbsp;Isn't that self-doubt an intricate part of the creative process? It certainly is something that most of the creatives I've interviewed experience.ET: "It's completely normal to feel this way, and I've come to terms with it.&nbsp;I tell myself that what I left behind is good enough. You'll always feel like you could do better, but I can look back at skating and go, OK, I don't think I reached my potential, but I'm still in the skateboard hall of fame! [laughing] I still was the world champion two times! At some point, you have to realize you can only do what you can do. I think self-doubt is a normal and healthy byproduct of putting your work out in the world for people to see. It’s scary, but you have to overcome it. Think of the people who have no self-doubt at all; they must be psychopaths."&nbsp;

Ed Self Portrait.png

California-native Ed Templeton (1972) is a lot of things. Professional skateboarder. Two-time World Skateboarding Champion. Owner of skateboard company Toy Machine. Renowned (street) photographer. And acclaimed contemporary artist. He was one of the original Beautiful Losers who helped shape and capture the skate scene in the 1990s and has spent the last 20 years on a unique artistic and aesthetic journey.&nbsp;

ED TEMPLETON: RAW CREATIVITY

Yours is one of the few professions where the client is constantly involved, often physically present on the set. Is that ever frustrating?DH: "The client often dictates a project. Now I see myself as a visual creator who works 360 days a year; the client spends ten days a year on set, at most. So it’s my job and responsibility to advise them. I need to tell and show them how we can make things look better. And sometimes that’s hard. They might be happy with the first shot you take, and you then have to convince them there’s value in making things even better. But that’s my job. I have to do it. I owe that to myself and the client.”&nbsp;<blockquote><h1>Funnily enough, restrictions or guidelines can actually be quite helpful.</h1></blockquote>

Do you consider clients’ requests as restrictions or essential guidelines?DH: "When working for a client, you have to compromise sometimes. But there are limits. We once did a shoot for a banana company. We had a nice setup: good lighting, pleasing composition, and the works. And then, the client came in with this huge inflatable banana. It was too big and too plastic, and while we tried to include it in a shot, we just had to kill that idea then and there.Funnily enough, restrictions or guidelines can actually be quite helpful. There are no constraints when I do uncommissioned work, and I find that much harder. Having no guidelines, and no structure, can be pretty scary. When I do creative shoots, I just mess around and experiment a bit until something happens. I’ll take a prop of some sort. Put some light on it. Maybe throw in an ice cube or shake it around. I really let go of preconceived notions and just try to see what happens.”

Were you born into a creative family?DH: “My dad was a passionate amateur photographer and had great equipment. Unfortunately, he passed away when I was six years old. My mum is also incredibly creative and very musical. Being exposed to all these creative outlets from a young age influenced me greatly.&nbsp;Although my family is not large, we are a close-knit unit. After my father's death, we became even closer and always had dinner together. Those dinners were like a haven for us, where we could connect over food. That’s probably where my love for food comes from.I went on to study photography but also continued working as a chef. I began to do some food styling, and that’s how I ended up meeting Willem (ed. Willem Groeneveld, food photographer and founder of Twentyten). He ended up becoming my mentor. Willem can be tough, but he is really good at his work. His expertise and guidance have been invaluable in my learning process as a photographer.”

What is your definition of creativity?DH: “I was thinking about that on the train this morning, and it’s quite a difficult question to answer because creativity can be so many different things. I believe that creativity requires some sort of synergy to flourish. Personally, I find that I'm more creative when I'm in a comfortable and secure setting.When I meet new people or potential clients, I tend to be more cautious, trying to understand their perspectives and positions. Unfortunately, that process can stifle my creativity because I try too hard. But, in a supportive environment with like-minded individuals, where everyone shares the same goal of creating something beautiful, you can strengthen each other's creativity.” &nbsp;The creative process can make you feel quite vulnerable, so I completely understand the need for a safe environment. But as a creative, you also want to push the boundaries and step out of your comfort zone, right?DH: “Stepping out of your comfort zone is easier in a secure working environment, one where you know the people and have previously worked with them. You can still explore creative boundaries when working with a new team, but it requires more effort and dedication. It’s just a bit harder.It's a fascinating balancing act because, on the one hand, you aim to produce your finest work, something that comes naturally when you feel at ease. But, on the other hand, you also want to grow as a photographer, which can lead to tension between comfort and growth.”&nbsp;And then add that you do a lot of commercial shoots where time is of the essence. Talk about a balancing act!DH: “Exactly! You’re in the middle of a shoot, and our producer says we have five minutes left to take the shot. That’s just killing but also necessary. Otherwise, you’d keep working at it because you’re never done or satisfied.&nbsp;As a photographer, I want to take the best possible shot. But because I produce commercial work, the definition of a ‘beautiful’ shot tends to vary from what the client wants. The client’s primary objective is to sell a product, so I incorporate a pack shot and brand label, which are essential for marketing campaigns.”

Are you looking for those happy accidents, then?DH: "I’m a recovering perfectionist. Before, I was never really satisfied. I was tough on myself and always wanted everything to be perfect. But perfectionism kills all creativity. So I’ve learned to let go a bit. Usually, when I worked on an idea that wasn’t working for me, I got frustrated and would quit.&nbsp; Now I just keep working on something. I’m much more interested in the process that follows. Not knowing what will happen and not having complete control is crucial if you want to keep growing.The biggest challenge today is finding the time to grow. Of course, creating uncommissioned work is essential, but in the studio, we’ve been so busy over the past year that we haven’t made any, which is a shame because it's really important. It sets you apart from commercial work and is important for future clients who want something different.”&nbsp;Is that the most challenging part about being a creative and an entrepreneur: finding the right balance between creativity and commerce?DH: "It’s the four quadrants of Stephen Covey. There’s quadrant 1: urgent and important.&nbsp;Quadrant 2: not urgent but important.&nbsp;Quadrant 3: urgent but not important.&nbsp;And finally, quadrant 4: Not urgent and not important. As an entrepreneur, a lot of things fall under quadrant 1: the phone rings, and you can’t ignore it; you have to answer it and act. The uncommissioned work and all the prep work fall under quadrant 2. Ideally, I spent most of my time in quadrant 2 because 1 is all about crisis management or putting out fires, stuff you really want to delegate. I want to be working on uncommissioned work more so I can continue growing as a photographer and company. When you just keep churning things out and don’t experiment from time to time, you’ll miss out on projects and clients looking for innovation.”

Where do you turn to for some much-needed inspiration when you already have a heavy workload and busy home life?DH: "I try not to look at the work of other photographers because you unconsciously start copying things you like and I don’t want that. I also don’t like looking at the work or other studios because it takes away from your creativity. So instead, I look at things like design and architecture.”&nbsp;<blockquote><h1>“While sleep is very important to be creative, most of my ideas come to me at night.”</h1></blockquote>&nbsp;When are you most creative?DH: "I do all the important stuff in the morning because that’s when I’m sharp. And while sleep is very important to be creative, most of my ideas come to me at night. I often wake up in the middle of the night and immediately write everything down. I’m very quick and creative in the early hours of the morning.&nbsp;So I wake around 6 a.m., go downstairs, make coffee, exercise, take a cold shower, and start to work. I try to get the important stuff done before 11 am, and that’s when I have my last coffee of the day. After lunch, everything tends to slow down a bit, and we end the day at six. We don’t work late. At night the team is tired, and you just don’t create good work. I’d rather we all go home, have a good night's sleep, and return the following day.”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;You have a great new, climate-neutral office, designed to cater to your artistic needs.&nbsp;DH: "Willem gets all the credits, I merely gave some input, but you’re right that everything here was intentionally built and serves a purpose. For example, we put the studio downstairs and face north to get soft light all day. We thought a lot about where to put the windows for the best lighting in the studio so that we could use daylight.”

What are the challenges you face as a food photographer?DH: “The biggest challenge with photographing food, whether that is a recipe or produce, is that it doesn’t stay the same throughout the shoot. It’s not a product you put in front of a camera and looks the same two hours later. So that is a challenge. It’s a race against the clock. Especially in the summer, when temperatures soar, you want the ingredients to look nice and fresh. And the strange thing about our work is that in the winter we shoot things that you would normally use in the summer, like strawberries and raspberries, so finding those is also a challenge.”&nbsp;But aren’t there tips and tricks to keep things looking fresh? I recall seeing a behind-the-scenes video where a food stylist worked with shoe shine and glue to make the food look appealing.DH: "We don’t use tricks. We like working with real ingredients and creating dishes you can eat. That’s what keeps our work looking natural and spontaneous. We’re food photographers, and it has to look and taste like food.”

19.png

Didier van der Heijden, a former chef turned photographer, deeply loves all things food. He is the co-owner of Twentyten, a culinary photography and film studio in Amsterdam. Didier was raised in a creative family, with a father who had a passion for photography and a musically inclined mother. He has fond memories of family dinners in his childhood home. Now with a family of his own, he spends his spare time tending to his vegetable garden or cooking meals from scratch. But most days, you will find him in the studio, doing what he does best: capturing stunning images of food.

Photography

KOOS BUSTER: THE POSTERBOY OF MODERN CERAMICS

ED TEMPLETON: RAW CREATIVITY

DIDIER VAN DER HEIJDEN: FOOD FOR THOUGHT

Cookie settings