1935 BY WILLIAM MAPAN
This was part of an ongoing series of articles that released was digitally in November 2022. They were first published in the print edition of the Bright Moments Quarterly that was distributed at NFT ART CDMX in Mexico City.
Malte Rauch: Thanks so much for taking the time to do this interview, William. I know that you are very busy with your work and family at the moment. What is your creative practice like with so much going on?
William Mapan: My creative practice is basically a mess. Before I had a kid, I didn’t need a lot of sleep. During the day, I was working as a Creative Developer and at night I worked on my own projects. I would be fine with five hours of sleep.
Now things are different. For the last six months, I have been working full-time on my own work. But having a small child just limits the amount of time you can dedicate to your work. When I was working on Dragons, my son was six months old and I was still working at my day job. It was very hard. Every time he took a nap, I was working on my art.
With a small child, you are in this zombie mode: half awake and constantly on alert. At some point I realized that I have to limit myself somewhere to manage my time. And I decided to cut the time I spend on social media. Unfortunately, some people interpreted this as a lack of interest; but my diminished presence is really born from necessity. Now my son, my partner and my art are my focus.
You know, I never created on demand. I always had to be in a certain state to create art. Now, I have been forced to learn how to create on demand by necessity. Strangely, however, it seems to work even better than before.
Your professional background is in creative software development, so code and creativity always played an important role for you. How would you describe your relationship to art? And when did you start to think of yourself as a professional artist?
For a long time – maybe for the past nine years – I understood myself first and foremost as a coder. When I was asked what I do for a living, I would say: “I am doing stuff with code.”
After university, I started my professional career as a motion designer working with Flash and Adobe After Effects. It was a great community at the time. After a while, I also started to code my own tools. Continuing this trajectory, I eventually became a full time coder. On the side, I followed my creative interests. So I ended up in the position of a “Creative Developer,” but my self-understanding was centered on being a coder.
As time passed, I became increasingly interested in using the technical tools for doing more creative stuff on the side. But I was just tinkering on my own and I didn't even know the term “generative art.” Once I had discovered the term, which was roughly five years ago, I could really dive into the field and its historic roots. And yet, at the time I thought that this is such a small niche that it will always remain a hobby.
When you code, there is almost a sense that it would be forbidden to do anything that is solely creative. Coding is about solving problems and making things work. But in generative art, there is nothing to solve. Nothing to optimize. You just create for the sake of it. That’s why generative art was the perfect outlet to escape my day job.
How did you get introduced to NFTs? From the Bright Moments Session with Matt DesLauriers in London, I know that you worked with him on a video game. Did he play a role?
Yes, it’s really all Matt’s fault. In fact, I heard about NFTs in 2020 because I was in a tech bubble on Twitter where I was sharing my art. Some random people began asking me: “can I mint this?” I had no idea what they were talking about. But when I superficially looked into it and saw all these profiles with pixelated avatars, I initially didn't want to have anything to do with it.
Some time after I had first heard about NFTs, I was helping Matt with a game. And Matt told he was minting works on Tezos. You know, I was completely new to this: I didn’t know what a wallet or a smart contract was. Matt explained the different platforms and the decentralized nature of blockchains to me. And I began to understand that there is more to it than I had realized initially.
Hic et Nunc was released at that time as well. The UI was horrible. The UX was trash. But the platform itself was so fresh, so new; it reminded me of the early days of Tumblr. Prior to that, there were platforms like Foundation, but that was all on Ethereum and the prices were quite high So I just began to experiment on Hic et Nunc. I minted my first work. The piece sold, and I remember how surreal it was to realize that I can make money with this. All my life, I liked what I didn't know. And getting started on Tezos was the perfect outlet for this curiosity.
How did you experience working with the different platforms – Hic et Nunc, Fx(hash), Art Blocks – and the communities that are associated with them?
Prior to Fx(hash), I had heard very briefly about Art Blocks. And, to be honest, I wasn’t really into it at first. The projects on Ethereum were just too expensive for me at the time. So I decided to be on Tezos and I felt perfectly fine with that.
Then, Fx(hash) came out of nowhere. I was immediately hooked and had major FOMO to do something on the platform. I loved Fx(hash) for its openness and inclusivity. During the first weekend after the platform had gone online, I was frenetically working on a project that I wanted to release immediately. However, after the first rush of adrenaline went away, I thought to myself: that’s not right. I wanted to take the time to create something really meaningful. So I continued on the series I was working at that time which became Dragons. It took 5 months... you can't rush those things!
During the time I worked on Dragons, there were so many beautiful projects released on Art Blocks – like Meridians by Matt or Edifice by Ben Kovach. Because I was so impressed with these projects, I took a closer look at the platform and realized how strict it is in terms of the requirements. Everything had to be on-chain and there were no external dependencies! That, of course, made me appreciate Art Blocks and the projects released on the platform even more.
After I understood the constraints that people were working with on Art Blocks, I wanted to take that challenge on myself. So I began working on Anticyclones. That was maybe one month after the release of Dragons. Working on Anticyclones was crucial for me. Without the restrictions imposed by Art Blocks, I wouldn’t have created the project. The constraints shape the project, and I decided to make the work very personal. Who am I? What do I want to convey? These were the questions that motivated Anticyclone – whereas Dragons was about doing something that people can connect to. Looking back, I can say that I evolved a lot thanks to Anticyclones.
During the last year, I wasn’t driven by a specific chain or platform. It was more about where to be at a moment in time. It was about what felt compatible in a specific context. And I want to continue doing that in the future.
Your previous projects display a very unique visual vocabulary that excels in the creation of texture and materiality. What fascinates you about this “analogue“ aesthetic and how do you achieve this on a technical level?
That’s a really interesting question. Only recently, I started to ask myself why I love this aesthetic so much. In part, I think it is because of my personal perception of materiality and tactility. You know, I often draw and paint by hand when I am not coding. The materiality of these mediums make me feel connected to the art. And I think that if I feel connected through it, other people might too. For me, texture is a connecting tissue for people. Texture links me with my art. And it links me with everyone else.
In my practice as a creative coder, however, I am not content with just copying textures. Rather, I create something that feels like paper but also has visual elements that couldn’t be real. For me, this raises really interesting questions about the understanding of materiality in art. What is materiality? What is the link between material and digital textures? These are the questions that my works raise.
The test outputs of your project for NFT ART CDMX continue this interest in materiality. They look like a beautifully structured, colorful fabric. Why did you choose this project and how did it evolve?
Yes, I think the project is a great continuation of my work so far. The work plays with the aesthetic and feel of a colorful, heavily structured fabric.
My work has always been about color and textures. If you look at my work from far away, you might wonder whether something is digital or material. And I want to continue experimenting with unique combinations of materials, patterns and textures. It’s not about making the algorithm more human or analogue. Rather, it’s about making the viewer feel connected to the artwork through the perception of materiality and texture.
The reason why I decided to show this series is that I wanted to do something colorful. It feels appropriate to Mexico and its colorful culture. Personally, I have these two sides: I like minimal, monochrome compositions, but I also have a color side. And for Mexico, I want to convey emotions through texture and color.
What are your plans for the exhibition space at Prim? What experience would you like to create for your audience?
First and foremost, I want my collectors to be excited about the work. The exhibition design is partly inspired by my experience of doing a workshop in embroidery, which is an incredibly slow process. But in the end, you are happy because you can deeply appreciate the process that has led to the final result. In a similar way, I want the reveal experience to be structured around the rendering of the piece. The way the piece renders feels like a process of embroidering a garment. And as the work slowly builds up, it will ignite anticipation, contemplation and excitement in the viewer.
In that sense, the IRL minting component is influencing my work with the code, and specifically the design of the rendering process. What I am interested in is the shift of emotions that may occur during the reveal. I imagine that collectors will follow the rendering of the work with curiosity and excitement. And shaping this experience is quite exciting for me.
Generative art is having a special moment. Where do you see the space headed and what would you like to explore next in your own work?
I definitely want to slow down my pace. You know, I never liked to rush things and I don’t want to be caught in the crazy pace of the space. Even though I produce hundreds of outputs each day, I want to be extremely selective about what I release. In my mind, that’s the only way to elevate one’s practice. It’s really inspiring for me to see established visual artists who do two or three projects a year. This is the pace that I would like to work at.
In a more general perspective, I think that generative art will become part of contemporary art. And it is our responsibility as generative artists to build bridges to the existing art world. Focusing only on the crypto bubble is not good, I think. Generative art is for everyone. And I want the world to see and acknowledge my art. Generative art should be in institutions. This is our responsibility. And I think we are on the right track.
