Kazuma Eekman is a Rotterdam-based artist working with several mediums and techniques, but mainly acrylic painting. Kazuma also cooks and experiments with food as part of Kazuma en Eva koken, and is an avid runner. This issue features an acrylic painting based on Kazuma’s memory of his family house’s study in the early 2000s. We met at a vacant mental health clinic-turned-workspace, talking about solitude, 10-day video game benders and lying on your resume.
What have you been working on lately?
I’ve been working on a short animated film and a recipe zine for my cooking endeavors with Eva (Eva & Kazuma koken), both thanks to funding by Droom en Daad. Their Makersloket –a COVID-19 initiative granting quick financial aid for Rotterdam-based artists– allowed me to just have fun on these small-scale projects, and experiment freely without feeling the need to create some prestigious art project. I think having that opportunity to mess around without any real financial and artistic pressure is important for one’s artistry.
In an interview from 2014, you mentioned the process of figuring out the artist’s life. Have you figured it out yet?
I’m still trying to make sense of it as I go, but I did come to realize that that process in itself is probably what the artist’s life is about. I’d even say you stop being an artist once you do find an answer to that question.
What’s your take on collaboration?
There’s definitely great value in collaborative effort and I have started to enjoy that more and more lately. Different people offer different perspectives, which can often be enlightening and a welcome distraction from the confines of your own ideas. At the same time, I do tend to focus best when I work alone and truly need that solitude for deep work.
Speaking of solitude, you mentioned watching an unusual amount of TV by yourself when you where younger, as illustrated by your graduation project ‘’I Was Raised By Television’’.
I learned a great deal about navigating life through television. That might even be true for our generation as a whole. At the time of that project, I noticed that a lot of peoples’ conversations revolved around that week’s episode of Game of Thrones. It fascinated me that one could form meaningful social connections by virtue of being alone, sitting in front of a TV.
Isn’t it fascinating how certain traits seep into everything you do throughout your life? Every hobby I’ve ever had was probably subconsciously picked for the sole reason of being able to do it alone.
Do you think there’s something wrong with us?
There might. Would you consider yourself an autodidact?
It’s definitely easier for me to study at my own pace, as opposed to following a curriculum. I remember these administrative spreadsheets in college that didn’t make any sense until I graduated and had to do my own bookkeeping. Working these things out by yourself and absorbing them at your own tempo is a luxury in my opinion, although I do envy people who thrive in school seemingly effortless. Then again, who really cares about my fine arts degree? I’ve never heard of clients that check if you have in fact finished your bachelor’s. Which is not to say I’m an advocate for lying on your resume.
Does reflection play any part in your creative process?
I work intuitively and will often start from nothing more than a feeling or vague idea, yet I do find reflecting upon my work afterwards important to make sense of the process. Last year when I got COVID-19, I spent most of my 10-day quarantine playing video games, which led to making paintings of video game screenshots. In hindsight, reflecting on that process justified spending all that time playing video games. It’s funny how you can feel the need to justify something you thoroughly enjoyed at the moment.
Wasn’t it Bertrand Russel that said that the time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time?
Maybe so, but in light of a 10-day gaming bender, society might disagree on that.
Speaking of societal pressure, you mentioned limiting your use of social media.
The great duality of social media is that it simultaneously caters to the feeling of being connected and informed, and feeling endlessly lonely. Though at heart, I’m a techno-optimist. I can’t wait for AI to take over and make all my decisions for me.
Any last thoughts?
Backing up a bit about being an artist, I think the most important thing you can do is show up every day and do the work, even if that means you just stare at a piece of paper and you have nothing to show for it at the end of the day. Good days and bad days are distributed equally, and it’s important to realize that they’re also equally vital to the creative process. Somewhere along the way I decided that while making art is terribly important to me, I don’t necessarily need to live exclusively off of it, and I’ve learned to be ok with that.
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