The acryl sketches in this modestly sized journal were all made on top of earlier notes and doodles. In using some of the pencil marks’ shapes and outlines as organising elements, I aimed for compositions that are based on chance rather than a premeditated design.
If I were to diversify my business, I’d probably venture into the amazingly underrepresented field of Flying Carpet Manufacturing: with technology advancing as rapidly as it does, I’m confident that a little while from now that dusty old floor covering of yours will actually take off. The designs above are a preview of the direction my first season’s line of products might take.
To draw mundane, everyday objects can be a pretty compelling exercise. It is, after all, a commonplace that we rarely really look at – let alone scrutinise – many of the objects and surroundings closest to us.
There are infinite ways to draw whatever it is you’d like to draw, yet to capture something of any single subject’s substance, you’ll really have to look at it at one point, one way or another – no matter whether the result is intended to be ‘realistic’ or everything but.
The stones I drew for this two colour riso-print do range among those more mundane things, yet with any luck the drawings themselves attest to the attention applied to their making.
Tekeningen (Dutch for ‘Drawings’) is an anthology collecting both various discarded and discontinued drawing series, as well as a couple of one-off drawings. The diverse drawings’ common denominator is the format, and the fact that they were all made over the course of the same 18 month period.
Four of the original drawings featured in Tekeningen can be purchased from my online store.
You’ll know this: a white page’s potential is infinite. Though exciting, infinite potential is also known for regularly turning the task of coming up with something – anything really – into a paralysing ordeal. One way to tackle this infamous obstacle is by adhering to a set of self-imposed constraints. In drawing, material, format, and technique are three of the more obvious variables that can be curbed accordingly.
¡Potzblitz!’s constraints concern the drawing-material, the support, the format, and the formal vocabulary. Yet the series also shows that too strict an application of one fixed set of restrictions can easily foster generic replaceability: given a well-established set of parameters, it is after all an easy feat to produce an infinite number of artworks that respond solely to those.
I drew the drawings collected in this zine during a ten-day residency in one of the Moselle Valley’s more woody parts.
Due to the dutiful historization of the romantic and impressionist habit of working outdoors, the practice of drawing or painting in the woods – or in nature in general – has regrettably ended up with a somewhat stuffy reputation. You should try it sometimes though, it’s a real treat.
Copies of Unter Holz are available from my online store.
As in Mellow (see above), the Whaam!-drawings were also made on top of a disused notebook’s entries. Instead of having the pencil marks shape the compositions, here, they function as underlying structure for a colourful series of bursting, saw-toothed variations.
These spaceship-drawings are the closest I ever got to industrial design. Motivated by the genuinely boring looks of these day’s spacecrafts, I wondered what kind of designs the Memphis Group would’ve come up with if ever presented with the task of drafting an entire fleet of rocket ships.
There’s no way to tell if my modest vision corresponds with those hypothetical designs, yet I would not hesitate to test their ability to work in space!