Joost Swarte is one of those rare artists whose dedication to creative transformation reveals itself in a profound respect for various disciplines, their history and methods. In everything he touches, Joost becomes more than an illustrator proposing a two-dimensional solution; he evolves into the designer, publisher and architect.

Born on December 24, 1947, in the Dutch town of Heemstede, Joost’s childhood was bursting with inspiration that would eventually culminate into the backbone of his trademark ligne claire (clear line) style. Ligne claire, which was pioneered by Belgian artist Hergé of Tintin fame in the 1920s, is defined by strong lines, uniform colors, subdued contrasts and minimal hatching. Joost’s own interpretation of ligne claire pays homage to the bold forms of the Dutch De Stijl (“the style”) movement while paying homage to the simplicity of the comics he loved as a child. In analyzing the influences of his childhood, Joost discovered a potential for visual storytelling that would eventually become the foundation of his own artistic expression.

Joost’s iteration of ligne claire signifies more than an appropriation of his cherished childhood comic book heroes, however. He explains, “After some years, I wondered why the comics I read when I was young had such an impact. I analyzed the works and learned of their cinematographic approach. I started to work in a more graphic style, less expressionistic. Inspiration came from Olaf Gulbransson, Albert Dubout, John Held Jr., Miguel Covarubias, Steinberg, etc.”

In the late 60s, Joost began studying industrial design at Dutch Academy in Eindhoven. “In high school, I did not really know what I would like to study…my father hinted towards this [field], as it had a combination of my interests: drawing and technique.” But as Joost pursued those studies, he began to cultivate a deep appreciation for the alternative comix movement. Joost started creating comix of his own and was galvanized by this new and raw approach to storytelling. “The freedom of speech that was normal in literature and journalism [became] normal in comix too.” The censorship of the Academy would eventually prove too constricting, and Joost’s creative energy turned towards his personal work within the burgeoning comix movement. In pursuit of creative freedom, Joost left the Academy to explore the world through his own graphic stories.

“My early comics were heavily inspired by Crumb, Shelton, Moscoso,” Joost explains. In 1970, he started his own comic book series, Modern Papier, and also began publishing in the underground Dutch comic magazine Tante Leny Presenteert, firmly rooting himself in this up-and-coming visual movement.

Having established a genuine community, Joost found himself having profound conversations with other artists, yielding insights that would continue to reveal inspirations. “We discussed the heroes in the field: Little Nemo, Krazy Kat, Milt Gross, Rube Goldberg. I remember I published an old work, Little Jimmy, by James Swinnerton. I tried to find out where he lived — a nursery home for the elderly — and did send him a copy.”

As the burgeoning alternative comix movement continued to gain momentum internationally, underground artists received access to an unprecedented platform. In 1980, Joost participated in the Salon International de la Bande Dessinée in Angouleme, France; this exposed his work to a new audience and led to his work being translated into English, French, Italian, German and Spanish.

Having created a name for himself in the alternative comics world (most notably via Jopo de Pojo, Katoen + Pinbal and Dr. Ben Cine and Dee), Joost took the next creative leap. Expanding on his deep understanding of illustration and comics, he founded the publishing house Oog & Blik, with Hansje Joustra, in 1985. Their partnership focused primarily on graphic novels, underground comix, autobiographical comics, picture books and Joost’s silkscreens. The venture allowed complete creative freedom for Joost while also providing a platform to champion other illustrators, even translating foreign artists’ comics into his native Dutch.

But perhaps most interestingly, Oog & Blik also provided Joost an opportunity to diversify and expand his creative problem solving. His work had often been deeply personal and reflective. “The characters in my comics are almost all carriers of elements of my own character. My doubts, my love for music, my positivity [are found in] Jopo de Pojo; my drive to teach, my search for solutions [are found in] Anton Makassar. In fact, the dialogues my characters are involved in are interior dialogues in my head.” In establishing the publishing house, Joost began working with distinguished artists. This helped Joost develop more than an expression of his interior universe: he began to think like a designer.

While Joost’s aesthetics always remained artistically relevant, his deep curiosity and reverence for different fields always contributed to his adaptivity. His playful juxtapositions and bold graphic style remained a constant as he began to create a prolific body of work that established him as much more than an underground comics artist and publisher. Joost expanded upon his illustration career by creating covers for The New Yorker; designing posters, CD covers, stamps, bookplates and logos; and creating sculptures and large-scale stained glass windows. He even dabbled in furniture design, perhaps most notably with the carrot table: a sleek, minimalist number featuring a clear glass top and four carrot legs. It’s a piece that managed to be both chic and cheeky.

In 1996, Joost embarked on his largest project to date: De Toneelschuul. Located in the oldest part of Haarlem, De Toneelschuur was Joost’s foray into architecture. Resolutely modern and fresh, this architectural gem managed to fit seamlessly amongst the patchwork of the city. Featuring two theaters and two movie theaters (no Hollywood nonsense allowed) this creative leap, in partnership with the prominent Dutch architectural firm Mecanoo was not just a theater, but also a hat tip to the community and its architecture.

In his interview with Dutch Profiles, Joost explained the connections between illustration and architecture. “The users or residents of a building should be viewed as your readers. You hand them something and they finish it. But you need to give them enough space to finish to their own tastes.” In 2004, Joost was commissioned to create a large-scale, stained glass window for the Palace of Justice in Arnhem (Netherlands). Featuring vignettes of characters behaving selfishly and malignantly, the piece invokes the narrative history of stained glass while updating the message into a contemporary and wholly relevant critique. We are, essentially, reminded of why such an institution needs to exist.

When discussing current projects and the future, Joost projects the same energy and joy that have punctuated his career. He talks excitedly about yet another stained glass project, this one featuring a delicate composition of birds. Joost even shares his sketches, pointing out the negative space that will allow the outside in. “The drawn line is the lead. The white is transparent, so you can see what the weather is like.”

Joost’s intellectual curiosity and appreciation for “adventure”, as he so nicely articulates it, are as alive as ever, and I am struck by the subdued playfulness that has presented itself throughout his career. At one point, I’d asked how he engages his audience: “You should never underestimate [them]. They want to be surprised. At least I do.” With over 50 years of surprises under his belt, Joost surely has many more in store.