12 october 2022, Oscar van Gelderen
The studio of... Jonat Deelstra
What does the ideal studio look like? How much time does an artist spend in his studio? Is it a sacred place? This week in the series 'The Artist’s Studio' it’s Jonat Deelstra, whose work can be seen in the group show 'Bloom' at GoMulan Gallery in Amsterdam until October 16.
Do you visit your studio every day?
Preferably, I do! My mental state must allow for it. For the past two years I've been in my studio almost every day, but this summer I started to deteriorate mentally. Being alone every day is quite confronting. When I'm in my flow it's the best feeling there is – but when I'm insecure it's debilitating to be alone all day. Since a few months I occasionally do production jobs (building festivals, flower arranging, beanbag transport, etc.). I find it a wonderful change to work with other people so that I am not subjected to the whims of my own mind all day long. Nowadays, I often invite friends to work in my studio. That's a good combination: the depth of my work mixed with superficial gags.
NPO radio 4 OPIUM atelier (2019)
What time do you leave for your studio, and how: on foot, by bicycle, public transport or car?
Since my girlfriend and I live together, I have much more rhythm in my life. I keep to office hours, nine to five (or eight to six, depending on how busy it is). That may not fit the classic idea of 'the artist', but it works very well for me. I am mega-productive, and always have energy to work. I think I owe that to the fact that I eat healthy and sleep well. Regularity does me good. I also like extreme weekends full of self-destruction and obscure parties. When it is Sunday evening, the calm comes over me again.
With regard to transport: whether it’s rain or shine, I always cycle to my studio. Eleven kilometers one way, and eleven kilometers back. I've always detested sports, so this is my physical concession to myself.
Do you stick to certain rituals in your studio? Music or silence?
I used to like smoking in my studio (which is actually not allowed). I quit smoking because I got tired of it. Tobacco drains my energy. Now, I light an incense stick in the morning, just to be able to set something on fire.
Music is of great importance. I listen to Dublab Archives or NTS Radio. I don't have a preference for any genre in particular, but I like experimental stuff. The music must have an alienating effect. Thus, when I enter my studio from the 'normal world', I enter an alternative world. A mental state in which normal action becomes impossible. While painting, I find it important to drive myself to just manageable madness. Weird music and an awful lot of coffee cause a disorder in my head that have produced the best works so far.
Furthermore, I never use alcohol or drugs while working. I keep those things strictly separate.
Art Residency in Broedplaats BOGOTA. Photo by Rolf Meurkens (2019)
How important is light to you?
For me, the subject of 'light' is very important, it plays a central role in my painting. This week I found out that the lighting in my studio sucks. The windows are in an unfortunate place in the building, so the sun hardly ever reaches the inside of my studio. Last week the sun briefly shone through the windows, and suddenly I really saw the pigments at my work. The colours were much more vibrant than I thought. Actually, I've been working with bad light for years, and I don't mind that. I like to relinquish control (for example, to the ceramic kiln putting the finishing touches on my sculptures, or to my father telling me how to proceed with my new paintings). I also consider painting in poor light as a form of relinquishing authority. When I view my paintings in a gallery or at an art fair, the colours are completely different. Those lamps take my work to a higher level. I don't even know my work that way.
What does your work process look like? Do you work everywhere and all the time or does work only commence the moment you enter your studio?
Not an hour goes by that I don't think about art somehow. Whether it’s conceptual, visual or in a philosophical way. Having said that, I don't see that as work. If I'm at a party where I don't connect, I can quietly look at a garbage bag with nice light on it and think: how would I paint the reflection of that blue light on that shiny, wrinkled bag?
Almost compulsively, I take pictures of the current status of my works before I go home. I go crazy when I get home and can't look at a picture - I need it to plan the steps for the next day. Sometimes I forget to take pictures before going on vacation, then I experience a form of heartbreak, as if I am a soldier going to the front line without a picture of his loved one.
How much time do you spend on average per day in your studio?
On average I work seven to nine hours a day. When exhibitions are approaching, I can quietly work through fourteen hours. I shouldn't do that too often, but when I do, I need to communicate well with my girlfriend. That has gone wrong in the past, when I am in a trance, I no longer look at my phone and I no longer contact the outside world – very irritating for my social environment.
It also depends on the type of studio in which I work, for example in the GinDS residence in Hoofddorp. I found myself quartered in a sort of World War II bunker. The working days were shorter there, because it was freezing in there. My overalls and cloths were constantly damp. I also once worked in an attic at Broedplaats BOGOTA in Halfweg, where the roof was made of glass, but no windows could be opened. That summer I drank 3.5 litres of water a day. Working eight hours in a row was impossible there. Sloshing with sweat, I did paint my most tropical works there.
Is your studio a sacred place?
No, I think I'd be abusing the word sacred. I would keep a sacred place clean, bless it and caress it. I want work to be done in my studio. It can get dirty. As far as I'm concerned, you burn it to the ground. Then I just start all over again somewhere else. Nor do I see artists as exalted beings. My admiration for some artists is enormous, but I can equally appreciate certain bakers, waiters or programmers.
My studio was once burglared by a group of teenagers, they had used my graphic work as a doormat for their muddy shoes and shitted my toilet (they didn’t even bother to flush). That felt like sacrilege.
Do you receive visits there; collectors, curators or fellow artists?
My visitors mainly consist of friends who come to work in my studio with their laptop. It's nice to be around people who are also busy with their own stuff. Interested parties or fellow artists also visit regularly. I am tired after such an appointment. Having to take connoisseurs along in my still unfinished and insane stories for me, takes a lot of energy.
What is the most beautiful studio you have ever seen?
I've never seen it with my own eyes – and it's a bit of a cliché answer – but Francis Bacon's studio is the most beautiful studio there is. I would happily describe Bacon’s studio as sacred. I would never be able to work there myself, it is an indescribable mess. For anyone who doesn't know it, look it up, it's fantastic.
What does the ideal studio look like?
I think a studio shouldn't be too comfortable. Convenience, comfort and well-being are the worst enemies of productive creativity. It extinguishes your fire. The ideal space should be large, there should be enough room to view work from a distance. There must also be the possibility to work on several works at the same time. Ideally, a philosophically minded neighbour lives in the room next to you. Hopefully that neighbour is also hard of hearing, so the music can be loud. There are a number of plants, so that even if you are in an artist block yourself, something will continue to grow in the workspace. Even if you look outside through the large windows, you see a lot of beautiful things. But there is also a lot of ugly. It is not idyllic, 'paradise' is another thing that destroys creativity. Get lost. No, this ideal studio is located in a very ugly place, with lots of greenery.
