dirk [cartoonist].
I’m not just angry, but then again I am angry.
a conversation.
[July 14, 2016]
Stepping into his room, one is immediately fronted by a floor-to-ceiling retro TV set
collection, an almost suffocating presence. The curved glass screens blankly stare back at the unassuming visitor. Asking about them breaks the awkward icy boundary between visitor and artist, and Dirk eagerly shows me his favorite little Russian radio TV from the sixties or fifties, he’s not quite sure. Fiddling with the knob, he finally gets the reluctant screen to wake up, growling some scratchy white noise in protest. Dirk reveals to me his dormant future plans to use his proud collection in a music video for his punk band, patting the old Russian set like a secret accomplice.
On the other side of the room not overgrown by screens is another corner with more screens, a PC computer and an illustrator’s pad. He was coloring in a frame for the animated music video for his band’s song, “Happy,” in which currently a wide-eyed “goddess” is birthing babies out of an inflamed vagina. He plays me the loop and then shows me the video in its psychedelic and wonderfully twisted entirety: “I am so happy, so motherfucking happy, so happy, so happy… Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop!”
> Wow.
Yeah. Disgusting, bubbly… Now we’re inside of his head and it’s this landscape, babies being born, a goddess spewing out babies, some delicate satanic subliminal messages to freak out people. I don't know if it still works, I hope it does freak out some people. Just trying to have a bit of fun. Animation is a bunch of bullshit – you have to draw everything, all these drawings [frames]… it should kick ass. It should be fuller, but I have to get it done in two weeks, so it’s pretty stressful. I should be stressed, but in a way I don't care, it’s my own band, so. It should be good enough. But I want it to explode. But it’s gotta – it will be much nicer with backgrounds and when there’s no me explaining everything. You get an idea. All the backgrounds need to be nice and tight and colorful, and then it will have body. If every shot looks like this one, everything will have more body. So that's what I’m doing all day. No wonder I’m going insane, slowly but surely…
> So, when did you come to Berlin?
I came to Berlin six years ago, from the Netherlands. First, it wasn't that easy. In fact, it was six and a half years ago. To me it feels like [the music video] in Berlin, so I can’t imagine what it’s like in New York.
When he tries to show me his past animations, he realizes that most of the files he was looking for were located on a hard drive that got burnt and ruined, never to awaken again.
This one is toast. This one is where everything was on. It still smells burnt. So I fucked this one up… So as you can see, I’m terribly organized…
> How has it been like in Berlin for you?
I think Berlin is sometimes so flaky, it drives me nuts.
> I’ve been told that Berlin is both a womb and graveyard for creation, where it’s easy to produce but also easy to lose motivation for creativity.
It’s hard to find people here that you can build on. I’m maybe a bit flaky as well, I don't know. It’s very easy to find people to get drunk with and get high with and have creative conversations with, but not necessarily work with. I would love to work in New York where I would have to push further. We have a nice group of people we surround ourselves with. I hope I’m not flaky. I’m flaky with hard drive [laughs]. [Vera and I,] we’re both from the south of the Netherlands. It’s very flaky there.
> I heard from Vera that you’re getting sick of the bunnies?
I’m done with the bunnies. I’ve drawn so many. I drew over a thousand of those cartoons, and an animation series that I’ll show you in a bit.
> Did you study visual art in the Netherlands?
I studied animation. I wanted to be an animator – I really wanted to be a Disney animator, that's what I set out to do, and then I discovered the weird stuff in art school. I was always drawing, but when I started animation school I wanted to do it for a nine-to-five job.
> What got you into animation in the first place?
When I went to an animation school in the Netherlands – it doesn't exist anymore, it turns out it was a scam, everybody in the Netherlands knows about it – I met quite a few nice people there. And most people who did that are actually quite professional animators in the Netherlands. But I just made my first movement and was hooked, that's it. I liked the repetition of the work, I liked to add the actual level of movement in there. I was hooked, so I decided to make it my work. And then I discovered animation can be weird, and so I chose the weirdness of it, which is also hard to find jobs in, of course. Since I left animation school, I had to do such shit animation jobs to pay the bills, more or less, and then I came here.
> What made you come to Berlin?
Well, it's a nice city! I was working on all these jobs and studying and it wasn't really working, so I decided I needed a jolt to the system, I supposed, that's why I decided to come to Berlin, to wake up and plunge into a more difficult life, or just start over. I guess that's why. It kind of worked out. That's the good thing, from there, at one point in Berlin, I had no clue what to do with my life and I was utterly depressed and I didn't have anything, everything that I had was basically destroyed, the little bit that I had from the Netherlands. And then those bunnies kind of came up, and then I started drawing bunnies every day. And it kind of happened, and it turned into the thing that we have, the business that we have surrounding them.
> The bunnies came to the rescue…
I don't know, it’s kind of like a catharsis maybe. If I look at those cartoons right now from a more distant point of view, some that I sell at the market, those are dark, or those are very perverse as well. And I never really made them like that, I just made them as jokes or whatever, but now that I come to realize, there’s one in particular where the bunny is smashing his hand on the table, “daddy I’m not a fuck-up!” and the father is like “suuuuure, you’re not,” and now I’m like what the fuck does that mean? That is a dark one! I mean, I guess that's what the bunnies were, they were, they were very liberating in that sense, because they gave me the freedom to go and make simple drawings. They are quite simple as well.
> I think they’re so real, and that’s why they’re so appealing. It’s not just dark, but it makes a point that the struggle story may be the most human story.
That’s the thing – everybody can recognize themselves in the struggling bunnies, and that's why those cartoons are a consolation, for some people at least. So it’s strange that I now make the decision to go away from that and turn maybe less personal, I don't know about that yet. Because right now I’m drawing a story. It’s now on hold because I have to finish this animation, because I promised my band member to finish it. But my real thing that I would like to do right now is make music and draw comics.
> May I see the story?
Of course, here, it’s “This Little Piggy” – it’s at page thirty-five right now, and it’s incredibly dark, and I’m exploring how much I can get a certain nakedness and a certain darkness in a story. I don't want to put too much thought into it, but with this one, I’m surprised with it, like, “Jesus Christ what the fuck is wrong with me, am I insane? Or what is it?” You know, that's also what’s kind of interesting, to create a story where the character is – I don't want to do whatever I do to this character, I don't want to do it, because he’s friendly and I like him. But the stuff I throw at him is horrible, really bad, and that's the really interesting thing for me to do right, now.
> I think it’s very powerful to have that outlet. Not a lot of people do.
I’m doing something – I’m trying to get to a new level of reaching people or reaching myself. With the bunnies I felt really on top of it – with this, I feel like I’m kind of in a twilight zone, I don't really know what it is I’m doing. But I’m doing something, and it’s interesting. Also with this one, if I draw one page I’m so physically tired, it’s crazy. It’s really strange, it’s really strange how it works. It’s also really cathartic, anger coming out. It’s just the way it should be, I guess.
> The bunnies, and now this new work, in addition to your creative phases – how has your environment affected your work? Does the energy of Berlin play a role?
Maybe quite a lot, maybe now more than back then. Because back then I was enjoying more, but also enjoying less. I was a lot less stable, my life was not quite as stable as it is now. So my work was less stable. I think a lot of people in Berlin are so shitty – maybe I sound like I an old fart now, because that's what I am, but lately I cannot put up with shit anymore. Snapchat, for example, that's your generation, that's just something that I don't get. And that's also part of it, but it’s also interesting: grappling with something you don't understand.
> The worst is apathy, so at least grapping or being angry with it is better.
But I get the feeling that a lot of people are apathetic!
> Here?
Everywhere, especially younger people – counting myself, I’m 35, so I count myself – their eyes look like this, you can literally see their eyes are closer and sometimes you see some guy or girl and you just want to shake them and be like, “wake the fuck up, you fucking moron, just wake up!” And I guess that's what’s weird… A lot of anger comes from that. I’m not just angry, but then again I am angry. But I’ve always been angry, as you can see with the bunnies, I suppose [laughs].
> May I [read the story]?
Of course, that's why I gave it to you. It’s just comics, nothing precious… it’s not art.
> I’m not sure about that! But I understand the different use of “art” in Berlin.
It’s not pretentious, let’s put it like that. It’s something that you can touch and hold. It’s not Damien Hurst or something big or something higher or something cultural – it’s just comics. Comics are supposed to be fun and easy-going. It's a story…I’m done with computer work [like the music video animation], I like paper better [like this work].
Stepping into his room, one is immediately fronted by a floor-to-ceiling retro TV set
collection, an almost suffocating presence. The curved glass screens blankly stare back at the unassuming visitor. Asking about them breaks the awkward icy boundary between visitor and artist, and Dirk eagerly shows me his favorite little Russian radio TV from the sixties or fifties, he’s not quite sure. Fiddling with the knob, he finally gets the reluctant screen to wake up, growling some scratchy white noise in protest. Dirk reveals to me his dormant future plans to use his proud collection in a music video for his punk band, patting the old Russian set like a secret accomplice.
On the other side of the room not overgrown by screens is another corner with more screens, a PC computer and an illustrator’s pad. He was coloring in a frame for the animated music video for his band’s song, “Happy,” in which currently a wide-eyed “goddess” is birthing babies out of an inflamed vagina. He plays me the loop and then shows me the video in its psychedelic and wonderfully twisted entirety: “I am so happy, so motherfucking happy, so happy, so happy… Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop!”
> Wow.
Yeah. Disgusting, bubbly… Now we’re inside of his head and it’s this landscape, babies being born, a goddess spewing out babies, some delicate satanic subliminal messages to freak out people. I don't know if it still works, I hope it does freak out some people. Just trying to have a bit of fun. Animation is a bunch of bullshit – you have to draw everything, all these drawings [frames]… it should kick ass. It should be fuller, but I have to get it done in two weeks, so it’s pretty stressful. I should be stressed, but in a way I don't care, it’s my own band, so. It should be good enough. But I want it to explode. But it’s gotta – it will be much nicer with backgrounds and when there’s no me explaining everything. You get an idea. All the backgrounds need to be nice and tight and colorful, and then it will have body. If every shot looks like this one, everything will have more body. So that's what I’m doing all day. No wonder I’m going insane, slowly but surely…
> So, when did you come to Berlin?
I came to Berlin six years ago, from the Netherlands. First, it wasn't that easy. In fact, it was six and a half years ago. To me it feels like [the music video] in Berlin, so I can’t imagine what it’s like in New York.
When he tries to show me his past animations, he realizes that most of the files he was looking for were located on a hard drive that got burnt and ruined, never to awaken again.
This one is toast. This one is where everything was on. It still smells burnt. So I fucked this one up… So as you can see, I’m terribly organized…
> How has it been like in Berlin for you?
I think Berlin is sometimes so flaky, it drives me nuts.
> I’ve been told that Berlin is both a womb and graveyard for creation, where it’s easy to produce but also easy to lose motivation for creativity.
It’s hard to find people here that you can build on. I’m maybe a bit flaky as well, I don't know. It’s very easy to find people to get drunk with and get high with and have creative conversations with, but not necessarily work with. I would love to work in New York where I would have to push further. We have a nice group of people we surround ourselves with. I hope I’m not flaky. I’m flaky with hard drive [laughs]. [Vera and I,] we’re both from the south of the Netherlands. It’s very flaky there.
> I heard from Vera that you’re getting sick of the bunnies?
I’m done with the bunnies. I’ve drawn so many. I drew over a thousand of those cartoons, and an animation series that I’ll show you in a bit.
> Did you study visual art in the Netherlands?
I studied animation. I wanted to be an animator – I really wanted to be a Disney animator, that's what I set out to do, and then I discovered the weird stuff in art school. I was always drawing, but when I started animation school I wanted to do it for a nine-to-five job.
> What got you into animation in the first place?
When I went to an animation school in the Netherlands – it doesn't exist anymore, it turns out it was a scam, everybody in the Netherlands knows about it – I met quite a few nice people there. And most people who did that are actually quite professional animators in the Netherlands. But I just made my first movement and was hooked, that's it. I liked the repetition of the work, I liked to add the actual level of movement in there. I was hooked, so I decided to make it my work. And then I discovered animation can be weird, and so I chose the weirdness of it, which is also hard to find jobs in, of course. Since I left animation school, I had to do such shit animation jobs to pay the bills, more or less, and then I came here.
> What made you come to Berlin?
Well, it's a nice city! I was working on all these jobs and studying and it wasn't really working, so I decided I needed a jolt to the system, I supposed, that's why I decided to come to Berlin, to wake up and plunge into a more difficult life, or just start over. I guess that's why. It kind of worked out. That's the good thing, from there, at one point in Berlin, I had no clue what to do with my life and I was utterly depressed and I didn't have anything, everything that I had was basically destroyed, the little bit that I had from the Netherlands. And then those bunnies kind of came up, and then I started drawing bunnies every day. And it kind of happened, and it turned into the thing that we have, the business that we have surrounding them.
> The bunnies came to the rescue…
I don't know, it’s kind of like a catharsis maybe. If I look at those cartoons right now from a more distant point of view, some that I sell at the market, those are dark, or those are very perverse as well. And I never really made them like that, I just made them as jokes or whatever, but now that I come to realize, there’s one in particular where the bunny is smashing his hand on the table, “daddy I’m not a fuck-up!” and the father is like “suuuuure, you’re not,” and now I’m like what the fuck does that mean? That is a dark one! I mean, I guess that's what the bunnies were, they were, they were very liberating in that sense, because they gave me the freedom to go and make simple drawings. They are quite simple as well.
> I think they’re so real, and that’s why they’re so appealing. It’s not just dark, but it makes a point that the struggle story may be the most human story.
That’s the thing – everybody can recognize themselves in the struggling bunnies, and that's why those cartoons are a consolation, for some people at least. So it’s strange that I now make the decision to go away from that and turn maybe less personal, I don't know about that yet. Because right now I’m drawing a story. It’s now on hold because I have to finish this animation, because I promised my band member to finish it. But my real thing that I would like to do right now is make music and draw comics.
> May I see the story?
Of course, here, it’s “This Little Piggy” – it’s at page thirty-five right now, and it’s incredibly dark, and I’m exploring how much I can get a certain nakedness and a certain darkness in a story. I don't want to put too much thought into it, but with this one, I’m surprised with it, like, “Jesus Christ what the fuck is wrong with me, am I insane? Or what is it?” You know, that's also what’s kind of interesting, to create a story where the character is – I don't want to do whatever I do to this character, I don't want to do it, because he’s friendly and I like him. But the stuff I throw at him is horrible, really bad, and that's the really interesting thing for me to do right, now.
> I think it’s very powerful to have that outlet. Not a lot of people do.
I’m doing something – I’m trying to get to a new level of reaching people or reaching myself. With the bunnies I felt really on top of it – with this, I feel like I’m kind of in a twilight zone, I don't really know what it is I’m doing. But I’m doing something, and it’s interesting. Also with this one, if I draw one page I’m so physically tired, it’s crazy. It’s really strange, it’s really strange how it works. It’s also really cathartic, anger coming out. It’s just the way it should be, I guess.
> The bunnies, and now this new work, in addition to your creative phases – how has your environment affected your work? Does the energy of Berlin play a role?
Maybe quite a lot, maybe now more than back then. Because back then I was enjoying more, but also enjoying less. I was a lot less stable, my life was not quite as stable as it is now. So my work was less stable. I think a lot of people in Berlin are so shitty – maybe I sound like I an old fart now, because that's what I am, but lately I cannot put up with shit anymore. Snapchat, for example, that's your generation, that's just something that I don't get. And that's also part of it, but it’s also interesting: grappling with something you don't understand.
> The worst is apathy, so at least grapping or being angry with it is better.
But I get the feeling that a lot of people are apathetic!
> Here?
Everywhere, especially younger people – counting myself, I’m 35, so I count myself – their eyes look like this, you can literally see their eyes are closer and sometimes you see some guy or girl and you just want to shake them and be like, “wake the fuck up, you fucking moron, just wake up!” And I guess that's what’s weird… A lot of anger comes from that. I’m not just angry, but then again I am angry. But I’ve always been angry, as you can see with the bunnies, I suppose [laughs].
> May I [read the story]?
Of course, that's why I gave it to you. It’s just comics, nothing precious… it’s not art.
> I’m not sure about that! But I understand the different use of “art” in Berlin.
It’s not pretentious, let’s put it like that. It’s something that you can touch and hold. It’s not Damien Hurst or something big or something higher or something cultural – it’s just comics. Comics are supposed to be fun and easy-going. It's a story…I’m done with computer work [like the music video animation], I like paper better [like this work].
“This Little Piggy” depicts an innocent and weak protagonist that is destined to meet terrible mishaps that cause his loved ones and himself seemingly unnecessary harm, and the world blames him for it. Details such as the bubbling sound in a water tank as he sits in a quiet hallway, awaiting a verdict to label him guilty, contrast with dynamic violence, such a slow motion sequence following a knife’s path down to his mother’s face. I turn each page like I’m handling a wounded bird in my lap; my eyes carefully devour each frame, quickly over the thick and rough lines, slowly over each delicate sweat drop. I barely remember to breathe.
Birds chirping, tea served, I’m guided to the other room where Dirk shows me a screen-printing table that Vera built herself. The surface is perforated and a vacuum is somehow duck-taped underneath, resulting in a simple and yet practical contraption that holds prints in place when ink needs to be rolled where it should be. She responds to my alarm by citing a workshop for women to learn screen-printing near Görlitzer Park. We share a proud moment applauding the efforts of Vera personally and of the city’s social and cultural elevation system.
[Holding up a print that says “IT FEELS GREAT NOT TO KNOW WHAT THE FUCK I’M DOING”] This is a rejected one… [To Vera, genuinely puzzled, but gently] Why? It looks very good? …
We made hundreds of these, staying up until four o’clock in the morning, in the dark, making prints for the market the next day…we made so many of these. And so now, it’s kind of over. We try to focus on different stuff. But this was the whole business aspect.
[About his duck book, portraying roughly twenty pages solely of Donald Duck portraits – gruesome and sickly. No two ducks are alike, and all are sweating or wide-eyed and emotionally or physically tortured.] I don't think they’re all suffering…but they don't seem to be having a great time. [Laughing, he turns to a different booklet.]
[My friend and I] started this magazine. It’s issue number “zero” and it’s gonna remain zero. The next one will be “zero-point-zero.” Lots of cocks. And this is one of my stories, “The Chicken Who Knew.”
> …So many multiple projects!
This one is with a different pen, it makes the style…I think I prefer this [referring to a certain style with a fat black pen, as opposed to another style that incorporates three different line thicknesses. If anything, his preferred style is simpler and has less depth – and more aggressive – than the delicate and multi-layered texture of the other style.] It’s so bland, and I don't have that many possibilities, and that's a good thing. But I’m still learning to work with different pens...this one is a bit more violent. This one has a pretty disturbing story about Grandma Satan or something like that. Pretty stupid [laughs]. These are drawn without any sketching, just going immediately. Which is not the best way to go. Like these are not very complex. I felt like I needed a bit more, I don't know, I needed a bit more life. These are sketched out first. I just use whiteout or cut it out if I fuck up. And I draw a lot of sketchbooks.
> You must have so many of these. Do you ever go back to them?
Sometimes. I can show you some old ones. This one is number twenty-nine, so I’ve got quite a lot of them.
> These are so intricate.
Maybe a bit too intricate.
> Is that even a thing?
I don't know… Here is a joke, it’s a Lochness monster... I was drawing a lot. Back then I had the impression that if you were talented you would automatically get good, and I was told you have to draw shitloads to get better. I didn't know until I was twenty-one, twenty-two. I was working with an animator and he said to draw four hours every day for years. So that's when I started drawing shitloads. I can look at it now from a distance. It was a sense of freedom, I guess…I’m better than I was, or worse than I was.
> You don't use colors that much.
Yeah, it’s very black and white. I’m color blind, so I don't like colors that much...These are the most recent ones. I like them better, they’re more secure. They’re disturbed, but better. But then again, when I look, there hasn't been much improvement over the years. Maybe there’s improvement… I want to get back to life drawing to condense, to loosen up and get posture and get real people in there, get better storytelling.
> The styles are so different, it’s almost like different people drew the 2008 sketchbook to the recent one. It’s less about improvement or not, it’s just changing.
Yeah, it’s changing. I used to think these were pretty bad.
> In terms of good storytelling… The protagonist character that gets mistreated by society, like in the recent Berliner movies Victoria or Oh Boy or the bunnies or This Little Piggy – what is the key to hitting close to home? Do you try to? Because it definitely comes across…
What I tried to do with the bunnies, it was so diary like, I told myself I needed to do one every day. If I felt depressed that day I went inside and really tried to pinpoint what it was that made me feel depressed or try to get the feeling of what it meant deep down inside. I used the bunnies to get close to the moment that I was in, so to say. This one [“This Little Piggy”] is very different. With the bunnies, I tried really hard to get inside of myself. With this one, also, but in a different way. This one is way more – for some reason I think a lot about the village I grew up in while drawing this one, and I try to think about childhood. Not that I had a very unhappy childhood, but shit happened that was very hard for me.
> Are you thinking of certain episodes or just of the setting and the people?
Yeah, the feeling, not necessarily that I’ve been tortured in front of an audience, like Piggy [laughs, and Vera hints a protest]. Well, in a way, if you look at it, it could have been. But it's a feeling, it’s very much my childhood feeling, against prejudice, and whatnot. So actually, it is a very personal thing, so it’s not surprising that I’m very tired when I draw this one.
> It’s even surprising to you?
With the bunnies I didn't see it while I was drawing it, I didn't have that much time to think about what I was drawing because it didn't take that much time to draw them either. With this one, I’m into this. It’s thirty-five pages and it’s probably gonna get to fifty pages. It’s just a bigger project and I get enveloped in it. Which is also very new to me, because I never really did that before. I’m actually forcing myself about this, much more.
Birds chirping, tea served, I’m guided to the other room where Dirk shows me a screen-printing table that Vera built herself. The surface is perforated and a vacuum is somehow duck-taped underneath, resulting in a simple and yet practical contraption that holds prints in place when ink needs to be rolled where it should be. She responds to my alarm by citing a workshop for women to learn screen-printing near Görlitzer Park. We share a proud moment applauding the efforts of Vera personally and of the city’s social and cultural elevation system.
[Holding up a print that says “IT FEELS GREAT NOT TO KNOW WHAT THE FUCK I’M DOING”] This is a rejected one… [To Vera, genuinely puzzled, but gently] Why? It looks very good? …
We made hundreds of these, staying up until four o’clock in the morning, in the dark, making prints for the market the next day…we made so many of these. And so now, it’s kind of over. We try to focus on different stuff. But this was the whole business aspect.
[About his duck book, portraying roughly twenty pages solely of Donald Duck portraits – gruesome and sickly. No two ducks are alike, and all are sweating or wide-eyed and emotionally or physically tortured.] I don't think they’re all suffering…but they don't seem to be having a great time. [Laughing, he turns to a different booklet.]
[My friend and I] started this magazine. It’s issue number “zero” and it’s gonna remain zero. The next one will be “zero-point-zero.” Lots of cocks. And this is one of my stories, “The Chicken Who Knew.”
> …So many multiple projects!
This one is with a different pen, it makes the style…I think I prefer this [referring to a certain style with a fat black pen, as opposed to another style that incorporates three different line thicknesses. If anything, his preferred style is simpler and has less depth – and more aggressive – than the delicate and multi-layered texture of the other style.] It’s so bland, and I don't have that many possibilities, and that's a good thing. But I’m still learning to work with different pens...this one is a bit more violent. This one has a pretty disturbing story about Grandma Satan or something like that. Pretty stupid [laughs]. These are drawn without any sketching, just going immediately. Which is not the best way to go. Like these are not very complex. I felt like I needed a bit more, I don't know, I needed a bit more life. These are sketched out first. I just use whiteout or cut it out if I fuck up. And I draw a lot of sketchbooks.
> You must have so many of these. Do you ever go back to them?
Sometimes. I can show you some old ones. This one is number twenty-nine, so I’ve got quite a lot of them.
> These are so intricate.
Maybe a bit too intricate.
> Is that even a thing?
I don't know… Here is a joke, it’s a Lochness monster... I was drawing a lot. Back then I had the impression that if you were talented you would automatically get good, and I was told you have to draw shitloads to get better. I didn't know until I was twenty-one, twenty-two. I was working with an animator and he said to draw four hours every day for years. So that's when I started drawing shitloads. I can look at it now from a distance. It was a sense of freedom, I guess…I’m better than I was, or worse than I was.
> You don't use colors that much.
Yeah, it’s very black and white. I’m color blind, so I don't like colors that much...These are the most recent ones. I like them better, they’re more secure. They’re disturbed, but better. But then again, when I look, there hasn't been much improvement over the years. Maybe there’s improvement… I want to get back to life drawing to condense, to loosen up and get posture and get real people in there, get better storytelling.
> The styles are so different, it’s almost like different people drew the 2008 sketchbook to the recent one. It’s less about improvement or not, it’s just changing.
Yeah, it’s changing. I used to think these were pretty bad.
> In terms of good storytelling… The protagonist character that gets mistreated by society, like in the recent Berliner movies Victoria or Oh Boy or the bunnies or This Little Piggy – what is the key to hitting close to home? Do you try to? Because it definitely comes across…
What I tried to do with the bunnies, it was so diary like, I told myself I needed to do one every day. If I felt depressed that day I went inside and really tried to pinpoint what it was that made me feel depressed or try to get the feeling of what it meant deep down inside. I used the bunnies to get close to the moment that I was in, so to say. This one [“This Little Piggy”] is very different. With the bunnies, I tried really hard to get inside of myself. With this one, also, but in a different way. This one is way more – for some reason I think a lot about the village I grew up in while drawing this one, and I try to think about childhood. Not that I had a very unhappy childhood, but shit happened that was very hard for me.
> Are you thinking of certain episodes or just of the setting and the people?
Yeah, the feeling, not necessarily that I’ve been tortured in front of an audience, like Piggy [laughs, and Vera hints a protest]. Well, in a way, if you look at it, it could have been. But it's a feeling, it’s very much my childhood feeling, against prejudice, and whatnot. So actually, it is a very personal thing, so it’s not surprising that I’m very tired when I draw this one.
> It’s even surprising to you?
With the bunnies I didn't see it while I was drawing it, I didn't have that much time to think about what I was drawing because it didn't take that much time to draw them either. With this one, I’m into this. It’s thirty-five pages and it’s probably gonna get to fifty pages. It’s just a bigger project and I get enveloped in it. Which is also very new to me, because I never really did that before. I’m actually forcing myself about this, much more.
> What is your relationship with exposure to inspiration versus focusing on own work?
I’m not extremely familiar with the medium yet, so I am looking at a lot of comics. But I can also relate to not looking at anything and going with the flow. Reading, still, is very important. Lectures. That's something I would never be able to let go. I need my head to be filled with ideas. I need understanding and I need to feel the world around me, so to say. It’s really that I’m trying to feel the constant feeling of being alive.
> Do you travel?
I’m not that well-traveled, but I’ve been to the South of France and in the Netherlands, I once lived in the forest for two months. I have culture shocks, but not completely. I would like to go to Asia. But then again everybody wants to do that.
> …Not necessarily! Do you think the feeling of being alive easier to do in Berlin?
I don't know. I have no idea. I don't think so. I think it’s got nothing to do with the city. You just have to walk out to see the sunset on Tempelhofer Feld, which is of course beautiful, you get the feeling you’re alive. But I’m not sure it has to do with the city. Basically, everything – right now I try to take in every moment. The only moment is – there’s only this moment. Maybe the city does help and I’m just not giving credit where credit is due. There’s a lot of inspiration from the city. Literary and musically, it’s about living in the city. It’s very full and angry and alive. There’s a lot of stuff that annoys me about the city. I care about people, and I want most people to be happy.
> Is that why you did the sprechstunde [a meet and draw event he used to do at the markets where he would draw peoples’ problems, a sort of psychologist-turned-illustrator-turned-listener event]?
The sprechstunde shows the love-and-hate relationship that I’ve got with people. Because I love to do it and it helps people sometimes, but it makes me want to – a lot of problems that people deal with comes from not realizing that they are alive. It’s really strange. They want to have a better job. They want to have a more creative job. But they want to have the same amount of money because they want to go on a holiday and have a nice apartment. You know, shit like that. And the only thing I can say about that is, shut the fuck up and don't be an idiot because that doesn't make any sense! And I think there are a lot of people that miss something. In some way, I feel pretty sorry for them. But then I also feel they can go fuck themselves.
> New York is pretty stress-centered. There is constant talk about stress. But then during the day or on social media they create a self that feigns grace and stress-free. But they don't address the problems – whereas Germans seem to talk about the problems themselves and they don't have stress because they face the problems directly.
That might be true, I don't know. I know a lot of people that are stressed out. I can be stressed out. But I decided not to be stressed out. It's a good thing to talk about it. There’s a psychological term for that, it’s called secondary feelings or something, that you get stressed about being stressed or scared about being scared. Which doesn't make any sense. But then again, we met this girl the other day, and she was working so incredibly hard to maintain that job, and I’m sure there are plenty of people like that in New York, who just work, for no particular reason, except then that they’ve got that job. And of course, I’m spoiled because I can draw and sit in the market and we live in Berlin and I can do something that I love, sometimes, but that seems a little bit distorted to me. But then again, I can look from the outside, which is the artist’s job anyway to do. We’re not part of the rabbit race to work hard. I knew this guy who studied graphic design, and very talented as well. And he started working for Adidas. Which is a great job, but then I thought you’re giving away your talent to be a shoe salesman? Because in a way that's what you are. I can’t make it any nicer than that. You make beautiful graphic design…for shoes. Who gives a flying fuck about those shoes?
> …A lot of people.
A lot of people seem to, and that's fine as well, but it’s very far detached from what I think is valuable. I play punk rock. I’m a bit more – I draw stupid comics and I’m a dude with a beard and long hair and bleh – I’m a little bit the ultimate alternative guy, so of course I don't care about shoes. I just don't get why some people do care about shoes or stuff like that, gadgets or good jobs or big money or having a big house which they’re never in. And I think a lot of people’s unhappiness comes from a certain detachment from something that actually makes sense, I guess. So that’s what I was doing with the sprechstunde. I basically told people to stop whining and get on with their lives. And sometimes you can see it was a jolt to the system that they needed. Because I guess sometimes people just need a jolt to the system. To just wake up, and – and it’s not bad if you don't enjoy your job, just change your job or be poor for a little while, who cares! We are willing to go back to a shittier apartment if we can’t pay for this apartment. Anytime. We’re willing to do anything to keep our way of living. And if it means going back to a 50 square-meter apartment – it would be nice [not to], but we wouldn’t care. I think it's a mental attitude that people have to – a lot of people need growth all the time, like companies just need growth and growth and growth, and that's not that important. To me, actually, it seems like people are very sad, where everybody is, like you said, pretending they’ve got no problems, and everybody’s got these islands surrounded by feeling positive and I’m a great guy, of course, and I’m sitting under a palm tree at the beach and I’ve got a great job, and everybody’s getting detached from each other. And I think that's crazy. That doesn't make any sense. And I’m wondering if it always was like that, and I don't think so. I can’t believe it.
I’m not extremely familiar with the medium yet, so I am looking at a lot of comics. But I can also relate to not looking at anything and going with the flow. Reading, still, is very important. Lectures. That's something I would never be able to let go. I need my head to be filled with ideas. I need understanding and I need to feel the world around me, so to say. It’s really that I’m trying to feel the constant feeling of being alive.
> Do you travel?
I’m not that well-traveled, but I’ve been to the South of France and in the Netherlands, I once lived in the forest for two months. I have culture shocks, but not completely. I would like to go to Asia. But then again everybody wants to do that.
> …Not necessarily! Do you think the feeling of being alive easier to do in Berlin?
I don't know. I have no idea. I don't think so. I think it’s got nothing to do with the city. You just have to walk out to see the sunset on Tempelhofer Feld, which is of course beautiful, you get the feeling you’re alive. But I’m not sure it has to do with the city. Basically, everything – right now I try to take in every moment. The only moment is – there’s only this moment. Maybe the city does help and I’m just not giving credit where credit is due. There’s a lot of inspiration from the city. Literary and musically, it’s about living in the city. It’s very full and angry and alive. There’s a lot of stuff that annoys me about the city. I care about people, and I want most people to be happy.
> Is that why you did the sprechstunde [a meet and draw event he used to do at the markets where he would draw peoples’ problems, a sort of psychologist-turned-illustrator-turned-listener event]?
The sprechstunde shows the love-and-hate relationship that I’ve got with people. Because I love to do it and it helps people sometimes, but it makes me want to – a lot of problems that people deal with comes from not realizing that they are alive. It’s really strange. They want to have a better job. They want to have a more creative job. But they want to have the same amount of money because they want to go on a holiday and have a nice apartment. You know, shit like that. And the only thing I can say about that is, shut the fuck up and don't be an idiot because that doesn't make any sense! And I think there are a lot of people that miss something. In some way, I feel pretty sorry for them. But then I also feel they can go fuck themselves.
> New York is pretty stress-centered. There is constant talk about stress. But then during the day or on social media they create a self that feigns grace and stress-free. But they don't address the problems – whereas Germans seem to talk about the problems themselves and they don't have stress because they face the problems directly.
That might be true, I don't know. I know a lot of people that are stressed out. I can be stressed out. But I decided not to be stressed out. It's a good thing to talk about it. There’s a psychological term for that, it’s called secondary feelings or something, that you get stressed about being stressed or scared about being scared. Which doesn't make any sense. But then again, we met this girl the other day, and she was working so incredibly hard to maintain that job, and I’m sure there are plenty of people like that in New York, who just work, for no particular reason, except then that they’ve got that job. And of course, I’m spoiled because I can draw and sit in the market and we live in Berlin and I can do something that I love, sometimes, but that seems a little bit distorted to me. But then again, I can look from the outside, which is the artist’s job anyway to do. We’re not part of the rabbit race to work hard. I knew this guy who studied graphic design, and very talented as well. And he started working for Adidas. Which is a great job, but then I thought you’re giving away your talent to be a shoe salesman? Because in a way that's what you are. I can’t make it any nicer than that. You make beautiful graphic design…for shoes. Who gives a flying fuck about those shoes?
> …A lot of people.
A lot of people seem to, and that's fine as well, but it’s very far detached from what I think is valuable. I play punk rock. I’m a bit more – I draw stupid comics and I’m a dude with a beard and long hair and bleh – I’m a little bit the ultimate alternative guy, so of course I don't care about shoes. I just don't get why some people do care about shoes or stuff like that, gadgets or good jobs or big money or having a big house which they’re never in. And I think a lot of people’s unhappiness comes from a certain detachment from something that actually makes sense, I guess. So that’s what I was doing with the sprechstunde. I basically told people to stop whining and get on with their lives. And sometimes you can see it was a jolt to the system that they needed. Because I guess sometimes people just need a jolt to the system. To just wake up, and – and it’s not bad if you don't enjoy your job, just change your job or be poor for a little while, who cares! We are willing to go back to a shittier apartment if we can’t pay for this apartment. Anytime. We’re willing to do anything to keep our way of living. And if it means going back to a 50 square-meter apartment – it would be nice [not to], but we wouldn’t care. I think it's a mental attitude that people have to – a lot of people need growth all the time, like companies just need growth and growth and growth, and that's not that important. To me, actually, it seems like people are very sad, where everybody is, like you said, pretending they’ve got no problems, and everybody’s got these islands surrounded by feeling positive and I’m a great guy, of course, and I’m sitting under a palm tree at the beach and I’ve got a great job, and everybody’s getting detached from each other. And I think that's crazy. That doesn't make any sense. And I’m wondering if it always was like that, and I don't think so. I can’t believe it.
> I think it’s definitely been increased because of social media. It's a detaching kind of tool.
It is extremely. It seems like it’s bringing people together, but it’s not. It’s detaching everybody from everybody else. And that's something that I really want to avoid. I want things to get personal again. I want people to talk about their personal lives. And I want conversations in the street with people about everything.
> I loved your print with the bunnies all looking on their phones and it says “The zombie apocalypse is already here” – it’s so true.
It’s even more now with this augmented reality thing. People are looking on their phones now searching for fake Pokémon. And I got a problem with it. I don't want to be the guy that's got a problem with everything that's new, you know…But, I am?! [Laughs] it makes me pissed off to see it happening. People are supposed to bump into each other because they are looking for the same Pokémon, sure, but are they having a fucking conversation? They take a picture and post it on Instagram – that's not a conversation. That's not real connection, that's not talking about feelings or whatever. I hate those little machines, smartphones and tablets. They’re a fucking curse.
> I think it's a lot easier to accept new things. It’s good if you’re able to take those new tools to your advantage. But if you’re neutral, it’s easier to just let it happen and it’s harder to question it, which is something that I really appreciate your doing. And I see that sentiment comes across in your work too. I know it must be very hard. Drawing one page and being physically tired, that's so much work that not many people are willing to go through.
It is, it’s drawing some pretty dark, scary emotions. And you should be very scared. Right now I’m just drawing torture! Everybody knows where this is going. It’s not going to be pretty [laughs].
> At the same time that “This Little Piggy” is shocking, in light of what’s happening right now…
For me, it’s the bunnies-point-two. I don't know if it’s got the same feel or if people are going to like it as much, because the bunnies were relatively successful – I mean, we were able to live off them – and so it’s kind of scary to make a new step, but it is a new step nonetheless. I don't know how people are going to react, and I think it’s more difficult than the bunnies. It’s darker, but I think, better. It’s also just started. I don't know, I have no idea. It’s scary. [We discuss other works that we associate with fucked up protagonists showing how fucked up others are by doing even more fucked up things as the tale of the times, including manga “Museum” by and “Jimmy the Homicidal Psychopath” by .] I have to say, we are living in interesting times. Somewhat scary times as well. Your country is pretty fucked up, England’s pretty fucked up. But if you want to raise your level, New York is the place to be. The best people that we know here move to New York, because their quality is too good for New York. It would be nice to visit, put some books in the shops.
> There’s an audience for your work in New York, people are always looking for new and raw content.
Someone in California is trying to work with the bunnies. So we’ve got one foot in the door in the United States [laughs]. We’re not there yet completely, but we should just go, and do an apartment trade and sit there and see what happens, get to know people or whatever. For us, New York seems magical – I guess for you, it’s just home.
> For me it’s always magical too. I never take it for granted. Berlin is not as different though, in some ways New York has a similar feel, Berlin is just broad and New York is high.
The comic world is clearly different from the art world. When I sell my stuff to publishers it costs 50 euros when an artists sells their stuff to a gallery it takes 60 thousand. So I don't consider it art.
> Art is changing now though. There are new platforms that treat art as more accessible, more affordable for younger audience too. It’s broadening the boundaries of how art is defined, for better or for worse.
Maybe, but there will always be this higher realm of artists. Which is kind of nice. We tried to sell in London and we didn't do well at all, we had just started and had no idea what we were doing, but its good, it means there is room for us to grow. But I loved the vibe in London – being in Victoria, so many people rushing, and if you stand still someone will tell you don't just stand still! I feel like that in Berlin: I have places to go and work to do because I have a life and I want to feel alive! But maybe we’re too flaky for London or New York, where we can just be relaxed too – it's a balance… What are you finding so far in Berlin?
> Different values of working for life versus living for work, and how that entails a different definition of freedom. People are more stressed out in New York, but if people channel that self-interested stress in the right direction, production also happens rapidly. It’s not a hierarchy, just a change in values causing a change in production.
It's a lot slower here, which is not necessarily a bad thing. Comics are so much harder to sell than cartoons, from a business perspective. Cartoons, you can look at and tell if you want it. Comics, you need to take it home and take time to see if you like it.
[Showing me the thirteen-year-old cat and the bunny animations back in his room.] This is the pilot that got me a TV series that aired in the Netherlands. I did ten episodes in eight weeks. We were living together in a one-room apartment – Vera was sleeping in the back and I was working, nonstop. It was crazy. But some of the episodes are quite nice. Sunday morning television. [The one he likes best involves an under-your-bed monster coming out of the sink and the bathtub and confusing a teeth-brushing bunny who ultimately can’t get a glimpse of either but instead gets eaten by one that comes out of the vent.] Pretty nightmaric [sic]. This one’s not too good, I think – the last three I was way too tired to actually do something good. Doesn't really work [Bunnies using ladders to put up the moon and it falls. In another one, a bunny is looking at a moon that changes shapes and ultimately eats the bunny.] This is the last one, I had to finish two in one week. I was incredibly tired while making this one… That was the crazy bunny series, from 2014. [I’ll] never do that again.
[Inspirations: H. P. Lovecraft’s Thing under the Door Mat and Infinite Jest.]
It is extremely. It seems like it’s bringing people together, but it’s not. It’s detaching everybody from everybody else. And that's something that I really want to avoid. I want things to get personal again. I want people to talk about their personal lives. And I want conversations in the street with people about everything.
> I loved your print with the bunnies all looking on their phones and it says “The zombie apocalypse is already here” – it’s so true.
It’s even more now with this augmented reality thing. People are looking on their phones now searching for fake Pokémon. And I got a problem with it. I don't want to be the guy that's got a problem with everything that's new, you know…But, I am?! [Laughs] it makes me pissed off to see it happening. People are supposed to bump into each other because they are looking for the same Pokémon, sure, but are they having a fucking conversation? They take a picture and post it on Instagram – that's not a conversation. That's not real connection, that's not talking about feelings or whatever. I hate those little machines, smartphones and tablets. They’re a fucking curse.
> I think it's a lot easier to accept new things. It’s good if you’re able to take those new tools to your advantage. But if you’re neutral, it’s easier to just let it happen and it’s harder to question it, which is something that I really appreciate your doing. And I see that sentiment comes across in your work too. I know it must be very hard. Drawing one page and being physically tired, that's so much work that not many people are willing to go through.
It is, it’s drawing some pretty dark, scary emotions. And you should be very scared. Right now I’m just drawing torture! Everybody knows where this is going. It’s not going to be pretty [laughs].
> At the same time that “This Little Piggy” is shocking, in light of what’s happening right now…
For me, it’s the bunnies-point-two. I don't know if it’s got the same feel or if people are going to like it as much, because the bunnies were relatively successful – I mean, we were able to live off them – and so it’s kind of scary to make a new step, but it is a new step nonetheless. I don't know how people are going to react, and I think it’s more difficult than the bunnies. It’s darker, but I think, better. It’s also just started. I don't know, I have no idea. It’s scary. [We discuss other works that we associate with fucked up protagonists showing how fucked up others are by doing even more fucked up things as the tale of the times, including manga “Museum” by and “Jimmy the Homicidal Psychopath” by .] I have to say, we are living in interesting times. Somewhat scary times as well. Your country is pretty fucked up, England’s pretty fucked up. But if you want to raise your level, New York is the place to be. The best people that we know here move to New York, because their quality is too good for New York. It would be nice to visit, put some books in the shops.
> There’s an audience for your work in New York, people are always looking for new and raw content.
Someone in California is trying to work with the bunnies. So we’ve got one foot in the door in the United States [laughs]. We’re not there yet completely, but we should just go, and do an apartment trade and sit there and see what happens, get to know people or whatever. For us, New York seems magical – I guess for you, it’s just home.
> For me it’s always magical too. I never take it for granted. Berlin is not as different though, in some ways New York has a similar feel, Berlin is just broad and New York is high.
The comic world is clearly different from the art world. When I sell my stuff to publishers it costs 50 euros when an artists sells their stuff to a gallery it takes 60 thousand. So I don't consider it art.
> Art is changing now though. There are new platforms that treat art as more accessible, more affordable for younger audience too. It’s broadening the boundaries of how art is defined, for better or for worse.
Maybe, but there will always be this higher realm of artists. Which is kind of nice. We tried to sell in London and we didn't do well at all, we had just started and had no idea what we were doing, but its good, it means there is room for us to grow. But I loved the vibe in London – being in Victoria, so many people rushing, and if you stand still someone will tell you don't just stand still! I feel like that in Berlin: I have places to go and work to do because I have a life and I want to feel alive! But maybe we’re too flaky for London or New York, where we can just be relaxed too – it's a balance… What are you finding so far in Berlin?
> Different values of working for life versus living for work, and how that entails a different definition of freedom. People are more stressed out in New York, but if people channel that self-interested stress in the right direction, production also happens rapidly. It’s not a hierarchy, just a change in values causing a change in production.
It's a lot slower here, which is not necessarily a bad thing. Comics are so much harder to sell than cartoons, from a business perspective. Cartoons, you can look at and tell if you want it. Comics, you need to take it home and take time to see if you like it.
[Showing me the thirteen-year-old cat and the bunny animations back in his room.] This is the pilot that got me a TV series that aired in the Netherlands. I did ten episodes in eight weeks. We were living together in a one-room apartment – Vera was sleeping in the back and I was working, nonstop. It was crazy. But some of the episodes are quite nice. Sunday morning television. [The one he likes best involves an under-your-bed monster coming out of the sink and the bathtub and confusing a teeth-brushing bunny who ultimately can’t get a glimpse of either but instead gets eaten by one that comes out of the vent.] Pretty nightmaric [sic]. This one’s not too good, I think – the last three I was way too tired to actually do something good. Doesn't really work [Bunnies using ladders to put up the moon and it falls. In another one, a bunny is looking at a moon that changes shapes and ultimately eats the bunny.] This is the last one, I had to finish two in one week. I was incredibly tired while making this one… That was the crazy bunny series, from 2014. [I’ll] never do that again.
[Inspirations: H. P. Lovecraft’s Thing under the Door Mat and Infinite Jest.]