Creation as Survival: In Conversation with Joep Van Lieshout

For many artists, freedom is a luxury. For others, it’s a question they never stop asking. For Joep Van Lieshout, freedom and survival are not opposites, they are two sides of the same instinct. 

“Survival,” he says, “is the primary emotion of human beings. We all want to live, eat, love, and grow old. It’s instinctive. Nobody naturally wants to die or lose.”

But for him, freedom is not about survival, but a force that’s been stretched, redefined, sometimes even weaponised. 

“Freedom used to mean the ability to express yourself openly, to speak, to move, to create,” he says. “Now, it’s often misused by people with bad intentions. Still, everyone deserves it. Freedom is the foundation of a decent life.”

When asked if freedom should ever have limits, he pauses before answering. “Ideally, no,” he says. “But some will always misuse it. What we lack today are wise leaders, people who think in decades, not reactions. 

“Society has become short-term. We fix problems with bandages, not blueprints.”

This same resistance to shallow thinking shapes his art. His work often unsettles or confuses, and though many have called him a provocateur, he rejects the label. “I don’t aim to provoke,” he says. “I aim to challenge myself. I want people to stop and think, not just look and forget.”

Atelier Van Lieshout, Destiny, 2021. Photo Benjamin Baccarani

His pieces rarely offer a single message. “My art is a translation of my feelings,” he explains. “It’s communication in another form, emotional, historical, personal.

I want people to be a little confused when they see it. Confusion leads to thought, and thought leads to dialogue.” That philosophy lives at the heart of Bad Ideas for Good Living, a work that reimagines post-war optimism, that belief in technology and progress as automatic good. 

“It’s a play on ideals,” he says. “Sometimes bad ideas, bold, unconventional ones, lead to better outcomes. It’s about perspective.”

In Brutalist Monkey, he explores human evolution through the lens of creation and destruction. “Humans are both,” he says. “Every act of creation destroys something else. 

Atelier Van Lieshout, Brutalist Monkey, 2023. Photo Benjamin Baccarani

Industrial revolutions, social media, even medicine, they build and they break. Change demands destruction.” But for him, destruction is not always negative. It’s a sign of movement. “You can’t move forward if you’re too afraid to break what exists.”

Functionality is another recurring theme in his practice. Many of his sculptures are designed to be used as furniture, tools, or conceptual machines. “We’re moving toward a world where individuality defines everything,” he says. 

“People want objects that speak to them personally. Art that’s not only beautiful but useful.” His ongoing project, Sanitas Futurum, imagines the future of healthcare and technology.

“Art will change as communication evolves,” he adds. “Some pieces will exist only for moments, experiences rather than products.”

Artificial intelligence, in his view, is simply the next extension of human curiosity. “AI is still a child,” he says. “It allows anyone to create, but creation without knowledge or intuition is empty. 

It’s a tool, not a replacement. It will democratise art but also make it more competitive. And that’s a good thing. Competition keeps art alive.”

Among his most personal works are his bird sculptures, creatures that seem to watch, wait, and think. “They’re self-portraits,” he admits. “To survive in art, you need wisdom, persistence, and hunger. 

The vulture is my favorite. It lives on the edge of life and death, transforming what’s discarded into something new. That’s what artists do.”

Atelier Van Lieshout, La Petite Princess, 2023. Photo Benjamin Baccarani

Despite his reputation for pushing boundaries, he doesn’t dream of utopia. “A perfect world is impossible,” he says. “But striving for it gives meaning to our lives. A better world is one where everyone’s basic needs are met, safety, education, freedom. Beyond that, perfection becomes fantasy.”

Even his approach to sustainability avoids easy clichés. While he often uses recycled materials, he insists that the purpose runs deeper than environmental messaging.

“It’s not about recycling for the sake of it,” he says. “It’s about creating systems where everything connects, old and new, man and machine, chaos and order.”

He doesn’t see himself as a provocateur, a visionary, or even a futurist. He’s an observer, one who turns thought into form. “You only live once,” he says with a small smile. “So you might as well make something that matters, something that lives longer than you.”