<blockquote><h1>“One of the biggest dangers of creativity is being static and repeating yourself.”</h1></blockquote>&nbsp;Judging from your socials alone, you seem to work nonstop. Are you, in fact, the hardest-working man in Showbiz?&nbsp;Joseph Kahn: “Absolutely not! There are plenty of people who have more exciting schedules than I do. The thing is, I have a family now, so I have to split my time between family and creativity. And I'm still trying to find the perfect balance. Before I had a family, I had a very selfish perspective—I got to focus completely on myself and my ideas. I’d think of an idea at 4:00 in the morning and work until 2:00 in the afternoon. But if I’d do that now, it means I don’t get to see my family.”&nbsp;&nbsp;What effect have these time constraints had on your craft and creativity?&nbsp;JK: “One of the biggest dangers of creativity is being static and repeating yourself. If you don't grow, your stories become limited. Having a family has given me an entirely new perspective—it changes the way I see the world and, as a result, what I create. The mechanics of creativity might be a little harder, but sometimes working within limitations forces you to dig deeper for inspiration.”&nbsp;

<blockquote><h1>“Bigger budgets give you more freedom, but restraint is just as important.”</h1></blockquote>&nbsp;Money—or the lack of it—is no longer a constraint. You made your first videos for just $200, but now you work with much bigger budgets. Has having more money changed your creativity? Does a bigger budget mean more creative freedom?&nbsp;JK: “Bigger budgets give you more freedom, but restraint is just as important. I recently did a video for&nbsp;The All-American Rejects for basically no money. They were kind enough to let me use one of their songs in my movie, and so, in return, I directed a video for them. There was no budget but I had complete creative control and honestly, it’s one of the best videos I’ve ever done. I don’t think I could improve it. Every shot is what it should be.”&nbsp;&nbsp;You don’t always have complete creative control like that. How do you navigate that?&nbsp;JK: “Having complete freedom doesn’t mean you go all out in every direction. Restraint is part of the artistry, like playing guitar—you don’t just blast every note at full volume. Control over how you execute ideas is just as important as having the resources to execute them.&nbsp;&nbsp;The reality is that almost no one has complete creative control—not even when they think they do. Filmmaking, unlike painting or writing, requires massive coordination and funding. A great Hollywood filmmaker might make three movies a decade, meaning they spend very little time practicing their craft on set. In a perfect world, I’d be shooting every day. Since that’s not possible, I use commercials and music videos to keep refining my skills.”&nbsp;&nbsp;<blockquote><h1>“Having complete freedom doesn’t mean you go all out in every direction. Restraint is part of the artistry.”</h1></blockquote>

<blockquote><h1>“Whether it’s a three-minute music video or a two-hour movie, there has to be a core emotional hook. The challenge is tailoring that storytelling to the medium.”</h1></blockquote>&nbsp;Let’s go back to the start of your career. You began directing as a teenager before enrolling at NYU Film School, correct?&nbsp;JK: “Yes, I took out a student loan to attend NYU, but I couldn’t afford to stay, so I dropped out and started my own business. I bought a suit, set up my company, and within a year and a half, I had made around 30 videos—about half a million dollars' worth of work—while flying back and forth between New York and L.A. Then I shut that down, moved to L.A., and that’s when things really took off. When I first arrived, I was making $150,000 videos. A year later, I was directing million-dollar productions. It all happened fast.”&nbsp;So you were able to pay off your loans then?&nbsp;JK: “Yeah, but for me it wasn’t about the money. I just had this relentless drive. I didn’t want to lose. I was angry. Angry at every director who got a job instead of me. Not because I hated them, but because I knew I could be just as good—if not better.&nbsp;But having a chip on your shoulder isn’t enough. You have to act on it. I was constantly studying, constantly breaking down work, watching movies obsessively, trying to figure out the latest techniques.&nbsp;The person I was in my 20s and 30s? That’s not who I am now. I’m a married man, a family man. I don’t have the same time to obsess over every detail. But I’ve developed a skill set that’s way beyond most people. Now, I bring experience and a deeper understanding of life into my work.”&nbsp;

<blockquote><h1>“Creativity is about provoking thought and emotion—connecting the mind and heart.”</h1></blockquote>&nbsp;How do you define creativity in your work?&nbsp;JK: “Ultimately, I see myself as an entertainer. Creativity is about provoking thought and emotion—connecting the mind and heart. Anyone can come up with a weird idea. Anyone can shock. But how do you do it in a way that feels grander? I want my work to add something to the human experience, to make people feel something real.”&nbsp;&nbsp;You’ve worked across different areas—music videos, commercials, and films. What’s the common thread?&nbsp;JK: “Storytelling. Whether it’s a three-minute music video or a two-hour movie, there has to be a core emotional hook. The challenge is tailoring that storytelling to the medium. A commercial is different from a music video, but both rely on visual rhythm, pacing, and emotion to engage an audience.”&nbsp;&nbsp;You’ve tapped into youth culture across different decades. Have you ever felt disconnected from it?&nbsp;JK: “I never viewed it as youth culture. I’ve always just followed my personal passions. Sometimes I align with the culture; sometimes I don’t. Right now, I feel less connected because the culture is so negative. In the ‘80s, there was this reverence for love and admiration for women in music. Today, lyrics are often combative—one side is saying, ‘You wronged me,’ and the other is saying, ‘You’re no good.' That shift makes it harder for me to be inspired, but I believe it will eventually cycle back to something different.”&nbsp;

<blockquote><h1>“A feeling or a visual can sit with me for years before I know how to translate it into something tangible.”</h1></blockquote>&nbsp;Do you feel a need to use your creativity to educate, not just entertain?&nbsp;JK: “I don’t consider myself a political commentator. There are smarter people who dedicate their lives to studying and understanding politics. I’m just a guy obsessed with movies and emotions. People sometimes look to entertainers for answers, but I don’t have any. My best contribution is expressing confusion, curiosity, and exploration through art.”&nbsp;&nbsp;How do you decide when an idea is ready to become a movie?&nbsp;JK: “Ideas float around in my head constantly, and they stay there until they find the right moment. A feeling or a visual can sit with me for years before I know how to translate it into something tangible. I tend to live in a dream state, constantly making little movies in my head, framing the world around me in shots and sequences. That process never stops.”&nbsp;&nbsp;What’s your approach to collaboration in filmmaking?&nbsp;JK: “As a director, your job is to harness a collective vision. If you’ve written the project, you are the auteur, and the team is there to help bring that vision to life. The best collaborations come from working with people who bring their own genius but are also open to adapting and evolving ideas. Costume designers, for example, are incredibly creative people whose artistry influences the final product in ways most people don’t realize. Clothing is a fundamental part of human culture, and the way characters dress can shape an entire film. My role as a director is to guide these elements and let other creative experts bring their best ideas forward.”&nbsp;

<blockquote><h1>“Careers have hot and cold periods, but I know I keep getting better because I never stop learning.”</h1></blockquote>&nbsp;You’ve worked with major artists like Taylor Swift and Britney Spears. What’s the dynamic like when balancing their needs, the record label’s desires, and your vision?&nbsp;JK: “By the time an artist works with me, their original art form has evolved. A singer sings, a rapper raps—but when they step into my world, we’re building a persona, a way for their music to connect with audiences visually. At that point, they become actors in a sense. My job is to listen to them, understand their vision, and shape it into something powerful for the screen. The key is authenticity—capturing a real emotional connection rather than just making something flashy.”&nbsp;&nbsp;How do you approach working with artists who have their own strong ideas?&nbsp;JK: “I never walk into a project thinking, ‘Listen to me, I’ve been doing this for decades.’ I start by listening to them. Sometimes their ideas aren’t necessarily visual, but I can understand the instincts behind them. Like a psychologist, I work to channel those instincts into something cinematic. That’s the difference between a good music video and a great one—it’s about capturing something real, something human.”&nbsp;

<blockquote><h1>“It never gets easier. Every project is a mystery before it exists because it’s all in your head. And the more experience you have, the more you know how many things can go wrong.”&nbsp;</h1></blockquote>&nbsp;Does the lack of loyalty in the industry ever bother you?&nbsp;JK: “Not at all. There’s always more work out there, more ideas to explore. Careers have hot and cold periods, but I know I keep getting better because I never stop learning. That’s what keeps me relevant. I don’t worry about whether an artist will work with me again—I focus on the work itself.&nbsp;Also, my reputation has only gotten good in the last few years. When I started, no one cared. There were tons of big directors back then. I just happened to be the one who survived.”&nbsp;&nbsp;So longevity is important?&nbsp;JK: “Longevity is everything. Just sticking around is a kind of power.&nbsp;A lot of artists die young, and people romanticize that. But the truth is, your work has to be exceptional. It has to last. Just dying isn’t enough. Plenty of poor artists died in obscurity.”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;What are some challenges with record labels and their influence on music videos?&nbsp;JK: “The biggest issue is that too many executives get in the way of the artist’s vision. Sometimes it becomes a design-by-committee situation, where too many people give input and the end result feels washed out. The best projects happen when an artist and director work directly together, without unnecessary interference. That’s why my work with Taylor Swift was so strong—it was just the two of us shaping the vision.”&nbsp;

<blockquote><h1>“The best projects happen when an artist and director work directly together, without unnecessary interference. That’s why my work with Taylor Swift was so strong—it was just the two of us shaping the vision.”</h1></blockquote>&nbsp;If you could direct a music video or movie for any artist, who would it be?&nbsp;JK: “Mozart or Ravel. I might not be able to work with them directly, but their music inspires me, and I incorporate that influence into my films. My work is often described as a 90-minute music video, and I say, ‘Guilty as charged.’ That’s my style.”&nbsp;&nbsp;The music video premiere culture has changed. Do you miss the way it was in the MTV era?&nbsp;JK: “Absolutely. There was a time when a new music video release was an event—something people anticipated. We had a little bit of that with Taylor Swift’s releases because of the massive buildup, but the landscape is different now. The challenge is keeping that level of excitement alive in a world of instant content.”&nbsp;&nbsp;What advice would you give young creatives trying to find their voice in an oversaturated world?&nbsp;JK: “The tricky thing about advice is that what works for one era doesn’t always work for the next. Youth culture is constantly shifting, and staying ahead of it is hard. The key is to understand your instincts and trust them. There’s a point where you might not be as in sync with youth culture anymore, and at that stage, your themes have to evolve. The best creatives know how to transition from trend-driven work to something more lasting.”&nbsp;

<blockquote><h1>“The movie ICK is probably my most technically accomplished piece of work.”</h1></blockquote>&nbsp;What has been the most challenging scene you’ve ever had to direct?&nbsp;JK: “In terms of sheer complexity, I’d say ICK is probably my most technically accomplished piece of work.&nbsp;It was written like a $100 million movie, and I didn’t even have a fraction of that budget. There’s a sequence where the character is climbing a massive tower, an entire action scene playing out at high altitude, with a monster chasing him. The audience accepts it for what it is. They see him climbing; they feel the height, the danger.”&nbsp;But in reality? I only had the budget to build about 10 feet of the tower. I had to shoot that same section repeatedly from different angles to make it look like they were climbing 100 feet. That was some serious problem-solving.&nbsp;And even before that, there was a car chase I initially tried to shoot practically, but we didn’t have the budget for it. So I had to go against a green screen. People focus on the CGI monster, which looks good—now, after seven iterations. But what they don’t realize is how much of the film is just a green screen. Entire sequences where it looks like they’re driving through a real landscape, but it’s all CG.”&nbsp;&nbsp;Do you take pride in pulling that off?&nbsp;JK:&nbsp;“It’s a quiet victory. Because you don’t want to advertise it, you don’t want people to know. The best effects are the ones the audience never questions.”&nbsp;&nbsp;Do you still feel insecure every time you start a new project? Many people I talk to have that moment of panic—like, “Oh **, this is the time I’m going to fail.’ Does it ever get easier?&nbsp;JK: “No, it never gets easier. Every project is a mystery before it exists because it’s all in your head. And the more experience you have, the more you know how many things can go wrong.&nbsp;Every time you place the camera and start framing a shot, it’s never exactly what’s in your head. The human being in front of the camera moves slightly differently than you imagined. The set isn’t quite what you pictured. It’s not animation. That’s why many animation directors struggle with live-action—they’re used to controlling every frame. But with live-action, you’re dealing with reality.&nbsp;Every time, there’s that little voice:&nbsp;Am I screwing this up? Is the client going to hate this? Are they going to make me reshoot it? It’s always there.”&nbsp;

You’ve done animation yourself; would you ever want to do more?&nbsp;JK: “No, I like working with humans. The beauty of film, to me, is capturing a performance, a real human being.&nbsp;I don’t see film purely as a technical craft. I’m good at the technical side—I analyze things quickly. But the magic? That’s in the performances. I don’t watch&nbsp;Raiders of the Lost Ark just for Steven Spielberg, even though I love his work. I watch it for Harrison Ford. The magic is in the actors, in what they bring to the screen.”&nbsp;&nbsp;Do you have any ambitions to work in different mediums or venture out in different artistic fields?&nbsp;JK: “No. I have a limited amount of time, and I have more stories to tell than I have time to make them.&nbsp;I watch a lot of films, go to every festival and screening, and I always walk away with frustration. On my next project, there are things I want to improve. I know I’m not there yet.”&nbsp;&nbsp;Final question: when people Google your name, one of the first things that comes up is the Thong Song. Does that ever bother you?&nbsp;JK: “I told myself for years I’d never do a booty video.&nbsp;And then I got the song. I saw the potential. And I thought,&nbsp;You know what? If I’m going to do this, I’m going to make the best one ever.&nbsp;And I did.”&nbsp;

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Joseph Kahn is a director whose work has shaped pop culture for decades. From Britney Spears’&nbsp;Toxic and Eminem’s&nbsp;Without Me to Taylor Swift’s&nbsp;Bad Blood, his music videos have defined generations.&nbsp;Thong Song,&nbsp;The Boy Is Mine—the list goes on.&nbsp;But Kahn’s vision extends far beyond music videos. A master of visual storytelling, he has built a reputation as one of the most innovative directors in music, commercials, and film, making him a sought-after name in entertainment.&nbsp;At the International Film Festival Rotterdam, he screened his latest film,&nbsp;ICK, once again pushing creative boundaries. We sat down with him to discuss his transition between mediums, the discipline required to balance commercial and artistic projects, and the cultural shifts shaping the entertainment industry today.&nbsp;

JOSEPH KAHN: POP CULTURE'S DIRECTOR EXTRAORDINAIRE 

<blockquote><h1>“Whenever I try to script something, the moment I start drawing on the page all those plans go out the window.”</h1></blockquote> You often start drawing without a set script, letting the story emerge naturally. How do you navigate the uncertainty of this process?CW: "Writing is always an act of improvisation and uncertainty, and in comics limiting oneself to only words ignores half of the thinking (i.e. drawing) itself. Besides, whenever I try to script something, the moment I start drawing on the page all those plans go out the window, because the things invoked by a remembered setting or person opens up so many more interesting possibilities and intuited pathways. I’ve found that the mind is an extraordinarily organized thing, governed by language, and it’s my role not to impose an order on it but to find an order that best suits it — or, even better (if this doesn’t sound too pretentious) to find the shape of the order itself.This said, I get up and down from my drawing table several dozen times a day, consumed by despair, so who knows if I’m approaching it all correctly."&nbsp;<blockquote><h1>“I get up and down from my drawing table several dozen times a day, consumed by despair...”</h1></blockquote>

<blockquote><h1>“I tend to go half blind when doing comics. I try to use every inch of the page so the reader doesn’t feel ripped off.”&nbsp;</h1></blockquote> The detail in your work is extraordinary, often requiring careful, repeated reading. What attracts you to such an intricate approach to storytelling? And how do you know when a page is ‘done’ or if it still needs more work?CW: "Again, I work almost entirely instinctually and intuitively, trying to ‘listen’ to how something feels or looks rather than worrying whether it suited whatever imaginary reason I had for originally doing it, since those reasons are usually pretty shallow and silly. It’s fine to have these imaginary reasons, but they’re really only a prompt to work; once one sets into that work, then everything changes, and the real thing begins.As for detail, I don’t want the reader to be disappointed and I’d like for my pages to have varying levels of texture; as a kid I’d climb trees in my grandparents’ yard and find myself fascinated by the leaves or horse chestnuts or the green worms that dangled from them, and I want my stuff to at least hint at that level of life, if possible. Though I am well aware that I push the limits of legibility, for which I feel badly. It’s not intended as torture, and I’m trying to be more sensitive to this and, well, legible."&nbsp;<blockquote><h1 style="margin-left:0px;">"I have this compulsion to not cheat anyone, but it’s not intended to make it non-readable."&nbsp;</h1></blockquote>&nbsp;You've often expressed a fascination with the book as an object. How does the physical form influence the way you tell stories? Have you ever considered working in a digital-only medium, and how might that change your creative approach?CW: “This is sort of a dumb comparison, but the ‘return to vinyl’ in the world of recorded music points to a similar inclination: there’s something extremely unsatisfying and anxiety-provoking about only having a computer file of something. The physicality of a book points not only to the poetic uncertainty that we as humans harbor as souls trapped in bodies, but also seems to offer a slight, however false, reassurance of certainty as we all head towards our inevitable ends. I think it also has something to do with social awkwardness; lonelier-feeling people like me seem to tend to prefer something physical, maybe. i.e., we tend to be hoarders, insulating ourselves with things against — something.”

<blockquote><h1>“I always forget whenever I sit down to work just how time-consuming and difficult it is, even though I’ve been doing it for 35 years.”</h1></blockquote> What do you find most challenging about maintaining creativity over long projects like ‘Building Stories’ or ‘Rusty Brown’? Are there specific routines or techniques that help you overcome creative blocks?&nbsp;CW: “I find that I have to trick myself into overcoming self-doubt and despair and sometimes this just means scribbling on the page and seeing what I find in it, or even, if I’m lucky, actually getting one panel drawn; both of these approaches can make a huge difference. I always forget whenever I sit down to work just how time-consuming and difficult it is, even though I’ve been doing it for 35 years. Also: the great cartoonist Kim Deitch has a method where he sets a timer as a sort of self-shaming mechanism to keep him in his chair, which I’ve found also works. Like anything, one has to stay focused, at least for a little while, until something catches, because there’s little to no ‘flow’ in writing comics, at least the way I do them — though believe me, I’ve tried.”&nbsp;Your style is distinct, but clearly nods to classic comic traditions and other forms of art. You've been quoted saying: "Everything is inspired by Joost Swarte." Which other artists or storytellers have influenced you the most, and how do their influences manifest in your work?&nbsp;CW: “Joost’s clarity and precision is not just a style but seems to point to how we remember the world — as word-images that we sort of impose on our experience as a way of identifying and navigating reality, if that doesn’t sound too crazy. Of course he was preceded in this by Hergé and Saint-Ogan and Bateman — and Japanese art — but when I was a teenager and I first saw Joost’s work, something ‘clicked’ in my mind.&nbsp;As for other artists, I’ve answered that question so many times I’ve learned not to since I always leave out someone key; I’ve edited two comics anthologies which serve as good lists, though there’s a whole new generation of cartoonists now, and since we’re discussing European artists, I think Olivier Schrauwen’s ‘Sunday’ is a work of genius and couldn’t recommend it more highly.”

<blockquote><h1>"Art has to have a life of its own."</h1></blockquote> Your narratives often feel raw and vulnerable, tackling personal or difficult themes. How do you cope with the vulnerability of sharing such personal stories with the world?&nbsp;CW: “An artist who isn’t willing to embarrass or mortify oneself is doing something that maybe is tangential to art (and, especially, life). What John Updike called ‘hidden secrets’ and Kubrick referred to as invoking affection in the viewer/reader is for what I aim — for better or for worse. Art has to have a life of its own. Anything else creative can live for as long as it has some sort of ancillary life-support, like fashion, but once that plug is pulled, it will either die — or maybe start to breathe on its own.” The comic art landscape has changed significantly over the past few decades. How do you perceive the current state of comics and graphic novels? Are there any trends that excite or concern you?&nbsp;CW: “I’m impressed at how the last couple of cartoonist generations have shifted more towards the drawing / looking end of the spectrum but still make compelling and literate work, work which has a quality to it that someone like me, who thinks of a story as its core, misses out on. In some ways, the stuff is closer to what I was doing in my early twenties, and I’ve tried to allow a little of that back in, inspired by younger artists’ examples.”<blockquote><h1>“I can’t imagine AI wasting its time being ‘trained’ on comics”</h1></blockquote>AI tools are now capable of generating comics. Have you ever tried creating a comic ‘in the style of Chris Ware’ using AI, and what was your reaction?CW: "At least for the moment, the best comics are AI-proof, whereas a comic page can be shallowly visually and textually imitated, the rhythms and gestures and ineffable sensations that literate and sensitive cartoonists evoke on a page through the reading of pictures — which I think is what the real life of comics is — are not. Though it doesn’t really matter since I can’t imagine AI wasting its time being ‘trained’ on comics anymore than the general human populace has been; we cartoonists do a very strange, outer-orbit thing, and in the planet’s larger trend towards becoming conscious and eventually getting rid of we worker-ant humans, comics play a laughably insignificant role."

<blockquote><h1>“Sometimes I manage to recapture that sense I had as a kid gluing together pieces of construction paper in my grandmother’s basement…”</h1></blockquote> Has the creative process changed for you over time—does it ever get easier, or is it always the same grueling effort? And if it's still challenging, what motivates you to keep pushing through?CW: “It doesn’t get easier, though I guess if it did, I’d be worried. Sometimes I manage to recapture that sense I had as a kid gluing together pieces of construction paper in my grandmother’s basement, but such sensations are always fleeting. Besides, I’m not even sure what I was thinking and feeling as a kid other than I didn’t have a lot to work against, which really is something of an advantage, because 99% of personal epiphany is (I think) born of ignorance. Mostly I find myself buoyed by surprise, i.e. something turning up on the page I least expected, no matter how horrible or damning; everything else is just self-deception.”

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This summer, we had the pleasure of meeting Chris Ware, the celebrated graphic novelist behind Building Stories and Rusty Brown, during a guided tour he gave in Haarlem. Later in the year, we reconnected, and he graciously shared more about his creative journey. With his intricate designs and unflinching emotional depth, Ware’s work pushes the boundaries of what comics can achieve.In this conversation, he opens up about his creative process—improvising without a script, navigating self-doubt, and finding meaning in the physicality of books. For anyone fascinated by the mysteries of creativity, Ware’s insights offer a rare and honest glimpse into the joys, struggles, and surprises of bringing stories to life.

BUILDING STORIES: CHRIS WARE REFLECTS ON COMICS, CREATIVITY, AND CRAFT

<blockquote><h1>"I don’t wait for inspiration but treat my art like the job that it is."</h1></blockquote>&nbsp;What sparked your interest in drawing?NV: “I don’t come from a family of artists or creative people, but even as a child, I was always drawing. I was particularly fascinated by comics. I would copy Disney comics and Mickey Mouse when I was very young. As a teenager, I became more interested in Japanese manga, which further fueled my passion for drawing.Here in Italy, you can enroll in an art-focused high school, and there, I was first introduced to the art world. I eventually continued my education at the Academy of Fine Arts, studying design and photography.My style during art school was heavily influenced by illustration and comics, but at the same time, I was also exploring materials and techniques to see what worked best for me. I was particularly interested in analog photography, and in my research, I zoomed in on the future of analog images in a digital era. This sparked my interest in photography and how it is both a physical object and a fleeting digital memory.”

The vintage photos became your first canvas, right?NV: “Yes, I began working directly on vintage photographs back in 2013. I started out by collecting old photos from markets and eBay and then painting and drawing directly on top of them. My aim was, on the one hand, to preserve the memory of the unknown individuals in these photos while giving them a new life. The work caught the attention of gallery owners and curators, which boosted my career as a professional artist.”&nbsp;We also interviewed <a href="https://www.tioc.nl/article/ERIK-KESSELS:-PERSONALITY-OVER-PORTFOLIO">Erik Kessels</a>, who creates artwork with found photographs. I wonder if you ever feel uncomfortable manipulating vintage photographs?NV: “I don’t feel discomfort because I don’t know the people in the photos, which creates emotional distance. For me, the challenge lies in working with the original, historical objects rather than copies. The manipulation serves as a bridge between past and present, creating a dialogue through art.”

<blockquote><h1>"Activism is an essential part of my work, particularly in critiquing the objectification of women in fashion magazines."</h1></blockquote>&nbsp;Why did you transition from working on vintage photographs to magazines?NV: “In 2017, I participated in the 100 Days Project on Instagram, where I shared one magazine page transformation each day. However, my interest in working on magazines began earlier, when I was a design student in 2002, turning models in magazines into monsters to critique their objectification. By 2017, I had a clearer artistic style, and the project evolved into a visual diary addressing themes like anti-capitalism and feminism. This work resonated with people, and I began conducting workshops to involve entire communities in the creative process.”

Can you elaborate on the activist element in your work?NV: “I’ve spent a large amount of time in Milan, the fashion capital of the world, and you see firsthand that it’s not all glitz and glamour. There is a darker side to it all. One that I address in my work.Activism is an essential part of my work, particularly in critiquing the objectification of women in fashion magazines. I believe in transforming frustration into creativity, and I use art as a tool for discussion. By manipulating these magazine images, I can address topics like feminism, anti-capitalism, and climate change in a visually engaging way using the very source of that frustration: the fashion magazines themselves. I encourage others to use art to express their views and turn their frustrations into meaningful creations. It’s very therapeutic and beats staying frustrated about something.”

<blockquote><h1>“My training and experience have helped me work efficiently and avoid creative blocks.”</h1></blockquote>&nbsp;What does your creative process look like?NV: “For smaller works like vintage photos, I start by selecting a group of pictures and working on them as a series to maintain aesthetic and stylistic consistency. For magazines, I can complete one page in about an hour. I don’t wait for inspiration but treat my art like the job that it is, planning and creating within specific timeframes to maintain productivity. I didn’t always work as a full-time artist, so I had to plan my creative endeavors around my work schedule. I got used to planning my work, and that has certainly paid off. My training and experience have helped me work efficiently and avoid creative blocks.”&nbsp;What is the most challenging part of the artistic process for you?NV: “Sometimes, I dislike my own work, but I’ve learned to share it regardless to gauge public reaction. Interestingly, people often love the pieces I dislike, which helps me see my work in a new light. Commissioned projects can also be challenging because of specific client guidelines, but in the end, seeing satisfied clients makes the effort worthwhile.”

What are your favorite tools or materials to work with?NV: “I love using acrylics, gel pens, stickers, and washi tape (a type of rice paper tape). These materials remind me of my childhood and are quick and easy to work with, which suits my process.”&nbsp;You’re a trained photographer and designer, but your work merges different genres. How would you describe your work?NV: “My style is a combination of photography, illustration, and collage. My preferred color palette is neons and pastels. I often start with photography and transform it into something new through my manipulations. It’s difficult to categorize my work strictly, as it blends elements from different mediums.”&nbsp;Does working with other photographers’ images inspire you to create more of your own?NV: “I’ve experimented with self-portraits and manipulating my own photographs, but it initially caused me anxiety. In the future, I’d like to work on portraits of friends and family, as knowing the subjects personally could offer new creative possibilities. I’m not rushing the process, though, as I believe each project comes at the right time.”

<blockquote><h1>“I believe in transforming frustration into creativity, and I use art as a tool for discussion.”</h1></blockquote>&nbsp;You are very active on social media. Do you have advice for artists trying to gain visibility online?NV: “Research is key. Follow artists whose work you admire and study where they exhibit or are featured. Consistently produce and share your work, but don’t obsess over views or comparisons. Focus on building a solid portfolio and creating an online presence, such as a blog or website, to showcase your work. Visibility takes time, so stay consistent and be patient.You also have to take initiative. I work with quite a few brands, and in the beginning, I reached out to brands, showing them how I used their products in my work. This led to collaborations, such as workshops with a Japanese washi tape brand. Over time, as my visibility grew, brands began contacting me directly. It’s a good idea for artists to start with small collaborations, such as with art supply stores or local brands, to build relationships and gain experience.”&nbsp;You spent a good amount of time traveling all over Europe to do workshops. Does all that travel and teaching ever take time away from your art?NV: “I’ve found a balance between workshops and my own art. Workshops allow me to connect with communities and share my process, which is an important part of being an artist. I also work on commissions, ensuring I’m always creating art in some capacity.”

<blockquote><h1>"The creative journey never ends, and I’m excited to see where it takes me."</h1></blockquote>&nbsp;What’s next for you?NV: “I’ll continue exploring new techniques and possibly work more on portraits of people I know. I’m also interested in opportunities to collaborate, such as residencies and workshops in different locations. The creative journey never ends, and I’m excited to see where it takes me.”

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Italian artist <a href="https://naomivona.art/">Naomi Vona</a>, a self-described “archival parasite,” transforms vintage photographs, postcards, and magazines into eye-catching works of art. Armed with acrylic paint, washi tape, stickers, and gel pens, she blends analog photography, collage, and illustration into bold creations. Through her innovative style, Vona explores themes of identity, feminism, and nostalgia, crafting pieces that are both visually stunning and deeply thoughtful: a reimagining of found visuals into vibrant, meaningful narratives.

TURNING PAGES: NAOMI VONA’S CREATIVE JOURNEY

<h2>Navigating Society's Hidden Architecture</h2>Studying architecture was an eye-opening experience for Kingma: it provided her with the tools to understand and present complex societal structures. "I am an architecture student at heart. I was obsessed with complex architecture and architectural ideas during my studies," Kingma explains. "Think of capitalism, our educational and healthcare system, or even democracy itself: they're all large structures that consist of agreements, laws, norms, and bureaucratic processes we must navigate. Because of the intricacy of many of these structures, it is difficult to oversee them all: things are often hidden behind facades. And that's problematic: when you don’t understand or oversee a structure, it becomes very difficult to change things." By visually representing the hidden facets of our infrastructures, Kingma hopes to spur discussions and empower individuals to understand and reshape their society.&nbsp;<blockquote><h1>"Architecture is a metaphorical language that transcends language barriers. Everyone understands the concept of a closed door, an ivory tower, or hitting a blank wall."</h1></blockquote>

<h2>Unveiling the Language of Architecture</h2>"In my view, there are two types of drawings in architecture. One is the construction blueprint, which is essential to the actual built. But as a student, I felt a bit disappointed that there was so much emphasis on those blueprints, and rendering them at a scale of 1:100 or 1:200 because what about the drawings that tell the story of architecture? How do you convey things like light, smells, and sounds? Where is the drawing that conveys a narrative?”Inspiration struck when Kingma delved into the work of architects from the 1960s, such as Archigram and Superstudio, who used architecture as a metaphorical language to convey complex ideas and utopian visions. “They created these phenomenal works of art: large drawings that showed the city as a machine. Rem Koolhaas did something similar: he started as a cinematographer, telling stories about modernity through a city. They all use architecture as a language to describe something complex. It's a rich architectural tradition.”This fusion of traditional architectural skills and artistic ways of expression resonated deeply with Kingma. Armed with her architectural training, she discovered that architecture is a language that breaks barriers, which enabled her to communicate profound concepts through drawings and sketches: "Architecture is a metaphorical language that transcends language barriers. Everyone understands the concept of a closed door, an ivory tower, or hitting a blank wall."

<blockquote><h1>"I prefer to draw manually because the composition needs to be felt. You have to sit in front of it and experience it."</h1></blockquote>

<h2>The Waterworks of Money</h2>For her latest project, titled The Waterworks of Money, Kingma delved into the world of money, shedding light on the significant impact of the monetary system on various aspects of society, including inequality, sustainability, and global relationships. “Most of us don't know how and where money is created, how it's put into circulation, or who has the right to it. And while we don't understand the whole structure, we certainly feel the consequences of the monetary system in our everyday life. I felt a strong urge to outline that architecture.”Kingma undertook the self-described "mammoth task" alongside collaborators Martijn Jeroen van der Linden (Lector of New Finance at Haagse Hogeschool) and Thomas Bollen (research journalist at Follow The Money). Kingma compares the process to building a physical structure, with multiple iterations akin to architectural development. Kingma: "The project spanned 2.5 years, with a full year dedicated to extensive research." Over this period, the trio interviewed at least 100 experts, ranging from bank treasurers and CEOs to communication staff, pension fund managers, tax authorities, private equity firms, and central bank representatives. Kingma: "We ended up having this huge wall covered with sketches and flowcharts of how the monetary system works."&nbsp;<div class="raw-html-embed"><iframe width="800" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Ycit4WbJuwE?si=q3CnKzJubEbRR-6Z" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen=""></iframe></div><div class="raw-html-embed"><iframe width="800" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/IszXpzIo_ZQ?si=WFh0I979CJuT3S3H" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen=""></iframe></div>&nbsp;The creative journey continued for another year and four months to craft a coherent design that served as an accurate architectural representation of the monetary system's inner workings. The final part of the project saw Kingma draw every intricate detail by hand. "Thomas and I worked about 100-120 hours a week, seven days a week. While I drew, he developed the audio tours and thought about how to guide people through the work. Then we launched it at Lowlands and later exhibited it at the Rijksmuseum Twente, and finally at the Architecture Biennale in Venice."&nbsp;

<blockquote><h1>“I don't use digital tools and am not interested in them either”</h1></blockquote><h2>&nbsp;</h2><h2>Manual Mastery in a Digital Age</h2>It's been a labor of love. And in a time where everything can be rendered within seconds, Kingma spent months manually crafting and sketching, painstakingly mapping out and drawing up the current world of money where everything is in motion. “I don't use digital tools and am not interested in them either. When I talk to people like a banker, I have to draw on the spot to illustrate the process. So, I set up flow diagrams, and that's easier and faster to do by hand.”The intricate hand-drawn illustrations allow Kingma to incorporate rich layers of information. Each representation holds meaning. Kingma believes that drawing manually enables her to feel the composition as a whole, connecting with the work on a deeper level. “Ultimately, it's about combining the 100+ elements of the story into a logical working whole, positioning them in relation to each other, creating different scales, and making representations. I wouldn't know how to give all that as input to a computer program. Each representation holds meaning. So, I prefer to draw manually because the composition needs to be felt. You have to sit in front of it and experience it.”&nbsp;Want to see more of Carlijn's work? Watch out for the documentary “The World of Carlijn.”&nbsp;<div class="raw-html-embed"><iframe width="800" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/dO2zhe_5p8w?si=6zEmP3Q-YMuXlCz9" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen=""></iframe></div>&nbsp;

<img class="image_resized" style="width:50%;" src="https://tioc-cdn.ams3.digitaloceanspaces.com/image002_1_scaled_f05334289f.jpg" alt="image002-1-scaled.jpg" srcset="https://tioc-cdn.ams3.digitaloceanspaces.com/thumbnail_image002_1_scaled_f05334289f.jpg 120w,https://tioc-cdn.ams3.digitaloceanspaces.com/small_image002_1_scaled_f05334289f.jpg 387w,https://tioc-cdn.ams3.digitaloceanspaces.com/medium_image002_1_scaled_f05334289f.jpg 581w,https://tioc-cdn.ams3.digitaloceanspaces.com/large_image002_1_scaled_f05334289f.jpg 774w," sizes="100vw">We're very proud to call NOOK one of our partners.&nbsp;NOOK is the official magazine of the Dutch and Belgian professional associations for interior architecture, BNI and AINB. The magazine offers in-depth content, inspiration, and opinions. NOOK is published quarterly in English.&nbsp;The above article was first published in NOOK, the Drawing issue (2023 / #3).&nbsp;<a href="https://bni.nl/nook/">Order a hard copy of the issue for €12.50, excluding shipping</a>.&nbsp;

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Step into the captivating world of artist Carlijn Kingma (1991). Trained as an architect at Delft's University of Technology, she ventured off the beaten path to become a social cartographer. Today, she creates mesmerizing drawings using the metaphorical language of architecture.

CREATIVITY AT WORK: CARLIJN KINGMA'S CARTHOGRAPHY

Where does your love for illustration come from? &nbsp;LT: “As a kid, I was always drawing. I'd grab a piece of paper and sketch whatever I saw. There were no tutorials back then, so I would just copy stuff from magazines. My journey into art was largely self-taught. I started with traditional methods, focusing on drawing and sketching, before. I got serious about making super realistic portraits. It was all about getting that real-life look, and I got better at it over time.”&nbsp;<blockquote><h1>“I know full well that the process is as important as the outcome, but putting it into practice remains challenging.”</h1></blockquote>&nbsp;Proof that creativity is very much a muscle you can train, then? &nbsp;LT: "Yes, in my case, it was putting in the hours and persisting. It sounds simple enough, but persistence doesn't come naturally to me. I tend to give up when things don't go well, so it's a bit of a miracle I pushed through. I’m a perfectionist and so creating something and not being satisfied with the final product is particularly challenging for me. I find it hard to enjoy the journey because I'm too focused on the destination, on producing a beautiful end product. I know full well that the process is as important as the outcome, but putting it into practice remains challenging.”

So, did you study illustration or go to art school? &nbsp;LT: "No, I went to what's now called Flow Creative Conceptual Design, previously known as International Lifestyle Studies at Fontys in Tilburg. It wasn't directly related to creating art but more about creative thinking and conceptual ideas for businesses. This background, coupled with a minor in art during my third year of study during an exchange in Lithuania, pushed me to make more visual art.&nbsp;I got my first proper drawing lessons in college, which was an eye-opening experience. The teacher asked us to draw a computer mouse, which I did. It looked realistic enough, but I got a lot of negative feedback from my teacher, which frustrated me. He had seen how I had created it, so he wanted me to start over from scratch, explaining that my drawings were very flat. I hadn't considered the object's construction or perspective in space. I had to recreate the image using certain techniques, which was frustrating. And to my untrained eye, the result was almost the same. Still, over time, I came to appreciate how this teacher showed me that understanding the fundamental rules of art and design is important before you can effectively break or bend them.”

<blockquote><h1>“I've developed a technique to summon inspiration by actively creating a step-by-step plan…This structured approach ensures I can meet deadlines and maintain my creativity without solely relying on spontaneous inspiration.”</h1></blockquote>

What does your creative process look like?LT: "I used to believe ideas would spontaneously come to me, which was enjoyable but not practical for making a living. This belief was a bubble that eventually burst. Although it's true that sometimes ideas spontaneously appear, and I have to note them down quickly, I can't rely solely on waiting for inspiration to strike, especially with tight deadlines. For instance, with an editorial piece due for a magazine in just four days, I can't afford to wait for inspiration. I've developed a technique to summon inspiration by actively creating a step-by-step plan. I begin with a mind map, focusing on what an article or brand needs, using keywords as my starting point. This leads me to think deeply about the topic and conduct research. From there, I engage in associative thinking, allowing words that resonate with me to lead my thoughts far from the original concept. This process often yields ideas that, while not directly related to the initial topic, are interesting enough to include. I then compile a library of images, quotes, etc., that spark further inspiration. This method usually results in at least three visual sketches, complete with a color palette, which I then present to the client as initial concepts. This structured approach ensures I can meet deadlines and maintain my creativity without solely relying on spontaneous inspiration."

How have digital tools transformed your creative process? LT: "I always worked traditionally, until I bought an iPad about five years ago. I wanted to try Procreate and I have to say that it has revolutionized the way I create art. These tools provide incredible flexibility, allowing for experimentation and modification that can be more challenging with traditional methods. In Procreate, I can take an element and reshape or resize it in an instant; I found that much more complicated when solely working with pen and paper. It would be much more labor intensive: I'd have to cut out paper elements and scan them, but I still had to edit everything somewhat in Photoshop on the computer. &nbsp;I mainly work on the iPad these days. I sometimes miss the feeling of working on paper, and then I’ll make some personal works using traditional material. I also got a paper-like screen protector for my iPad, making it sound and feel like I'm working on paper because I missed drawing by hand and the little mistakes that can make a work more interesting or beautiful."&nbsp;<blockquote><h1>"There's a common misconception that because it’s digital it is less authentic than traditional art or easier to make."</h1></blockquote>

Yes, because you're a self-proclaimed perfectionist. With these tools, you can create picture-perfect drawings, but you don't want soulless images either. How do you find the right balance? &nbsp;LT: "When working digitally, you can zoom in, remove every little mistake, and edit endlessly. But I'm starting to let go of this need for perfectionism. Maybe because of these AI-rendered images, but I'm leaning toward including small imperfections and showing the maker's hand in a work. And it's funny how, on social media, there is also a newfound appreciation for craftsmanship. I post a lot in Stories, and I’ll get some reactions when I show a digital piece I'm working on. But as soon as I post a story with paint or a pencil I get so much feedback.Digital art is often undervalued and underappreciated. There's a common misconception that because it’s digital it is less authentic than traditional art or easier to make. That is not true because digital art requires just as much skill and creativity. Unfortunately, digital art is often undervalued. It's a shame that there's this kind of bias against it."&nbsp;

The hierarchy people place on it is strange, right? And feels outdated. Reminds me of how people put books, graphic novels, and comic books in different categories and see one as being higher in status. &nbsp;LT: "Yes, and social media isn't helping. You'll have people posting a video of how they create something, and it's edited in such a way that the audience gets the impression that it's all done with the click of a few buttons. They also tend to speed those videos up, which doesn't help either. Reducing your creative process, from sketch to final product, to a 15-second, bite-size video is doing more harm than good. I, for one, enjoy those slower videos, even if they're just 15 or 30 seconds long. I enjoy seeing the brush move over the paper, that watercolor effect. It really brings out the craft in it.”&nbsp;<blockquote><h1>“Reducing your creative process, from sketch to final product, to a 15-second, bite-size video is doing more harm than good.”</h1></blockquote>&nbsp;How is your relationship with social media? LT: "It's a double-edged sword. On one hand, it's a fantastic platform for connecting with fellow artists and showcasing my work. On the other hand, it can be overwhelming and sometimes stifling: seeing all these artists posting their art makes me question the uniqueness and authenticity of my own work.However, social media also inspired me to participate in the Powerful Women project. It originated from a social media challenge I participated in a few years ago. I realized how much I enjoyed that there were so many incredible women around me, women I had looked up to, and so many others I found inspiring, from whom I received so much positive energy. It made me think how beautiful it was that we, despite being almost competitors, genuinely supported and cheered for each other. I found this incredibly uplifting; it gave me a significant boost to see us working together and helping each other. I thought it was beautiful, and then I thought, how wonderful would it be to turn this into a challenge? We aim to combine powerful women and see how we can create and share beautiful work on a larger platform. Using a hashtag ensures that more and more people see it, So, that's how it started, and it led to something so much more beautiful with literally thousands of reactions from illustrators. We created an affirmation deck to showcase even more work and also instill more self-confidence in the people buying the deck.”

In your work, you often explore mental health and women's empowerment themes. What drives you to focus on these topics? &nbsp;LT: "My personal experiences with mental health have profoundly influenced my creativity. They have given me a more profound understanding and sensitivity, which I channel into my artistic work. Being able to express these struggles through art has been not only therapeutic but also a driving force behind my creative endeavors.I'm currently working on a passion project—a book about mental health. The main message is that it's okay to have moments when you don't feel OK. This project, a collaboration with a poet, combines poetry and illustrations to convey messages about mental health, aiming to offer comfort and understanding."&nbsp;<blockquote><h1>“Creativity is a muscle that can be strengthened over time, and challenges along the way are opportunities for growth and learning.”</h1></blockquote> &nbsp;Lastly, what advice would you give to aspiring artists? &nbsp;LT: “My advice would be to embrace your unique voice and perspective. The art world is vast, with room for everyone's expression. Also, take into account the power of persistence and practice. Creativity is a muscle that can be strengthened over time, and challenges along the way are opportunities for growth and learning. Creativity is an innate characteristic that everyone possesses. It's about looking at things from different perspectives and finding unique solutions. It's often associated with specific fields like art and music, but in reality, creativity permeates all aspects of life. Everyone has the potential to be creative, and it's a matter of nurturing and expressing it.”

Love Lisa's work? Visit her <a href="https://www.studiolisa.eu/">website</a> or buy her designs from <a href="https://www.bispublishers.com/search/lisa+den+teuling/">BIS Publishers</a>.

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Studio Lisa is run by illustrator and art director Lisa den Teuling (LT), who is best known for creating digital art with a soft, almost ethereal feel. Lisa’s work, which includes everything from book illustrations to advertising, focuses on themes like women's empowerment and mental health. We talked to Lisa about the creative process, artistic growth, and commercial endeavors.

LISA DEN TEULING: CRAFTING ETHEREAL REALITIES

<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

So, let’s start with the big question: what is creativity?TC: ”Because I’m an artist, creativity and art go hand in hand: I consider creativity a toolset to create art.”&nbsp;And is that a toolset you naturally possessed or something you acquired over the years?TC: “I had to learn these tools, which is, in essence, a set of thinking techniques. I have narrowed it down to 7 tools that I use in my own art, the workshops I give to companies, and the classes I teach at the Willem de Kooning Academy.&nbsp;The number one thing I always tell people is: dare to think. It’s like that Hannah Arend quote: ‘There are no dangerous thoughts for the simple reason that thinking itself is such a dangerous enterprise.’Overall, people are creative; they just need to find the courage to act on it. So you need to give people both the tools and confidence to help them express all the crazy thoughts and ideas they have.”

<blockquote><h1>"OVERALL, PEOPLE ARE CREATIVE; THEY JUST NEED TO FIND THE COURAGE TO ACT ON IT."&nbsp;</h1></blockquote>

Back to the toolset: you mentioned you have a list of 7 thinking techniques. Care to share some?TC: “Sure. When something isn’t going to plan, try making it worse. We’re so used to thinking about solutions, but if you make the problem bigger and start thinking in contrasts, the answer becomes much more radical.&nbsp;I also believe that two negatives make a positive. When visiting companies, I usually start by listing all the things that annoy people: the irritation inventory. One person might mention that there’s never any soap, while someone else might have a problem with the company’s strict hierarchy. Writing down all these grievances is a very cathartic exercise. But then you combine two of those irritations and end up with something positive. For instance, you make the CEO chef soap. He becomes solely responsible for making sure there is enough soap. As a result, the shortage of soap is history, and it immediately affects the company’s hierarchy.”

But why focus on sources of irritation? It seems a rather negative starting point.TC: “Irritation is innovation. It sounds cheesy, but in my workshops, this little slogan works like a charm. When you are annoyed by something, it means there is an emotion, and emotions are always a good starting point for a project.&nbsp;I tell my students at the Willem de Kooning to always carry a notebook and write down things that annoy, frustrate or anger them. I also urge my students to sketch any idea they may have. Don’t limit yourself to words and texts: start drawing.”

<blockquote><h1>“HERE I THOUGHT I WAS A BRILLIANT ARTIST; TURNS OUT IT COULD ALL BE REDUCED TO A SYSTEM!”</h1></blockquote>

Sound advice. Do you use all these tools in your work as well?TC: “I do, but I wasn’t aware that I did till a friend of mine approached me to give a workshop. He has an advertising agency and liked my work because it links to branding and has a media quality to it. He asked if I could do a presentation for his team. And so I started thinking about my work method. When do I decide to take on a project? It has to move me in some way. And then I think about where I, as an artist, stand in this whole thing and what would make for an interesting standpoint. I concluded that I took the same steps with each project. And that realization scared the hell out of me. Here I thought I was a brilliant artist; turns out it could all be reduced to a system!”

Funny, the very thing that scared you, i.e. your systematic way of working, is what empowers the people you teach in your classroom and workshops.TC: “Exactly! When I present my work, people sometimes wonder how I come up with this stuff. And then, I explain how&nbsp;exactly I come up with this stuff, and it empowers them. I give them very tactile assignments. Ask everybody to bring a newspaper to class and start cutting out stories that move them. And then we use the available tools: make the problem bigger, exaggerate something or bring it closer to home like we did with the MyPolarIce project for which we sold arctic ice on Amsterdam’s Museumplein. Everybody knows the arctic is melting, but what if we sold the last ice in Amsterdam? It’s funny but also incredibly painful. We’re all going down because of hyper-capitalism, and then we take the last arctic ice and turn it into a commercial product.Bringing things closer to home, literally, is also what we did with the Rederij Lampedusa project: we all read and saw the news about refugees sailing to Europe on boats. I wanted to bring them here and let them take part in Sail. But speaking to these former refugees, they had no interest in simply playing a part in an art project, which is why it ended up a social enterprise. That to my is also creativity: having faith in the process, not clinging to original ideas, but allowing things to evolve.”

You were the first man online [on the website www.teun.nu, you could find Teun Castelein on a 1:1 scale], but on the whole, you’re not too bothered with digital art. Why is that?TC: “I think about that a lot. My generation's artists that are doing really well have almost all gone digital. And in 30 to 40 years from now, we’ll look back and say that this was the time of digital awaking, but in all honesty: it doesn’t interest me.&nbsp;My projects can be found in real life, and, sometimes, literally on the street. I want to make work that appeals to a large part of the population. Things like the Flower Corso. Or sand sculptures. I’d also love to do a project using the kind of old-school airbrushing you see on trucks and carnival wagons. I’ve used digital techniques in my work, but I prefer taking a newspaper, lying it on a table, and cutting out stories. I love thinking about new projects, but not behind a computer screen. The biggest creativity blocker? Going online to look for inspiration! Pinterest kills all creativity.”

<blockquote><h1>“PINTEREST KILLS ALL CREATIVITY.”&nbsp;</h1></blockquote>

Want to see more of Teun's work? Check out his <a href="https://tioc.nl/profile/teun%20castelein">TIOC profile</a>, which includes one of his latest projects: Pride Choir.&nbsp;

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Teun Castelein’s (1980) LinkedIn page reads: artist, one-man-conglomerate, social dreamer. It’s the perfect summary of Teun’s work and his entrepreneurial and artistic adventures. Adventures that included a fully corona-proof One Man Flower Parade, selling Arctic ice cubes on Amsterdam’s Museumplein, and setting up a cruise made up of a team of former refugees and a fleet of refugee boats. We spoke to Teun about creativity as a toolset, how irritation fuels innovation and the importance of sharing ideas, however crazy they may seem.

Visual Art

JOSEPH KAHN: POP CULTURE'S DIRECTOR EXTRAORDINAIRE

BUILDING STORIES: CHRIS WARE REFLECTS ON COMICS, CREATIVITY, AND CRAFT

TURNING PAGES: NAOMI VONA’S CREATIVE JOURNEY

CREATIVITY AT WORK: CARLIJN KINGMA'S CARTHOGRAPHY

LISA DEN TEULING: CRAFTING ETHEREAL REALITIES

ED TEMPLETON: RAW CREATIVITY

TEUN CASTELEIN: IRRITATION AS INNOVATION

Visual Art

JOSEPH KAHN: POP CULTURE'S DIRECTOR EXTRAORDINAIRE

BUILDING STORIES: CHRIS WARE REFLECTS ON COMICS, CREATIVITY, AND CRAFT

TURNING PAGES: NAOMI VONA’S CREATIVE JOURNEY

CREATIVITY AT WORK: CARLIJN KINGMA'S CARTHOGRAPHY

LISA DEN TEULING: CRAFTING ETHEREAL REALITIES

ED TEMPLETON: RAW CREATIVITY

TEUN CASTELEIN: IRRITATION AS INNOVATION

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