Tom Sachs speaking at IKEA: My Personal Journey with Chairs via Tom Sachs

I really love this presentation by Tom Sachs. I feel inspired to create when I watch it.

I loved Pete Mondrian. I really wanted a Mondrian, but I didn’t think it was authentic to move down to Wall Street and get a job in finance to afford one. So, I went to the Museum of Modern Art and I made one out of gaffer tape. Um, I think I spent more time with Broadway Boogie Woogie than Eli Broad, the property developer who spent his life making money to buy it and give it to the Museum of Modern Art. So I think I found authenticity in that experience.

I love this explanation of making copies/deriviations of other works and still making them your own art:

I thought, well, how am I going to make it mine? That’s always the question. Like, how do you find authenticity in deriving from other people’s work? And for me, it was showing the screws. Jud would never show a screw. Just completely miraculous - never a weld. So for me, it was leaving the pencil marks, leaving the screws, um, drilling lightening holes (and that’s lightening to not lightening and thunder, but lightening to save weight. Because there’s a world in which if you remove material, the structure can actually get stronger because there’s less weight that you need to support.)

This connected with me on my interpretation of the Studio Stool.

A good explanation of his style:

A hybrid of a very casually made things and very precise made things is what it’s all about for me.

Surpising to find this bit about physical exercise that I wholeheartedly agree with:

Athletic exercise is important, and I think sports are really important because they help us shut off our brains and connect with our bodies. They remind us that our brains and bodies are one. People always say, “Oh, no. You got to keep your body strong so you’re good at your job.” But the opposite’s true. You’ve got to use your brain to make time so you can exercise your body to take care of it, because without it, you can’t live. They’re one, you know; there’s no hierarchy.