Christoph Niemann: a new exercise in seeing
A few weeks ago, I came across Netflix’s new original documentary series “Abstract: The Art of Design,” which introduces the creative process and work of different designers, artists and architects. Its first episode features Christoph Niemann, a Berlin based illustrator, artist and author whose work I was already familiar with. Featured regularly on the covers of The New Yorker, WIRED and The New York Times, Niemann is a favorite illustrator of mine. I find his work utterly simple and witty —especially his “Sunday Sketching” project.
“I started an Instagram project called 'Sunday Sketches'. In terms of the response I’ve got, they’ve been some of the better stuff I’ve been doing but on the other hand, they’re the most useless things I’ve ever done.”
Feeling the need to break out of his routine, Niemann started this project about a few years ago. Every Sunday, he would randomly select an everyday object like a sock, a, hammer or a pair of scissors and put it on a blank piece of paper. He would then create an illustration by drawing around the object. He never knew what we would end up drawing. A sock would turn into a t-rex; a fruit into a horse, or a baseball mat or bear belly; a hammer into a football player’s golden leg; and a pair of scissors into a lady’s legs.
Perhaps, one of the reasons why Niemann enjoys “Sunday Sketching” so much is because of its spontaneous nature. Unlike his professional work, he doesn’t plan these sketches. They just “come to him” when he’s observing his surroundings.
“There’s almost zero control there. For my professional work, I need control because I need to be able to tweak, to adjust, to plan. But these “Sunday Sketches” are un- plannable. All the good ones just happen by me, just staring at something. Like moving around. the light, and all of a sudden, there’s a highlight or a shadow and then ‘Oh, now there’s something happening.’
After watching his “Abstract” episode, I decided to purchase his book with the same name to learn more about his creative process and unpublished sketches. The great thing about these sketches is that they're an exercise in seeing. The more you do it, the better you get at it.
“The kind of humor that I’m interested in is the kind that requires your intelligence. You [readers] put things together. All I do is put the building blocks out there, but you have to do the connecting.”
When Niemann presents a visual pun, he doesn’t deliver the “punchline.” Instead, he leaves that part to the viewer, resulting in an “a-ha moment.” It is this very moment that makes him want to create more. So, when I started experimenting with the plastic bag, I took a similar approach. I wanted my “scenes” to make people go “a-ha.”
"No-Shave November" was the first scene I created. I manipulated the plastic bag into the shape of a beard and put on a perplexed face to reference “Movember”: the time of the year when men grow out their facial hair to raise awareness of men’s health issues, such as testicular and prostate cancer.
No-Shave November
For my second scene, I decided to make use of the material properties of the bag: plastic. Its half-transparent nature made me instantly think of jellyfish. I had seen Niemann do a similar thing before, so I wondered if I could do the same. I tied the plastic bag on top of a stool. The legs of the stool became the legs of the jellyfish and the plastic bag became its head. The end result was “Jellyfish".
Jellyfish
For my third scene, I cheated (a little). Before starting this exercise, I had restricted myself to use the same plastic bag over and over again. I did not just break my only rule and used a couple of plastic bags, but also used a black plastic bag too to create ”Be Different”. The work is meant to encourage us to be different, to be the black sheep in a herd of white.
Be Different
For the following scenes, I decided to take a different approach and get inside the plastic bag with my camera. I captured scenes which resembled certain moments from my everyday life.
Raindrops on a window (left)
On the subway (center)
After a game of blind man’s guff (right)
The 1-Michelin star chef
Parachute
