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Will: All right, hello and welcome everyone to another episode of Waiting to Be Signed, a very special interview episode. We got Trinity here this morning, and we are joined by Jacek Markusiewicz. Pretty close.
Jacek Markusiewicz: Pretty close, I think.
Will: We've had a string of tough names recently, but I feel like it makes us better people.
Jacek Markusiewicz: It's Markusiewicz. Markusiewicz.
Will: We're super excited to have Jacek on to talk about Barbarians, his upcoming Verse Solos release, but also to talk about all of your work, because we've been collecting and talking about you for two years, since your earliest fx(hash) stuff.
Barbarians — Jacek Markusiewicz
Trinity: I was talking to Will on Thursday, and you're definitely in my top three, top five, somewhere in there. This is really exciting. Not to spoil it, but the only generative art piece I've printed is Hollow. The next thing I'm thinking about getting printed would be Unbuilt and/or Barbarians, depending. I feel like we have a lot of alignment in terms of taste and interest, so I am so excited to have you on.
Jacek Markusiewicz: It's an honor. An absolute honor.
Will: So we're going to get into all of that. But first, Jacek, the question we always ask our guests so our audience can get to know them: tell us a bit about your background in art and coding.
Jacek Markusiewicz: I'm an architect. I studied architecture in Warsaw — I started about 20 years ago, graduated from the Warsaw University of Technology, and then did a master's in Barcelona, which helped me merge my architectural background with coding. That's where I was introduced to generative design, sometimes called parametric architecture — though that term carries strong aesthetic connotations, so I prefer "generative design": using programming and scripting to make design decisions in architectural processes, whether formal, functional, or optimization-related.
That's when I started calling myself a creative coder. I worked at an architectural studio in Barcelona applying code to design — generating facades, testing architectural massing, doing wider urban-scale analysis. I also spent five years teaching programming to architecture students back at my old university in Warsaw, alongside running design studios. At the same time, I pursued a non-academic career, collaborating with architectural offices and furniture designers as a creative coder.
I also started working in the art world, initially as an external consultant and programmer for interactive installations and exhibitions for Polish artists. Slowly I began designing interactive installations myself. When I moved to San Sebastián about five years ago, I worked on public interactive installations here. That's how I gradually shifted from architecture, through creative coding, into more of an artistic practice.
Hollow — Jacek Markusiewicz
Trinity: So what about generative art specifically? How did you get into code-based art? It sounds like it was mostly practical application in your previous lives.
Jacek Markusiewicz: For most of that time, I didn't know generative art existed in the Web3/NFT sense — until about three years ago, when a friend and former teacher of mine, Luis Fraguada, who's also a fellow artist in the space, asked me what I thought about art on the blockchain and NFTs. I had no idea what he was talking about. He explained this world to me and introduced me to Hic Et Nunc — today called Teia — and to Tezos. He gave me half a tez so I could mint some of my work. I did, got involved with the community, and fell in love with it straight away. That's how it started.
Trinity: So all of this started from you borrowing the equivalent of like two dollars from somebody.
Jacek Markusiewicz: A bit more than that — tez was around six dollars then. But I didn't borrow it, I paid him back with my art. I transferred my first mints to Luis.
Will: I imagine your earliest work on HEN was curated editions, since Hic Et Nunc didn't have long-form generative art set up on that contract. When fx(hash) came out, were you already aware of long-form generative art from somewhere like Art Blocks?
Jacek Markusiewicz: It started with the emergence of fx(hash).
Hollow — Jacek Markusiewicz
Will: I'm curious — thinking about the themes in a lot of your work, did you avoid Ethereum for a while for environmental reasons? A lot of your work has environmental or conservation themes, and I know some artists stayed strictly on Tezos until Ethereum went proof-of-stake and its carbon footprint dropped.
Jacek Markusiewicz: I was aware of the ecological implications of minting on Ethereum, but that's not why I stayed on Tezos. It was comfort — I started there, found a positive community, and it was hard to leave. I liked it. I had no negative associations with any part of the NFT world because I had no prior associations at all; I was brand new to the space. My first Ethereum mint was with Bright Moments a year ago. Before that, I only minted on Tezos.
Trinity: How has it been jumping over? Do you think you'll come back to Tezos more in the future?
Jacek Markusiewicz: I'm chain agnostic. I don't care that much about the technology or the blockchain — it'll sound cliché, but I care about the art I create and publish. Hopefully one day it won't matter much which blockchain a piece is minted on.
Trinity: What we've been seeing recently is the consolidation of the Tezos generative art scene and the Ethereum generative art scene into just one broader generative art scene, even external to the NFT side. You see that with communities coalescing around Verse and TENDER, which is cool to see. But your first forays into NFTs were on HEN — I'm looking at them right now, it's a very fun series.
Jacek Markusiewicz: It's based on Conway's Game of Life — the multiplication or death in cellular automata.
Hollow — Jacek Markusiewicz
Will: Popular theme.
Trinity: It is a popular theme. But you didn't release that as long-form on fx(hash).
Jacek Markusiewicz: It was generated as if it were long-form — I generated a bunch of outputs and then curated them. I think I always did eight editions of each.
Trinity: So how did you discover fx(hash) and get into official long-form work? Ephemeral is your first really significant drop there, and it's so unlike anything you'd done before.
Jacek Markusiewicz: I know. There was a certain coincidence — fx(hash) appeared right around the discontinuation of Hic Et Nunc. There was a crisis, Hic Et Nunc closed, and it took time for the Teia community to emerge. I felt orphaned, and I went through a bit of grieving that I alleviated by trying out this new long-form platform. It felt natural, because the way I'd worked before in architecture was very similar to long-form generative art — creating a program that generates multiple results, then browsing through them and choosing the best parameters. The idea of that program running online and being validated against blockchain technology felt like a very natural space for this type of generative art. I definitely wanted to try it, and my first attempt was Ephemeral.
Will: Given your background making generative things for the real world — algorithms that produce or help produce physical objects — and given that for the last two years you've been making a lot of generative art, have you thought about the future of generative design? Recently Tonic released a generative chair with the artist Luke Shannon, and we've seen generative clothing — there's actually a generative scarf in the fx(hash) queue right now. How do you think about generativeness applying to the real world moving forward? Do you think it'll become a bigger part of day-to-day life, and the things people own?
Hollow — Jacek Markusiewicz
Jacek Markusiewicz: Predicting is hard, especially about the future. I grew up alongside the evolution of the internet and the popularization of personal computers. To me, digital presence was always something that might be part of my real presence, but it never fully overlapped with my personality. I have a feeling that today, online presence is gaining a lot of importance — the way I treat mine, I always publish things I honestly want people to see me through. But for generations younger than me, this online presence has become so important that it's become real — as real as physical presence.
In that context, what we define as digital property, owning something digital, gains more and more importance. That's where I see the potential of generative art — owning a piece of it is a very interesting way to express something about oneself. There's a postmodern philosopher, Jean Baudrillard—
Will: Simulacra and simulacrum, right?
Jacek Markusiewicz: Exactly. He said something about consumerism — that the way we consume things is about more than consumption itself. We consume things to project a certain idea of ourselves into the external world; by consuming, we build an image of ourselves. I think in the context of online presence and social media, owning or consuming digital content like art is a very logical way of expressing ourselves. That's where I see the biggest potential. As for bridging it to the physical world — I still like printing my digitally owned works and having them in physical space, but I wonder which direction this tendency will shift.
Trinity: There's something interesting in what you said earlier — with generative design, you're optimizing for function, finding the best solution. Whereas in generative art, you're exploring the full range of possibility — what's unique, what's charismatic, what someone can project onto. Building on Will's question: how do you see those intangibles — the whimsy, the art side — feeding back into design?
Jacek Markusiewicz: So you're asking whether my artistic practice will contribute to my architectural work?
Hollow — Jacek Markusiewicz
Trinity: Or, if we're moving toward a place where we're not only projecting parts of ourselves into digital space, but also thinking beyond cost — because cost always pushes us toward consolidation and consistency — do you think there's space for more of that whimsical, artistic side to be projected into physical spaces or objects?
Jacek Markusiewicz: Yes. Part of my background was collaborating with a Dutch furniture designer, Joris Laarman. What I was optimizing for there was definitely not cost or efficiency — his fascination was with the complexity of form, an almost Baroque abundance of forms. It was beyond practical, definitely in the artistic rather than utilitarian sense you're describing.
Trinity: You put that way better than I could. It's almost like you've thought about this extensively in your life.
Jacek Markusiewicz: I'm not sure I've really thought about whether there's a reciprocal benefit between my former design practice and my artistic practice. For the last few years, I haven't been professionally involved in anything other than my art. So I'm not thinking about getting as much as I can from the artistic world and then applying it back to where I come from. I think and hope that this is going to be my practice, full stop, and what I do.
Trinity: Maybe this is a great segue into your other early works on fx(hash), specifically Unbuilt and Reborn. They leverage a lot of that parametric space you used in architecture, but bring it into an art form. I'd love to hear what inspired those pieces and what made you feel confident putting them out as long-form work on the blockchain. I love those so much, by the way. I think they're fantastic.
Unbuilt — Jacek Markusiewicz
Jacek Markusiewicz: Thank you. I had a lot of fun working on those. It wasn't really a conscious decision for these to be my first strongly architecturally-inspired long-form projects, but I think the fact that they are is very consistent with my background in architecture, and with my approach to making sense of things around me. In this case, that meant architectural objects of different scales — Gothic churches and ideal Renaissance cities.
The way I always try to understand anything is by building mental models of how elements work together within a system. Consistent with my artistic sensitivity, which has always been representational and figurative, I wanted to bring back archetypal architectural elements and break them down into algorithmic logic. I was always fascinated by the algorithmic approach to understanding historical architecture in works like Bill Mitchell's book The Logic of Architecture. So I started with Gothic architecture, took what I knew about it, translated it into algorithmic form, and gave it an aesthetic manifestation. That's how Unbuilt started, and Reborn was, to me, a logical continuation of that exploration.
Trinity: Looking at Unbuilt, I can see the aesthetics you're describing — what fills the spaces between the columns, the diamonds and other shapes filling in that blank space. It's quite nice. I think a top-down reference point doesn't necessarily capture the internal beauty of a cathedral — the different types of vaulted ceilings. Is it a barrel vault? A double barrel vault?
Unbuilt — Jacek Markusiewicz
Jacek Markusiewicz: We'd have to expand those into 3D to really see what those lines are — whether they overlap with the intersection between the pointed barrels, which would make them ribs, or whether they connect the ribs between them, which would make them diernes, I think it's called in English. But I'll be honest — they might be geometrically consistent, but historically, the types of vaults in this piece are quite frivolous.
Trinity: And with Reborn — what's the level of artistic interpretation for these Italian, or European, cities? Even though it's thematically similar and roughly contemporaneous, you're taking the perspective of a whole city rather than one important building within it.
Jacek Markusiewicz: I had the need to move from architectural scale to urban scale, and I paired it with moving from the Middle Ages to the Renaissance. My biggest fascination with ideal Renaissance cities is how spectacularly they failed historically. They were based on ideal mathematical relations and a concept of the ideal citizen and how they would inhabit those ideal cities — and virtually none of them exist today in the real world. Palmanova, in northern Italy, was not a successful implementation. Some elements remain, like Zamość in eastern Poland, but that worked mainly because it was never implemented in a strict way.
I think the moral superiority of Renaissance thinkers, who looked down on the Middle Ages and called them the Dark Ages, proved not as ideal as they expected. That was a fascinating element for me.
Will: I'd like to jump to Hollow, because there's a natural extension here. You started with fmorld, this small exploration of almost a rock or a gem. Then we get cathedral into city, and you've even done space-themed work — planets. The scope of your work kept growing, and a great intermediary point was Hollow, a project that made our top 10 list — not that that matters, but we both loved it the year it came out, and Trinity has a print of it.
Hollow — Jacek Markusiewicz
The story of this has been well told in your writing and in your recent appearance on Kaloh's show — shout-out to Kaloh, our brother in podcasting and art content. But could you give us the background again, briefly: how did you get interested in mountains, and in making this kind of tribute project? And I'm also personally interested in how it felt to watch this one take off. You'd always been an artist people liked and talked about on fx(hash), but this was the project that broke through. The primary went crazy, the secondary went crazy, people were going nuts — they wanted the "only lights," they wanted the birds. What was that moment like, watching the success of that project over the following week or so?
Jacek Markusiewicz: You're asking where my fascination with natural formations, with mountains, comes from. If there's anything I'm especially interested in that traces back to my architectural background, it's how we as human beings inhabit our space and territory, and how we treat it. More than architectural scale, I was always driven by the social aspects of urban design and territorial planning — how we relate to our environment, both natural and built.
The story behind my fascination is the project of Eduardo Chillida, a Basque sculptor famous for his geometrical explorations and work with materiality. He had a vision — and not just a vision, a serious proposal actually considered by the authorities of the Canary Islands — to excavate an enormous void inside the mountain of Tindaya in Fuerteventura, a sacred mountain of the island's indigenous peoples. It's a natural formation that's been there for something like 20 million years, and this famous sculptor comes along and says he's going to use that formation as matter for his artistic vision.
It was seriously considered by the authorities but widely criticized from very different angles. Ecologically, because of the impact of such an intervention on natural terrain. Socially and economically, because it was clear the site would need to become a massive touristic attraction just to sustain itself — which would undermine the artistic vision itself. How could you reflect on the tininess of humankind inside such a space if it's packed with tourists taking selfies and buying souvenirs? And artistically: what justifies imposing your vision on something many consider a natural formation comparable to a work of art in its own right?
I found the story, and the fact that it never came into existence, absolutely fascinating. I agree with the critique, but the beauty of the vision is undeniable. So I thought about giving it another life — not by excavating a real, culturally sacred mountain, but by sculpting a digital matter that would be randomly generated, bearing no reminiscence of the real world. How would that idea, that logic of Chillida's, be seen and received in today's world using contemporary technology?
Trinity: You convey that very well, and you also convey the critique through the use of tourists as one of the predominant features in the space. In my Hollow, when it first renders, one of the tourists is holding up a camera, taking a selfie — which feels very apropos given what you just said.
Hollow — Jacek Markusiewicz
Jacek Markusiewicz: That was the idea behind the visitors. But there's another side to that critique. I understand and agree with the criticism of that vision, but I also feel it's much easier to criticize an idea like that when it's purely artistic. Yet it's something we do all the time — at least in the Basque Country, where I live. Removing half a mountain to build a highway may be criticized, but not nearly as widely or as ferociously as an aesthetic, artistic vision. That says a lot about how we relate to the environment we live in.
Trinity: Is there meaning behind the birds, and behind the "only light" version?
Jacek Markusiewicz: The birds were an addition I felt would give the piece a stronger sense of scale. I didn't want them in every output — not to force a certain uniqueness onto any piece, but because I felt that making this feature special would emphasize the vastness and void of the composition even more. The completely empty spaces, meanwhile, are what I imagine would be closest to how Chillida would have envisioned his own work.
Will: What about your own personal reaction? What did it mean for you?
Jacek Markusiewicz: I have to admit I wasn't aware of what was happening. This might sound naive, but I didn't grasp how it was going to play out. In fact, when I published Hollow, I hadn't even reserved a piece for myself, nor minted the first edition for myself before opening the algorithm for public sale. I actually bought one edition from secondary the next day — something like 60 or 70 tez at the time. I had no idea the next day was going to be so overwhelming. It really was overwhelming for me — I wasn't expecting it at all.
Hollow — Jacek Markusiewicz
Trinity: No offense, but I think Hollow might have a place in history as one of the most mispriced projects of all time. Looking back at the stats, 32 tez was the top tier of the Dutch auction. It minted out in two or three blocks, and nobody successfully minted for less than about 6 tez worth of gas — some people paid up into the 40s.
Jacek Markusiewicz: That's probably on me, honestly — maybe justified by my lack of experience, and by how I approach pricing. I was never very familiar or comfortable with the speculation of supply and demand. I just counted the hours I spent working on the piece and multiplied that by what I think an hour of my work is worth. That's how I set the price — I wanted it to finance the work I'd put into developing Hollow. The speculative element completely overwhelmed me. It wasn't part of my calculation at all.
Trinity: You're being very pragmatic about it. I appreciate the practicality behind the mathematics.
Will: Who among us is good at calculating their own hourly rate of worth? Not an easy practice.
Jacek Markusiewicz: Of course.
Will: Thematically, some of the themes you were speaking to with Hollow really carry over into your upcoming drop, Barbarians, which will be for sale on March 6th but has already been exhibited in London. You were just there last week, and there are some amazing images of the prints — it looks fantastic, and even more so at scale. Can you talk about the tie-in with Hollow? We also see thematic similarities to Cantera, your project with Bright Moments — the interplay of humans and ecology, the spaces we inhabit, the aforementioned paving over a mountain to create a road. What's the backstory on this piece, what were you going for, and how did it end up on Verse?
Barbarians — Jacek Markusiewicz
Jacek Markusiewicz: The project started as a mental image, like most of my projects do. Within that image was this vision of archetypical architectural elements — my architectural background is always there, influencing my thinking. Massive columns, walls, arches, vaults. But in this vision, they wouldn't bear the weight of a building. They wouldn't be made of concrete or brick — they'd be made of stone and soil and dirt, shouldering the weight of a natural landscape.
As I developed the image, I imagined inhabitants resting on these columns and arches, partly just to give the scene a sense of scale. But then I started thinking about how those inhabitants would actually live — with their roads and fields and houses. And I had a thought that I think was the real moment the project started: I imagined them dwelling on the ruins of a bygone, advanced civilization, almost like parasites — like barbarians. And when I thought that, it scared me. What had these imaginary inhabitants in my head done to deserve such a derogatory term, such treatment from me? Because as far as I could tell, what they seemed to be doing was trying to make a living in a fairly respectful relation to their environment — both the natural environment and the one created by these megastructures. Aren't they really the barbarians, or is it whoever introduced this massive intervention into the terrain who's more barbaric?
It went further, because I realized that in both versions of the story, I'd fallen into the same dichotomy — taking one side and casting the other as "barbarians," whether I was looking from the perspective of the humble settlers or of the fallen great civilization. I never considered the position I occupied to be the barbaric one — it was always the other side. That struck me as a good illustration of the preset ways we divide the world into us and them, right and wrong, matter and form, human and natural. These false dichotomies are what I hope the piece explores. Looking at the pieces we've published with Verse and the ones we printed, nothing explicitly says we're looking at two opposing forces — good and evil, settlers versus an invaded advanced civilization. It could just as easily be the same civilization, with one technology as the natural evolution of the same people's lifestyle.
Barbarians — Jacek Markusiewicz
That's where I landed on Barbarians as the title — it's a little ambiguous. It can suggest barbaric tribes dwelling on the ruins of Rome, but it can also suggest the strength and ferocity with which someone intervened in a natural landscape. It's a bit of a trap: I want people to reflect on how we split the world into false dichotomies, but the title itself nudges them toward dichotomous thinking anyway. That's what the piece is about.
Honestly, it was probably the most difficult work I've made to date.
Trinity: In what sense?
Jacek Markusiewicz: Work on it started about a year ago, around two important events in my life: I defended my PhD, and I published Cantera, my first solo exhibition with Bright Moments, in Berlin. That caused a certain amount of pressure — well, it didn't cause it so much as I put it on myself — and I felt genuinely tired afterward. I made the mistake of thinking that because these two things I love doing, learning and creating, had coincided with anxiety and pressure, the logical move was to take time off.
I tried, and it turned out I'm not very good at that. I didn't handle those few months well, mainly because I hadn't accounted for the fact that creating art is often what alleviates my anxiety in the first place. So I spent months forcing myself not to do the thing I love, which only built more pressure, until I decided I needed to start creating again. By then my head had become a bottleneck of ideas I wanted to try, which was overwhelming in its own way. I spent the following months making trials and discarding more work than I'd ever discarded before, while slowly building an image of what I wanted to do — pouring those difficult experiences into formal explorations that became complex and eclectic. I think you can see the amount of work that went into it. But it was a hard road getting there.
Once I made peace with those months and started accepting the results, I knew this line of exploration would lead to something I'd want to show people. So I contacted Verse. They'd actually reached out to me a few times before, but there was always something in the way — a project in progress, a PhD to deliver, a PhD to defend. This time, once Barbarians was close to ready, I felt comfortable reaching out to see if they'd still be interested in publishing my work. They loved it. After a few weeks of talks, Lonli wrote to ask if I'd be comfortable with it being a solo show, since they felt the work deserved that special treatment. That was amazing news — of course I said yes. I got back from London two days ago, and it was a fantastic experience. The effort the team put into the exhibition was really something. It was at Cromwell Place in central London, right next to the Natural History Museum and all the major South Kensington institutions — and there I was in my flannel shirt, presenting my work. It was emotional.
Barbarians — Jacek Markusiewicz
Trinity: Well deserved. Neither of us made it to London, or we'd have done this interview there in person, but from the videos and photos, Barbarians clearly presents beautifully as large prints — especially in that clean space, showing off all the little details, the agricultural elements, the lines and shadows running through the trees and bushes. It feels so alive; I'd never guess it was made by code. I imagine it translated just as well at that huge scale.
Jacek Markusiewicz: I was actually a little afraid of how the piece would behave at that scale. All the outputs we're publishing with Verse are actual outputs of the algorithm — we haven't open-sourced it yet. It's long-form, fully made of code, not a token that renders instantly. There's so much detail and geometry that I had to think carefully about optimization. I figured it would work well at maybe 4K, or 3,000 by 3,000 pixels, but the biggest print needed to be generated at 20,000 by 10,000 pixels. I was nervous about how that would hold up.
But seeing it live, I thought it was a great choice, because it felt like zooming in on the piece. There's a layer to how you perceive the output — at first sight you see the landscape and the geometric intervention, and then as you zoom in, you see the little houses, churches, fields. Seeing it in the gallery felt exactly like that: from a distance, a strong composition; up close, like zooming in on my computer, translated into a real-world gallery experience. It felt like the right decision.
Will: You mentioned it's long-form — is it long-form random output, or long-form but curated? There's a distinction now, and Verse does both artist-curated and collector-curated drops.
Jacek Markusiewicz: This piece is going to be collector curated. We want to give collectors the ability to interact with the piece and see multiple outputs, and I'm curious what people will gravitate toward. I wanted it collector curated because I wanted to open up the possibilities of the algorithm as much as possible. If you constrain randomness to guarantee consistency between pieces, you inevitably cut off the more peculiar, characteristic outputs I wanted to preserve. I wanted the range to go from something that reads almost like a photograph of the landscape with its intervention and settlers, all the way to very geometric compositions where elements align with the framing of the image. To leave that range open, I wanted the parameters as unconstrained as possible.
It'll be really interesting feedback for me to see what people look for — whether they gravitate toward strong compositions, or zoom in on what's happening in the landscape between the vaults and columns, searching for the little church that sometimes appears next to a road, surrounded by little houses.
Barbarians — Jacek Markusiewicz
Will: I look forward to playing with the generator and saving some seeds — that's always a fun part of this.
Trinity: I'm already stressed thinking about it. There's always this tension as a collector — I love collector-curated releases, being able to spin through seeds and find the one you want, but that also means more pressure to find the perfect one, you know?
Jacek Markusiewicz: One thing I really wanted to ensure was to limit the abundance of outputs a collector is faced with. I know how stressful it is — when I'm working on a piece, I'm testing like crazy, generating thousands of outputs almost every day, going through them to check that everything's working correctly in the algorithm. I know how overwhelming it is to choose one output out of hundreds. So the idea is to limit the number of outputs a user can browse per day to 25. I want people to be able to dedicate a little bit of time to each output they're reviewing. If there are only 25, you can look thoroughly through all of them, save the ones you really love, and form an opinion after a few days of interacting with the piece about which compositions connect with you and which you wouldn't want as your final minted piece.
So the idea is to limit both the number of days people can interact with the piece to save seeds, and the maximum number of seeds to browse through per day. There's a certain strength to that scarcity — paradoxically, it might give people more opportunity to relate to the piece, rather than just scrolling through hundreds of outputs.
Will: I think that's very thoughtful, actually.
Jacek Markusiewicz: I hope it alleviates your stress, Trinity.
Barbarians — Jacek Markusiewicz
Trinity: Oh, definitely. But you should have been upfront about that — that's a really important nuance to the minting.
Jacek Markusiewicz: We'll announce that soon, for sure.
Will: Let me ask one market-related question before we start wrapping up. As a full-time artist, I imagine you have to track who all the players are — the platforms, which blockchains collectors are gravitating toward. I'm sure you've noticed the push into Solana, and more recently into Bitcoin with Ordinals. Sometimes there's a multiplier in what you can charge just by being on a different chain — with Bitcoin in particular, it's kind of crazy what a standard mint goes for these days. Do you have an opinion on all that? Now that this is your primary source of income, do you have to take it into account? Have you considered other chains, or are you more focused on partners like Verse and what they have to say?
Jacek Markusiewicz: I'm aware of all those shifts in the space. The first thing I think of is how surprisingly deep and strong the frontiers are between certain communities — projects published on other blockchains often don't reach me through my social media circles at all. I always say I'm chain agnostic, I guess, but I'm surprised how important it is to so many people where a piece is minted.
I know it's a cliché, but I'm focused on art. Creating it already comes with so much weight and responsibility — you have to confront yourself with your work, then get it out there and show part of yourself to people, which is incredibly stressful. Out of everything an artist can and should be, the part I struggle with most is exactly those market-related decisions. That's why I really appreciate working with Verse — it feels like someone is taking care of certain aspects of what I'm doing. Creative work makes you really alone and vulnerable, and you always wish somebody would step in and take care of something. That's one of the big reasons I appreciate that partnership.
Have I thought about minting on other blockchains? Not yet. All of this happened while I was working on this project, and when I'm working on something, there's no space in my brain for almost anything else — no space to think about other potential projects or plans for the future. I dedicate myself completely to what I'm doing until I'm too tired, or until I reach a moment so different from when I started that it's time to wrap it up — either throw it in the trash or get it out there. Hopefully the latter. Right now I'm in this pre-release moment, so I haven't thought about other ventures yet.
Barbarians — Jacek Markusiewicz
Trinity: Everything you're describing with Barbarians feels like the culmination of such a long period of time, coming out of such a difficult stretch. We're really looking forward to seeing what happens next month. For listeners, we're recording this in the middle of February, so things might change — but whatever chain you release on in the future, and whoever you partner with, we'll be looking forward to it.
Will: We'll be watching.
Jacek Markusiewicz: Yes.
Trinity: We've been recording for a while now, so let's do some rapid-fire questions. First one — and I think I know the answer — do you have any alt accounts?
Jacek Markusiewicz: Nope. I have a secondary wallet somewhere on Tezos, but it's not related to my creative work.
Will: What do you like to listen to while you code? Any recommendations for us, music-wise?
Barbarians — Jacek Markusiewicz
Jacek Markusiewicz: While coding, absolutely nothing. As I said, when I'm working on a project, there's so little space in my head for anything else, and when I'm actually coding, my focus has to be at 100%. I can't do it any other way.
But generally, music I like — once Lonli, Ivan from Verse, and I were talking about it, and he guessed what music I like. He said, "You must like Pink Floyd." And yeah, that's my favorite group of all time. Maybe he saw some relation between that and what I do as an artist. I like progressive rock from the '70s — Pink Floyd, Yes, King Crimson. What I appreciate in music is, on one hand, being able to value a composition in its totality, its musical lines, but also a certain virtuosity, attention to detail, and complexity of composition. That's the type of music I usually listen to.
Trinity: There's also the emotional intensity, the performance side of it — it's not just playing notes or being talented, it's the emotive response: what are you putting into it, how are you feeling that day, how does that get expressed.
Jacek Markusiewicz: And the work behind the music.
Trinity: Exactly. Moving on — similar question, but with art. What artists do you like to collect? Who are some of your favorites?
Jacek Markusiewicz: Metaphorically, I grew up on Tezos, so there are quite a few artists especially important to me — I always say it, it's never a mystery. Andreas Rau — I think he's my favorite generative artist. One of the first pieces I ever minted was Loom; I have it printed and signed by him, hanging on my wall.
Barbarians — Jacek Markusiewicz
Should they only be generative artists?
Will: It's your interview, your answers.
Jacek Markusiewicz: Okay. I already talked about this in my interview with ItsGalo, but since I'm so interested in land art, I have to mention at least one land artist: Maya Lin. She's an architect who moved toward art, very inspired by intervening in territory in an artistic way, and by reproducing landscape elements within a controlled gallery environment.
There's an artist from Ghana I absolutely adore — El Anatsui. He uses bottle caps from alcohol bottles to build structures reminiscent of ocean waves, but also monumental, textile-like forms, almost like sails. There's a story behind the materials: historically, alcohol was used as currency in exchanges between slave traders, and his critique of postcolonialism is reflected in that choice of material.
Trinity: I saw his work at the Brooklyn Museum a couple of years ago. I didn't remember the artist's name, but the second you mentioned it, it all came back — so memorable.
Jacek Markusiewicz: The first time I saw his work live was at the Guggenheim Bilbao, near where I live. A few days ago I went to Tate Modern to see his new installation in the Turbine Hall — three enormous pieces, very impressive.
Barbarians — Jacek Markusiewicz
Coming back to generative art — or maybe not generative per se, but web3-related art — there's a poet, Ana María Caballero, I wanted to mention. We also have a secret society on Twitter for architects who code. I think it'd be fun to do an interview with the group together.
Will: There are a lot of them.
Jacek Markusiewicz: Way too many architects in generative art. Sticking together, there's people like Erik Swahn, who I'm a big fan of; Olga Fradina, who had a curated drop on Art Blocks a few months ago — I've lost track of time; Luis Fraguada; many others. I don't want to turn this into a super long list.
Will: That doubles as an answer to the other question we ask — who do you want us to interview? We could pick any of those names and you'd probably love to hear that episode. Plenty for us to work with.
Jacek Markusiewicz: That would be interesting — an architects' interview.
Will: We're actually talking to some of them already — Erik, we're lining up an interview with you this year. We've been talking to Alejandro Campos on and off for a while too.
Barbarians — Jacek Markusiewicz
Trinity: It's becoming a bit of a meme that the best generative artists are Dutch and/or architects.
Will: I feel like this is a good place to stop. It's been awesome, Jacek, chatting with you and learning more about you and about Barbarians. Hope you had a good time on the show.
Jacek Markusiewicz: I did. A lot.
Will: Awesome. Let's wrap it up, then — everyone go check out Barbarians on Verse. It'll be for sale in March; the generator should be up sometime before then for everyone to start collecting their seeds. That's it for this one — thanks for listening, hope you enjoyed it. We'll be back soon with another episode. Big thanks to Jacek. Bye-bye.
Barbarians — Jacek Markusiewicz
Jacek Markusiewicz: Bye. Always — we're waiting to be signed.
Speaker A: All right, hello and welcome everyone to another episode of Waiting to Be Signed, a special interview episode, a very, very special interview episode. We got Shandy here this morning, and we are joined by Jacek Markuszewicz. Pretty close.
Speaker B: Pretty close, I think.
Speaker A: We've had a string of tough names recently, but I feel like it makes us better people.
Speaker B: It's Markuszewicz. Markuszewicz.
Speaker A: We're super excited to have Jacek on to talk about Barbarians, his upcoming Verse solos release, but also we're going to be talking about all of your work because we've been collecting and talking about you for 2 years since your earliest fxhash stuff. It's exciting. I know Trinity in particular is excited.
Speaker C: I was talking to Will on Thursday and, you know, you're definitely in my top 3, top 5, somewhere in there. So this is really exciting. Not to spoil it, but the only generative art thing that I've printed is a Holo. The next thing that I'm thinking about getting printed would be Unbuilt and/or Barbarians, depending. So like, I don't know, I feel like we have a lot of alignment in terms of taste and interest. I am so excited to have you on.
Speaker B: It's an honor. It's an absolute honor.
Speaker C: Thank you.
Speaker A: So we're gonna get into all of that. Before we do, Jacek, you know, the first question we always ask our guests so that they can get introduced to our audience is to tell us a bit about your background in art and coding.
Speaker B: So, um, Hi, I'm an architect. I studied architecture in Warsaw. That was already quite some time ago. I started studying like 20 years ago, more or less. I graduated from the Warsaw University of Technology, and then I moved on in my education. I did a master's in Barcelona after that, which helped me merge a little bit of my architectural background with my coding background. I was introduced to something that's called generative design or Sometimes called parametric architecture, although the latter concept has some strong aesthetic connotations that makes me prefer talking about it as generative design, which is basically using programming and scripting to make design decisions in architectural processes, either formal decisions or functional decisions, optimizations, et cetera. After that, it's when I basically started considering myself and calling myself a creative coder. I started working at the architectural studio in Barcelona where my role was to apply coding to their design, to generate facades, to test certain architectural massings, more, let's say, wider, bigger scale analysis in urban design as well. So I also had a, I was going to say an episode, but it was 5 years teaching at the university, at my old university in Warsaw. I was teaching programming to students of architecture, also giving design studios. And at the same time, I also pursued my non-academic professional career. I collaborated with other architectural offices and furniture designers, also as a creative coder. I started also working with, within the world of art, at the beginning as an external consultant and programmer for different artistic installations, interactive installations for expositions for Polish artists. And slowly I also started designing mainly interactive installations myself. When I moved to San Sebastian around 5 years ago, I did participate in designing public interactive installations in public space here. And this is how I slowly shifted from architecture through creative coder to more of artistic practice.
Speaker C: So what about generative art then? Like, how did you get into like code-based art? It seems like it's been mostly for practical application in your previous lives.
Speaker B: So for most of that time, I did not, I didn't know about the existence of generative art as in the sense of Web3 and NFTs. Until around three years ago, when a friend of mine and former teacher of mine, Luis Fraguada, is also a fellow artist in the space. I think you know each other with Luis. He asked me what I thought about art in the blockchain and NFTs, etc. And I, I had no idea. I was like, "What are you talking about?" And he explained me the existence of the of this world. He introduced me to. Back then it was Hic Et Nunc, today it's called Theia, and to the world of Tezos. He gave me half Tez to be able to start minting some of my works. And I did that and I got involved with the community, which, in which I fell in love straight away. And this is how, this is how it started.
Speaker C: So all of this started from you borrowing the equivalent of like $2 from somebody.
Speaker B: I think it was a little bit more than that. It was like, Tez was like a $6 But yeah, I didn't borrow. I paid with my art. I transferred my first mints to Luis.
Speaker A: I imagine your earliest work on HEN, on Hic Et Nunc, was probably curated editions, things like that, right? Because they didn't have like long-form generative art set up on that contract. So when fxhash came out, did you kind of see that? Like, were you kind of aware of the idea of doing a long-form release from Art Blocks? Like, once you got into NFTs, were you looking at some other stuff?
Speaker B: It started with the emergence of fxhash.
Speaker A: I'm just curious because, you know, You started on Tez as a lot of people did, and just kind of thematically thinking about a lot of your work, did you avoid ETH for a while because of environmental reasons? Like, I feel like a lot of your work has environmental themes or conservation themes, and I know that some artists were really like adamant, only Tezos until Ethereum was proof of stake and the carbon footprint of that chain was smaller.
Speaker B: I was aware of the ecological implications of minting on ETH, but that was not the reason I stalled and stayed on Tez. I think it was just my comfort I started there. I felt there was a positive community and it was really, really hard to abandon it. I really liked it there. I did not have negative connotations related to any NFT world because I did not have any, had not had any connotations at all. I was very new to the space. My first ETH mint was with Bright Moments one year ago. Before that, I was only minting on Tezos.
Speaker C: How has it been jumping over? Do you think you'll come back more to Tezos again in the future, or is it?
Speaker B: I am, as they say, chain agnostic. I don't care that much about the technology, about the blockchain. It's gonna sound cliché, but I care about the art that I create and that I publish. Hopefully one day it's not gonna matter that much on which blockchain a piece is minted.
Speaker C: I think that what we've been seeing, especially more recently, is the consolidation of like the Tezos generative art scene and the Ethereum generative art scene. just becoming a broader generative art scene, even external to like the NFT side of it. You really see that with some communities like that are coalescing around Verse, coalescing around Tender and everything, which is really cool to see. But anyway, so your first forays into the NFT space was with HEN. I'm looking at them right now. It's a very fun series.
Speaker B: It's based on the Game of Life by Conway, either the multiplication or the death in Cellular Automata.
Speaker A: Popular theme.
Speaker C: It is a popular theme.
Speaker A: It is.
Speaker C: But you did not release that long form onto fx hash.
Speaker B: It was generated as if it was long form. I was generating a bunch of outputs and then I just curate them. And I think I've always 8 editions of each.
Speaker C: So then how did you discover fx hash and really get into like official long form? Like fEmerald is your first really significant drop there. And it's so unlike anything you've done.
Speaker B: I have to say. I know that. I know that. I think there was a certain coincidence. The moment that fx hash appeared in the scene coincided with the discontinuation of Hic Et Nunc. There was a crisis on Hic Et Nunc and Hic Et Nunc closed. It took some time for the Theia community to emerge. And it was a moment of, I felt orphaned by Hic Et Nunc and I passed for some grieving that I would alleviate with trying out this new long-form platform that appeared. It felt natural for me because the way I had been working mainly before in architecture was very similar to long form when I would create a computer program that would allow me to generate multiple results through which I would browse and choose the best parameters. In this one, the idea of this program being online and validated against the blockchain technology seemed like a very natural space for this type of generative art. So I I definitely wanted to try, and my first trial was, was Ephemeral. Yes.
Speaker A: You know, with your background making generative things for the real world, right, creating algorithms that will produce physical objects or participate in making them, and also, right, given now for the last 2 years you've been making a lot of generative art, have you thought a lot about the future of generative design? You know, like recently, I don't know if you saw, but with Tonic, they released this generative chair with the artist Luke Shannon, and we've seen things like generative clothing. There's actually in the queue on fxhash right now, there's like a generative scarf. that you're going to be able to go get. So how do you think about generativeness as it applies to the real world moving forward? Like, do you feel like this is going to become a bigger part of day-to-day life for people and the things that they own?
Speaker B: I'm not sure. Predicting is hard, especially when it comes to the future. I grew up along with the evolution of internet, of the popularization of personal computers, and then the popularization of internet. To me, the digital presence was always something that would be Maybe a part of my real presence, but it was always like, it wouldn't fully overlap with my personality. So I have a feeling that today what really is gaining a lot of importance is the online presence of someone. So for me, the way I treat my online presence is always I publish things that I honestly want people to see me through. However, I have a feeling that in the contemporary world and in generations that are that are younger than me. This online presence has become so important that it's actually, it became real. It's as real as the physical presence for me. And I think in this context, what we can define today as digital property, owning something that's digital, gains more and more importance. In this context, I see more potential of generative art and owning a piece of generative art, which is— Very interesting thing to express about oneself. I don't know if I'm going to go too deep into difficult concept, but there was a philosopher, a postmodern philosopher, Jean Baudrillard.
Speaker A: Simulacra simulacrum, right?
Speaker B: Exactly. He would say one thing about consumerism, the way we consume things, it's way more than consumption itself. We consume things in order to project certain idea about ourselves. into the external world. So we, by consuming, we're building certain image of ourselves. I think in the contemporary world and in the context of online presence and social media, owning or consuming digital content such as artistic content is a very logical way of expressing ourselves. And that's where I see the biggest potential. Bridging it towards the physical world, it's definitely interesting to me. I still like printing my digitally owned works of art and having it in a physical space. However, I wonder towards which direction this tendency will shift.
Speaker C: You know, I think that there's something that you were talking about earlier when it comes to when you're using generative design, it's like you're optimizing things from a functional sense and really understanding what is the best thing to do. Whereas what you're really looking to do in more of the generative art is explore the full range of possibility. And it seems to be more about what is unique, what is charismatic, what can somebody kind of take on and like project? Leading off of Will's question, how do you feel that that sort of quirkiness, not quirkiness is not really the best word here, but what are these intangibles that you could bring from art into design?
Speaker B: So the way my background contributed certain way of work to my art, you're asking whether my artistic practice will contribute to my, for instance, architectural work.
Speaker C: Or could, you know, if we're looking into moving into a place where not only are we looking to project parts of ourselves into the digital space, but, you know, obviously cost can always be a factor. You know, we're always moving towards things being consolidated and consistent from a cost savings perspective. But if we're looking to have more of the art, the whimsical side of things being projected into physical spaces or into physical objects, do you think that there's space there?
Speaker B: Yes. Well, my, in fact, part of my background when I was collaborating with a furniture designer, Joris Laarman. He's a Dutch furniture designer. What I was optimizing back then was not, definitely not the cost nor the efficiency of his design. His fascination was in the complexity of form and absolute abundance of almost like Baroque abundance of forms. It was beyond practical. And it was definitely in the sense that you are, that you're explaining more artistic rather than utilitarian.
Speaker C: You put that way better than I could. It's almost like you've thought about this extensively in your life.
Speaker B: I'm not sure. I'm not. Yeah, I have I haven't really, really thought about the fact that there might be like a reciprocal benefit between my former design practice and artistic practice. Well, in fact, for the last few months, for the last few years, I haven't been involved professionally in anything else than my art. So I'm not thinking about, okay, getting as much as I can from the artistic world and then applying it back into where I come from. I think and I hope that this is going to be my practice and what I do.
Speaker C: Well, I mean, maybe this is actually a really great segue into talking about some of your other early works on fx hash, specifically on Built and Reborn. Because it is leveraging a lot of that parametric space that you could, I guess, used in architecture, but you are bringing that into like the art form. So I would love to hear more about this story and like what inspired those particular pieces and, you know, what made you feel confident and comfortable to put those in a long-form form on the blockchain. I love those so much, by the way. I think they're fantastic.
Speaker B: Thank you.
Speaker C: Thank you.
Speaker B: I had a lot of fun working on those and I'm not sure it was like a conscious decision for these pieces to be my first very strongly architecturally inspired long-form projects. But I think it's the fact that they are is very consistent with my background in architecture. It's also very consistent with my approach to making sense of things that surround me, that I think of, that I know, in this case, architectural objects of different scales, in this case, Gothic churches and ideal Renaissance cities. The way I always understand not only architectural objects, but anything I'm trying to understand is I'm making certain mental models of how elements work together that build up a system that I'm studying. And somehow consistent with my sensitivity and artistic biases that were, I think they were always representational and figurative. So bringing back archetypical architectural elements, breaking them down into algorithmic logic. I was always fascinated by the concept of that algorithmic approach to understanding historical architecture in works, for instance, by Bill Mitchell. It was this famous book, The Logic of Architecture. I was always fascinated by that. And the idea was to start with Gothic architecture. And I took that, what I knew about that, translated it to algorithmic form and gave it some aesthetic way of manifestation. That was how Unbuilt started and Reborn was, um, to me, logical continuation of that exploration.
Speaker C: Looking at Unbuilt, I can see like the aesthetics that you're talking about. It's more in the, you know, what is filling in the spaces between the columns and kind of filling in that blank space. It's like diamonds, it's other shapes. It's quite nice. You know, I think that there's a lot that doesn't necessarily get captured in like that top-down reference point for what the other internal beauty that can be in a cathedral, you know, looking at different types of like vaulted ceilings? Is it a like barrel vault? Is it like a double barrel vault?
Speaker B: We would have to expand those into 3D. We would have to see what these lines really are. Are they— do they overlap with the intersection between the pointed barrels? And that would make them like ribs. And or would they be something that connects the ribs between them? And it would be like make them like diernes, I think it's called in English. But I'll be honest, it's— they might be geometrically Very consistent, but historically the ceilings, the types of vaults are quite frivolous in this piece.
Speaker C: And so then Reborn, like what's the level of artistic interpretation for these Italian or these European cities? Because even though it's like similar thematically, at least in terms of point of time, you know, a lot of these things would've coexisted, but you're taking it from the perspective of a whole city and not just one important building inside of it.
Speaker B: I had the need to move from architectural scale to urban scale, and I paired it with the need of moving from the Middle Ages to the Renaissance. My biggest fascination with ideal Renaissance cities is that it's how spectacularly they failed historically. They were based in all these ideal mathematical relation and concept of an ideal citizen and how they would inhabit those ideal cities. And virtually none of them exist today in the real world. Palma Nova, which was in North Italy, that was not a successful implementation or some elements that remain from that approach, such as Zamość in Eastern Poland, but that worked mainly because it was not implemented in a strict way. So I think certain moral superiority of the Renaissance thinkers that would look down on the preceding epochs of the Middle Ages, calling them the Dark Ages, proved not to be as ideal as they would expect to. And I think that was a fascinating element for me.
Speaker A: I would like to jump over to Hollow because I feel like there's a natural extension. You started with like fmorld, which was just this kind of little exploration of almost A rock or a gem in some way. And then we have these, right, cathedral into a city. And then you've even done like space-themed things, right? Planets. Like, so I feel like the scope of your work continued to grow over the course, but a really great intermediary point was Holo, a project that made our top 10 list. Not that that matters, but we both loved it so much the year that it came out. Trinity, as she mentioned, has a print of it. I know the story of this has been pretty well told in your writing and also in your recent appearance on Kaloh. So we gotta shout out Kaloh, our brother in podcasting and art content. But if you can kind of give us again, really briefly, just the background of like how you kind of got interested in mountains, got interested in making this kind of like tribute project. And also like, I'm really personally interested in hearing how did it feel watching this one? You know, you had always been an artist that people liked and talked about in FX Hash, but this was the project that broke through. The primary went crazy. The secondary went crazy. People were going nuts. They wanted only lights. They wanted birds. What was that moment like for you, right? Like watching the success of that project over the course of a week or so after it came out?
Speaker B: So you asked me what, where my fascinations with natural formations come from, with mountains, right? I think if there's anything that I am especially interested in that can be traced back to my architectural background is especially how we as human beings inhabit our space and our territory and how we treat it. So more than architectural scale, I was always more driven by the social aspects of urban design and territorial planning. And what always fascinated me is exactly that, how we relate to our environment, not only natural environment, but also the environment that are built by us. The story behind my fascination with the project of Eduardo Chillida, a Basque sculptor, Famous for his very geometrical explorations and work with materiality. That particular vision, and it was not only a vision, it was a serious proposal really considered by the authorities of the Canary Islands, was to excavate an enormous void inside of the mountain of Tindaya in Fuerteventura. It's a sacred mountain of autonomous peoples.
Speaker A: Okay.
Speaker B: From Fuerteventura. It's a natural formation that's been there for, I'm not gonna be precise, but like 20 million years. And there comes an important, famous sculptor and says that he's gonna use that formation as matter in which he would create his artistic and implement his artistic vision. It was seriously considered by the authorities, but it was Criticized widely from very different environments. So from an ecological point of view, because of the impact of such an intervention in natural terrain, from a social and economic point of view, because of the fact that everybody, it was clear for everybody that it would need to be converted into a massive touristic attraction in order to be able to sustain itself. And that would also affect the artistic interpretation of it because how can you really, as Chinedu said, Yeah. How could you reflect on the tininess of humankind inside of such a space if it would be packed by tourists taking selfies and buying souvenirs? Also from this artistic point of view, that what justifies your vision of intervening in something that by many is considered a natural formation comparable to work of art itself to impose your vision? I found the story and the fact that it never came into existence. Absolutely fascinating because I do agree with the critique. And but, but the beauty of the vision is, is absolutely undeniable. That's why I thought that giving it another life, a new shot at being somehow realized, but not by excavating a real culturally important sacred mountain, but By sculpting a digital matter that would be randomly generated so that it would not bear any reminiscence of, of the real world. How would that idea and that, and that logic by Edoardo Citta be seen and be, and be received in today's world using contemporary technologies?
Speaker C: And it seems like, you know, you really do convey that very well, but you also do an excellent job of conveying that critique through the use of tourists as one of the predominant features in this space. And I noticed that at least in my holo, when it first renders, one of the tourists is somebody who is holding up a camera, taking a selfie, which feels very apropos based off of what you were just saying.
Speaker B: That was the idea behind the visitors. However, I also, there is another side to that critique because I always think that I understand and I agree with the criticism about that vision, but I kind of also have a feeling that it's much easier to criticize an idea like that, a vision like that, when it's purely artistic. However, it's what we do all the time, at least in the Basque Country where I live in. Removing half of a mountain to create a highway, it may be criticized, but not as widely and not as ferociously as aesthetic, artistic vision, which also tells a lot about how we approach and how we relate to the environment that we live in.
Speaker C: Is there a meaning or a purpose behind the birds and then the only light version?
Speaker B: The birds was an addition that I felt it would give it a stronger sense of scale. I didn't want it to appear in all the elements, in all the outputs. Not that I decided to force a certain uniqueness to any pieces, but I felt that the fact that this feature would be special would even more strongly emphasize on the feeling of the vastness of the void of the composition. And then the completely empty spaces, it's something that I imagine would be the closest to how Cheadle would envision his, his work.
Speaker A: And now what about your own personal reaction? What did it mean for you?
Speaker B: I have to admit I was not aware of what was happening. It was gonna sound innocent, but I did not I was not aware of how it was going to play out, and I did not fully grasp what was happening at the moment. In fact, to such an extent that I didn't even— when I published Holo, I hadn't reserved one piece for myself, nor had I minted the first edition for myself before opening the algorithm for public sale. Even more, I think I bought one edition from secondary the next day, like 60-something or 70-something Tez at the time. I didn't, I was not aware what was gonna happen the next day was gonna be so overwhelming because it was, it was overwhelming for me. I was not expecting it at all.
Speaker C: This is no offense here, but I think Holo might also have a place in history as one of the most mispriced projects of all time. I'm going back and looking at the stats and 32 tez was the top tier of the Dutch auction. It minted out in 2 or 3 blocks and nobody successfully minted with less than like 6 tez worth of gas, with some people going up into the 40 range.
Speaker B: It's probably somehow on me, the fact that I maybe justified by my lack of experience and also the way I price, I put price on my work. I was never very familiar nor comfortable with speculation of supply and demand and things like that. I just counted the hours that I spent working on the piece, multiplied it by what I think an hour of my work is worth. And that's how I established the price that I, you know, that I wanted to finance my work that I had put in, in the development of Holo. The speculative element just completely, completely overwhelmed me. And it did not, it was not within my calculation at all.
Speaker C: You're being very pragmatic about it. And I think I appreciate the practicality. Behind the, uh, the mathematics.
Speaker A: Whom amongst us is good at calculating their own hourly rate of worth? It's not easy, not an easy practice.
Speaker B: Of course.
Speaker A: But, you know, thematically, kind of some of the themes that you were speaking to with Hollow, I mean, they really carry over into the first drop that's coming up, Barbarians, which we should say is coming for sale on March 6th, but it's already been exhibited right in London. You, I think you were just there last week in the space, and there's insane, amazing images of the prints. I mean, It looks fantastic. It looks even more fantastic at scale. Can you speak to a little bit about the tie-in here with Holo? And then I think also like we see some thematic similarities to your project Cantera, the one that you referenced earlier with Bright Moments, the interplay of just humans and ecology, the spaces that we inhabit, the things that we do, the aforementioned paving over the top of a mountain, right, to create a road. Can you just give us the backstory here on the piece? What you're going for with it and how did it end up on Verse?
Speaker B: The project started as a certain mental image, like most of my projects start like that. And within this mental image, there was this idea or vision of archetypical architectural elements. My architectural background, it's always, it's always there influencing, influencing my thinking. The architectural elements such as massive columns and walls and arches and vaults, But in this vision, they wouldn't bear the weight of a building. They wouldn't be made of concrete nor brick. They would be made of stone and soil and dirt and shouldering the weight of the landscape, natural landscape. In the mental image, I started going into the detail of how I wanted to envision it. I thought that maybe on this landscape, there would be inhabitants. Resting on these, on these columns and on these arches to begin with, to give it a certain sense of scale formally. But then I started thinking about those inhabitants and how they would live with their roads and their fields and their houses. And I had this thought at one point, and I think it was, it was the moment where the project really, really started. I thought of them as if they were dwelling on some ruins of a Bygone civilization, advanced civilization, like almost like parasites, like barbarians. And when I thought of it, I got scared. I was like, what, what happened? What did these imaginary inhabitants in my head do to deserve such a derogatory term and to such a treatment from myself? Because from where I'm standing and still thinking about the mental image, like What they seem to be doing is they are trying to make their living in a seemingly respectful relation to the environment, both to the natural environment and to the environment that they created by these, say, megastructures. Aren't they really the barbarians, or isn't the someone or something that introduced this massive intervention in the terrain more barbaric? It went further because I then I realized that in both of these scenarios of the sides of the story, I fell into a certain dichotomy. In both cases, I took a side and I thought about the other counterpart of the side. So either looking from the perspective of the humble settlers or from the perspective of the fallen great civilization, I would always consider barbarians the other, never the position from which I am. And I thought that It defines really well certain preset ideas and preset ways of understanding and dividing the world between us and them and what's right and what's wrong, or what's matter, what's form, what is human and what's natural. And these false dichotomies is what I hope this piece tries to explore. Because when you look at the pieces that we have already published with Verse and the ones that we printed, there is nothing in this scenario that says explicitly that we are talking about 2 opposing forces like good and evil, or there are one settlers that are barbarians that are invading some advanced civilization. These could be perfectly well the same civilization, but One technology being a natural evolution of certain lifestyle of the same people. And that's where I thought, okay, Barbarians is a good name for the piece because it's a little bit ambiguous. It can suggest that we are looking at some barbaric tribes dwelling on the ruins of Rome. It can also suggest certain strength and ferocity.
Speaker A: Yeah.
Speaker B: with which somebody intervened in natural landscape. It's a little bit of a trap because I do want people to reflect on the fact that, that we split the world in false dichotomy. But at the same time, through such description and the title itself, I kind of push them slightly towards dichotomical, dichotomical thinking. And this is what the piece is about. Okay, I'll be honest, it was probably the, the most difficult work to date for me.
Speaker C: In what sense?
Speaker B: So the work on it basically started around 1 year ago. I had 2 important events in my life. I defended my PhD and I published Cantera, which was my, which was my first solo exhibition with Bright Moments in Berlin. And I remember it caused a certain amount of pressure. Well, it did not cause any pressure. I put this pressure on myself back then. And I felt really, I felt tired after these 2 events. And I falsely thought that, okay, so there were these 2 things that I love doing, like such as, you know, learning and investigating on one hand and creating art on the other hand, that coincided with my feeling of certain anxiety and pressure. So the logical thing in my head was to take some time off. And I tried to do that and I was not, I realized that I'm not very good at it. I did not take these, the few months that I decided to take off, I did not take them very well. It's mainly because I didn't calculate the fact that what really often alleviates the pressure and the anxiety in me is, for instance, creating art. And I found myself there during a few long months forcing myself not to. Do what I really love. So after these few months, the pressure and anxiety caused by the fact that I was actively fighting against involving myself in art led to a situation that I decided, okay, I need to start creating. But by the time my head became this bottleneck of multiple needs and ideas that I wanted to try out and to get to work, which was not easy, which turned out to be very overwhelming. And I spent next few months making different trials, discarding an amount of work that I had never discarded in my entire life before that. And at the same time, building a certain image of what I want to do and pouring my not easy at the moment experiences into the work that started resulting in certain formal explorations. That were complex, eclectic, very, I think, ones that you can hopefully see that there is a lot of work that has been put inside in this work. But before that, it was a, it was a pretty difficult time. But when, when I finally felt that I came to peace with all those months and when I started accepting the results that I have been working on, And I already knew that this line of exploration would lead to something that I would consider, you know, not only worth, but like something I really want to show to people and just to get it out there. I contacted Verse. To be fair, Verse had contacted me on a few occasions before for multiple reasons. There was always something I had. I had a project that was going, or I had a PhD to deliver, or then a PhD to defend. And I never Got the chance to do anything with the team, and then with that, when my work on Barbarians was close to able to be validated, I felt comfortable with showing it to someone. I decided to reach out to them and to show them what I've been working on, to see whether they would be still interested in collaborating with me and publishing my work. And it turned out they absolutely loved Barbarians. After a few a few weeks of talks, one day Lonley Lonley wrote to me and asked me whether I would be comfortable if. It would be a solo show because they thought it would, it deserves this special treatment that they offer for certain artists. And I was absolutely, it was amazing news that they proposed it to me. And of course I said yes. And here we are. Here I came back from London 2 days ago. It's a fantastic experience. The effort the team put into organizing this exhibition was, was really something. I'm not used to these type of places. It's in— it was in Cromwell Place, like central London, next to all the Natural History Museum and all the super important museums in South Kensington. And I was there in my flannel shirt presenting my work. It was an emotional, an emotional experience.
Speaker C: And well deserved. You know, obviously neither of us made it out to London to see it, or else we would have done this interview there in person. But looking at all the videos and all the photos that were captured, it really just seems like Barbarians is— it presents so well in those large prints. And it's just, especially with like in the clean space, it shows so well with all of the little details, that agricultural elements, the lines and the shadows as that goes through like the trees and the bushes. It just feels so alive. Like I would never be able to point this out, that this was made by code, by the way. And seeing it huge, I'm sure it translated equally as well.
Speaker B: I was actually a little bit afraid whether this piece would— how the piece would behave in such a scale. All the outputs that I'm publishing and we are publishing with Verse are actual outputs of the algorithm. We just haven't opened the algorithm yet for the public. It's going to be long form. It's fully made of code. It's not a token that renders super fast. You can, you can tell that there's so much detail and so much geometry and complexity in it that, you know, I needed to think about optimizing it. And I thought that piece would probably work well in like maybe best in 4K, but also in like 3,000 by 3,000 pixels. But like the biggest print, I needed to generate it at 20,000 pixels in the larger direction by like 10,000 pixels. In the other direction. And I was afraid how it's going to behave. But when I saw it there live, I actually thought it was a great choice because it felt like zooming in on the piece. Because when I was testing, there's like one layer of how you perceive the output, which is like the first sight when you see the landscape and the geometric intervention at first. And then when you zoom in, you see Those little houses and churches and fields. And when I saw it in the gallery, it was, the experience was very, very similar. Like at first sight, okay, I see like this strong composition. And then I, when I approached it, it was as if I was zooming in on my computer, which translated into real-world gallery experience. It felt like it was a good decision.
Speaker A: You kind of mentioned it's gonna be long form, but is it gonna be like long form, long form random output, or is it going to be long form but curated. You know, there's kind of this distinction now, and Verse is a pretty big fan of doing either artist curated or collector curated drops at this point.
Speaker B: This piece is going to be collector curated. We want to give collectors the possibility to interact with the piece and see multiple outputs. And I'm just curious what type of output people are going to be leaning towards. The fact that I wanted collector curated was certain need of opening the possibilities of the algorithm as much as possible. So if it will be completely random, if it's completely random, then you always have to somehow restrain the algorithm so that to make sure that the probability of the outputs that you are comfortable with is as high as possible. I realized that constraining certain ranges of randomness while ensuring certain consistency between the pieces would also cut off very peculiar and characteristic outputs that I wanted to preserve. And I wanted the variety to range from something that would look like a picture, like a photography of a scenario in the landscape with the intervention and the settlers towards very geometrical compositions that were where certain elements align with the framing of the image. And in order to leave that range, I wanted to leave the parameters as open as possible. And I'm really curious. It's going to be a very interesting feedback for me to see what people look for, whether they're going to look for very strong compositions or they're going to be zooming in into what is happening in the landscape between those vaults and columns, looking, maybe searching for like those, sometimes there is like a little church appearing next to the road, surrounded by little houses. Maybe they're gonna be looking for that.
Speaker A: I look forward to playing with the generator then and starting to save some seeds. That's always a fun part of this.
Speaker C: I just got so stressed out as well, because now it's like, there's always stress from a collector's perspective. I love the Collector's Curated so much, you know, being able to spin through the seeds, find the one that you want, but there's more pressure to find the perfect one. You know what I mean?
Speaker A: For sure.
Speaker B: So one thing that I really, that I really wanted to ensure would be to limit the abundance of the outputs that a collector is faced with. I know how stressful it is because when I am testing, when I'm working on a piece, I'm testing like crazy. I generate thousands of outputs almost every day and I go through them to see whether there are no errors happening and whether everything is working correctly in the algorithm. And I know how hard it is and how overwhelming it is to choose one output out of hundreds. So the idea is to limit the number of outputs a user can browse per day to 25, because that's another thing that I really want. I want people to be able to dedicate just a little bit of time to each output they are reviewing. So I believe that if there's going to be like 25 outputs, then you can look thoroughly through all the 25 outputs and you can, you can save the ones that you really, really love out of them and form a certain opinion after a few days of interacting with the piece to what type of compositions connect to you and which are the ones that you wouldn't want as your final minted piece. So that's the idea. So limit the number of days for people to interact with to be able to save the seeds and also the maximum number of seeds to browse through. I think there's a certain strength to this scarcity and maybe paradoxically it would be, it would give people more opportunity to relate to the piece rather than browsing through hundreds of outputs.
Speaker A: Yeah, I think that's very thoughtful actually.
Speaker B: I hope it's going to alleviate your stress, Trinity.
Speaker C: Oh, definitely. But also you should have been upfront about that. That's a really important nuance to the minting.
Speaker B: We are gonna announce that soon for sure.
Speaker A: Let me ask, and I know we have to start working towards wrapping the episode, but let me ask here one kind of market-related question real quick. Being a full-time artist, I'm sure you kind of have to track a little bit more, like who are all the players in the game? Who are the platforms out there? You know, what blockchains are collectors gravitating towards? So I hope, or I'm sure you've observed that there's been a push into like Solana and artists trying to move over there. And even more recently into Bitcoin with Ordinals. Sometimes there's like a multiplier in what you can charge by going to some other chains. Like in particular with Bitcoin, it's kind of like crazy what the standard mint on Bitcoin goes for these days. So do you have an opinion on all of that? Like this now being a professional thing for you, your primary source of money, like do you have to take that into account? Have you considered looking at these other chains? Or are you more focused on going to partners like Verse and listening to what they have to say and working with them?
Speaker B: I'm aware of all those, of all those changes in the space recently. The first thing I think of is like, I'm very surprised how deep and how strong the frontiers are between certain communities. There are certain projects that are published on other blockchains that they don't arrive to me through my social media circles. I always said that people say they are chain agnostic. I'm okay, I'm chain agnostic, I guess. I am surprised how important that is for so many people where a piece is minted. It's, again, a cliché. I am focusing on art. Doing that, creating art already comes with so much weight and responsibility that you have. And you have to face, first of all, confronting yourself with with your work, and then and then getting your work out there and showing part of yourself to people, which is like super stressful. Out of all the things an artist can be and should be, the part that I struggle the most with are exactly all those market-related decisions. I really appreciate. Working with Verse and feeling that there's someone that takes care of certain aspects of what I'm doing, because I don't know if it's a good way of putting it, but when you are— creative work makes you really alone and vulnerable. And then you always wish that there was somebody that would just step in and take care of something. And that's why one of the big reasons I appreciate working with Verse is that. Have I thought about minting on other blockchains? Not yet, because it all happened when I was working on a project. I was working on a project. This is something that I do like full time. Like there's no space in my brain for almost anything else. There's no space in my brain to think about any other potential future projects and the plans for the future. I'm just I dedicate myself completely to to what I'm doing until a point where I'm too tired or or I'm in a in a moment that I feel that is so different from the moment that I started working on the project that it's time to wrap it up and either throwing it to the trash or getting it out there. Hopefully the latter. And yeah, so now I'm in this moment where it's like pre-release. I haven't thought about other ventures yet.
Speaker C: Everything that you're talking about with Barbarians, it's just such the culmination of such a long period of time. coming out of such a difficult time. And I know that we're really looking forward to seeing what's going to happen next month. For listeners, we are recording this in the middle of February, so again, things might be changing, but whatever chain you release on in the future and however you choose to do it and whatever partners you do it with, you know, we'll be very much looking forward to that.
Speaker A: We'll be watching.
Speaker B: Yes.
Speaker C: But, you know, we've also We have been recording for a while, so I think that maybe we can do some rapid-fire questions. First question, and I think I know the answer to this. Do you have any alt accounts?
Speaker B: Nope. I have a secondary wallet somewhere on Tezos, but it's nothing related to my creation board.
Speaker A: Another one here then. What do you like to listen to while you code? And do you have any recommendations for us music-wise?
Speaker B: While coding, absolutely nothing. As I said, when I'm working on a piece, not even when coding, but even when I'm just in the process of working on a project, there is so little space in my head for anything. And especially when coding, my focus has to be at 100%. I just cannot do it any other way. But generally music I like, I don't know why, but for instance, once Lonli, Ivan from Verse, We were talking about it and he guessed what music I like. And he said, you must like Pink Floyd. I was like, yeah, that's like my favorite group of all time. So I don't know, maybe he saw some relation between that and what I do as an artist. But I definitely, I like progressive rock from like the '70s, like Pink Floyd and Yes and King Crimson. What I appreciate in music is On one hand, that you can value a composition in its totality and it's like musical lines, but also I really appreciate certain musical virtuosity and attention to details and complexity of composition. So, so this is the type of music I usually listen to.
Speaker A: Nice.
Speaker C: But also I think the emotional intensity and like the performance side of it, it's not just the playing notes or even being talented. It's also about the emotive response to, you know, what are you putting into it? How are you feeling today? How does that get expressed?
Speaker B: And the work behind the music.
Speaker C: Exactly. Moving on, also with similar to art that you like, music is art. What artists do you like to collect? Who are some of your favorites out there?
Speaker B: I was gonna say, metaphorically, I grew up on Tezos, so I have There are quite a few artists that are especially important for me. I always say it, it's never a mystery. Andreas Rau, I think it's, he's my favorite generative artist, I think. And it's also because I think one of the first pieces I've minted was Loom. I have it on my wall there, printed and signed by Andreas. Should they be also only generative artists or?
Speaker A: It's your interview, your answers.
Speaker B: Oh, okay. I already talked about it in my interview with Calo, but because I'm so much interested in land art, I always have to mention at least one land artist out there. And I would go with Maya Lin. She's an architect that also moved towards art, and she's very much inspired by interventions in territory, by intervening in territory in an artistic way, but also reproducing landscape element in a controlled gallery environment. There's one artist from Ghana that I absolutely adore, which is El Anatsui. He uses bottle tops from alcohol bottles to generate structures that are reminiscent of ocean waves, but also monumental textile-like structure, maybe sails. There is a story behind the use of materials, which historically the alcohol was used as a part of an exchange for slave traders, between slave traders and the history behind that. And his critique of postcolonialism is reflected in the use of material.
Speaker C: I saw his work at the Brooklyn Museum a couple of years ago. Really? It was really cool. I didn't remember who the artist was, but the second that you mentioned it, it's just, it's so memorable. Yeah.
Speaker B: First time I saw him live was in the Guggenheim in Bilbao, near to where I live. And a few days ago, I went to Tate Modern to see his new installation in the Turbine Gallery. Enormous, like 3 enormous pieces. Very impressive. Coming back to the world of generative art, maybe not generative per se, but Web3-related art. There is a very interesting artist, a poet, Ana María Caballero. I wanted to mention her. We have a secret society as well on Twitter for architects that are in the coding. I think it would be fun to maybe make an interview together.
Speaker A: There's a lot of them.
Speaker B: There are so many, but way too many architects in the generative art. When we stick together, there's people like Erik Swahn, that I'm also a big fan of. Olga Fradina, who had a drop, curated drop on Art Blocks a few weeks or months ago already. I lost track of time. Luis Fraguada, many, many others. I don't want it to turn into a super long response.
Speaker A: And I feel like that doubles for the other question that we asked, like, who do you want us to interview? I feel like we could pick any number of those names and you'd probably love to hear an episode with them. So lots for us to work with there.
Speaker B: Yeah, that would be, that would be interesting. I think it would be fun to do an architect's interview, like, you know.
Speaker A: I mean, we're talking to some of them already. I mean, Erik, we're talking to you to do an interview this year. We've been talking to Alejandro off and on for a while. Alejandro Campos, yeah, that was the other person.
Speaker C: Yeah.
Speaker A: And I'm sure some of them, I'm trying to remember who else we've had. I can't even remember everyone that we've had on at this point.
Speaker C: I think it's becoming a little bit of a, of a meme that the best generative artists are Dutch and/or architects.
Speaker A: Yes. Well, I feel like this is a good place to stop. It's been awesome, Jacek, to get to chat with you, learn more about you, learn more about Barbarians. Hope you had a good time. Hope you enjoyed being on the show.
Speaker B: I did. I did a lot. Okay, good, good.
Speaker A: Awesome. Well then let's wrap it up and remind everyone to check out Barbarians on Verse. It will be for sale on March Probably the generator will be up sometime before then for everyone to go start collecting their seeds. That's it for this one. Thank you all for listening. Hope you enjoyed. We'll be back again soon with another episode. Big thanks to Jacek. Bye-bye.
Speaker B: Bye. Always. We're waiting to be signed.
Change log
—Initial transcript — auto-transcribed (AssemblyAI) and readability-edited.