18 Questions With...
Erris Huigens

I’m inspired by my everyday surroundings. I am drawn to the constant cycle of construction and destruction. The human tendency to control all aspects of life. Of course, I find art, design, and music to be inspiring, and I could compile a list of exhibitions, projects, artists and beautiful things that have inspired me, but I am mostly inspired by the things that (I think) are often overlooked. I see art in subtle moments. I like observing.

I want the viewer to see reality through my eyes and how I translate it into my work. What makes me happy is working with minimal forms, objects, samples, and documentation in space - highlighting their dynamics through my own perspective.

To me it is important to document the dynamics of change over time. My work may appear minimal or one-dimensional, but I see it as deeply layered. I simply sample from reality, rearrange elements, and search for their essence.

I avoid grand themes. My work reflects me, my surroundings, and a personal way of seeing and acting. I believe that focusing on a personal relationship with these elements leaves room for viewers to interpret freely, even connecting them to broader social or political themes in today’s chaotic world. I do have a strong opinion about many things, but I like to keep these away from my work.

I was an introverted kid, rarely in the foreground. I learned by observing, struggled to fit in, but got along with almost everyone. I liked going into nature. I grew up near forests, with Amsterdam and Utrecht close enough to explore the city too. I did like to draw, play sports, watch cartoons on televison.

Work should come first.

I went to art school but didn’t take it too seriously. Later, I became more focused. It was all trial and error (joining things, experimenting). I was drawn to public space early on, influenced by friends doing graffiti. I started making art outside and loved the freedom of creating what I wanted, when I wanted. It was serious in its own way, grounded in freedom. I still love that idea: though the tension between artistic freedom and the business side remains a struggle, it’s also what keeps me engaged.

It’s rewarding when new work and opportunities grow from previous projects. I trust that something interesting always comes from that. I could say I dream of being prominent and doing ideal collaborations, but in truth, some interventions I’ve done in incredible abandoned factories already feel like dream projects realized. To me, these are timeless void-works, created in buildings more beautiful than any museum or institution, so I feel no pressure to chase anything else.

Right now, I’m focused on making a book. Publishing, archiving, and documenting have become increasingly important to me.

I still feel the need to make art. Beyond everyday life and family, it’s always on my mind. What drives me is how personal it all feels. I can’t imagine not observing, creating, or seeking new initiatives. That impulse isn’t going anywhere.

Music is energy. It all depends on the kind of energy I’m seeking in that moment. I like to be very open minded about what I listen to. I focus mainly on electronic music, ranging from ambient to IDM to techno. Creating artwork for labels like Delsin Records has connected me closely to the electronic music scene - another reason I’m drawn to this sound.

Sweat pants, size L, from a Dutch store called HEMA.

"You could make a lot of money if you keep on making paintings like this."

Work in education or healthcare. I’ve already done some teaching, and I now spend a few hours a week working in the care home where my father lives. It’s a way to be there for others, which is a welcome contrast to the self-focused nature of being an artist.

Wine.

The Creative Act: A Way of Being by Rick Rubin. I recently read it. I liked it. I mean, it's not a bible for creatives, but I appreciate his perspective.

I tend to take on too many projects at once. I’m aiming for more focused, in-depth work on just a few.

Nothing matters more than putting loved ones first.

Listening to music on headphones while biking.

I’m not sure I’ve ever had a perfect day. But imperfect moments can make a day feel close to it, I guess. Imperfection shows up in countless ways, of course. I like weeks where each day feels different - a mix of going places, seeing new things, and having lots of interactions. I think many people relate to this - after a full, active day, the perfect follow-up can be one of doing almost nothing. Perfect imperfection.