Inspiration: Piet Paris

I had the privilege of attending the private preview of The Sketch Show, the new exhibition by Piet Paris. I still remember studying his work in school and being introduced to a new way of creating collages and illustrations through it. And now, I have had the chance to meet both him and his work in person.

"You can walk on it, you know," Piet said to me, pointing at the floor covered with sketches. It gave me the illusion that I had stepped into his studio, interrupted him in the middle of a sketching session, and could trip over pencils at any moment.

As I walked further into the space, I found myself surrounded by a feeling of controlled chaos. The room was filled with sketches, carefully displayed side by side against white walls and black panels. Everything was neatly contained within its designated space. Yet all it took was graphite on paper to make the illustrations feel so dynamic that they seemed ready to leap off the page.

In some drawings, the graphite had been applied heavily, almost scratching the surface, creating a stronger sense of movement and shadow. In others, it appeared lighter and more controlled, as if the hand behind it knew exactly how every line should look before it touched the paper. Certain compositions reappeared throughout the exhibition, yet none were identical. Together, they formed a beautiful timeline of searching, experimenting, and ultimately arriving at a final result.

As I admired the sketches, filled with elegance, dynamic poses, and geometric forms, Piet began explaining how he arrived at the composition of a hand.

"At one point, while sketching, I was trying to make not only the poses but also the hands look more elegant. Eventually, I discovered that a hand appears much more elegant when I draw two finger joints instead of the anatomically correct three."

"Over the years, I developed my own way of working, but it actually originates from my own weaknesses." - Piet Paris

This quote from an interview with Het Parool stood out to me. It perfectly explains what allows work to connect with others and what gives it a soul.

We live in a world where we want everything immediately, and preferably in the most perfect form possible. Instant gratification. I fall into that trap regularly. And in some cases, it has already become reality. If I want a pair of shoes today, I can order them and have them delivered tomorrow. Recently, I was even offered the opportunity to watch the biopic about Michael Jackson at someone's home while it was still showing in cinemas.

Things used to be different. A few decades ago, you could only own a film after it had finished its theatrical run, premiered on television, and eventually been released for purchase. Everyday life demanded patience, and that was completely normal.

Today, however, it feels as though we are constantly being pushed to move faster and consume faster. You can type a prompt into AI and suddenly have... art?

In that quote, Piet talks about years. Years of searching. Years of discovering what suits you and learning to let go of what no longer does. Years spent transforming weaknesses into strengths, turning them into advantages rather than obstacles.

Just like those two finger joints. Anatomically, they might be considered a flaw, but for his work they represent the perfect balance between reality and expression. Finding that balance required courage. The courage to slow down and keep searching for what truly works.

There is something wonderfully ironic about the fact that quick sketches can teach us how to slow down.

As a person, I often feel chaotic. Feel, not am. Fortunately, I can distinguish between the two. People are usually surprised when I say that because I apparently do not look like someone who feels chaotic.

Yet I often recognize that feeling in my sketches. They seem to mirror that inner chaos. Because of that association, sharing rough sketches can feel incredibly vulnerable. It feels like revealing an unfinished edge of myself, something I would rather present in a more organized form.

With this exhibition, Piet has revealed his raw and chaotic side, and it is breathtakingly beautiful. His weaknesses give his work a soul. They give it something deeply human, something we can genuinely connect with. We can want everything instantly, but Piet remains a reminder that good things take time to develop. And that it is precisely that development which makes the work valuable.

He has inspired me to share more of my own process, no matter how exposed or vulnerable it may feel.

One day, I hope to own an original work by Piet Paris. For now, I am more than happy with this print, which will forever remind me of this special day and of meeting him for the very first time.

Another highlight of the day was meeting Nancy. We had a wonderful conversation and discovered many shared interests. It is reassuring to realize how easily you can sometimes find people with whom you genuinely connect.

Maybe being a recluse is not such a good idea after all.