Chaos and Order with Tom Zaw
For award-winning artist Tom Zaw, art is more than a practice - it’s a physiological necessity, a separate state of consciousness, and a euphoric outlet for his creativity.
Combining precision with expressive energy, Tom transforms simple tools like pencils and pastels into vehicles of profound emotional resonance. Drawing inspiration from themes such as human connection, architecture, and the pursuit of stepping outside his comfort zone, his work masterfully balances chaos and order.
When did you first realise that you wanted to be an artist and how did your creative career begin?
When you whistle under the shower, you are a copier. When you cook from a recipe, you are a copier. When you follow the same path to work or at work, again you are a copier. But if you add a new element to any of them, you may suspect an artist sleeping within you. If so, it is only a matter of time before you realise you shape the reality around you. This means you create.
We all copy, and a good copier is always highly demanded in life. That is why it isn’t easy to find out whether the artistic nature is part of you and when the beginning is.
Which artists or artistic movements have had the biggest influence on your work?
Definitely, it was 2020 when I turned my attention to the Pastel Society annual exhibition. The society invited me to participate, and then the whole world of drawing opened to my eyes when I saw the PS show. I was stunned by how fantastic artworks could be made using dry media.
What mediums or tools do you prefer working with, and how do they impact the look and feel of your work?
My old tool, pyrography, is not so hot these days as a plethora of others has taken prime position - pencils, charcoal, and pastels. Pencils, however, have become my arm extension. The moment I plug the pencil into my hand socket, the whole body called Tom Zaw turns into a pencil.
How would you describe your style, and what advice would you give to other artists trying to find their own unique voice?
The time I start my lines and marks, the world around me disappears. It’s like a separate state of consciousness, which I am very fond of. It is not easy to describe what is going on with your body when you are THE body. What I notice is the ability to focus, not so much on what the hand is doing but on what the vision is.
The final effect of my work resembles chaos and order in one. That purely reflects my own personality: surgical precision combined with a humorous and loose approach.
I do not recommend my style to any artist. Well, nothing wrong if you try, but you should ask yourself what suits you best - copying or creating. If you step onto the creative path, make sure it aligns with your character, and it will eventually give you the euphoric artistic outcome that we all desire.
Do you prefer working in monochrome or colour, and why?
We had a black-and-white TV set at home during my childhood. I was quite surprised how accurately I could talk to others about colourful shows they had watched on their colour TVs. For example, sports. Black and white was enough of a palette for me to build the full image (or were the TV hosts more descriptive at that time?).
Anyway, good monochrome art doesn’t need colours to speak. It can also be used for emphasising the content and definitely stimulates the brain to work on what is seen rather than just to receive a more or less ready image.
Nevertheless, I am far from saying winter games are more, or better, than summer games. There is a time for each. I have equal pleasure working in both colour and monochrome. Naturally, more of my works are monochrome.
Do you find that certain themes appear repeatedly in your work? What draws you to these recurring elements?
I do human faces, human figures, and architecture by inclination. Maybe because I find them easy or attractive. I am aware of this intrinsic fondness, and I try to avoid or at least challenge my proclivity. Leaving the comfort zone is a necessary part of the creation process and progress. So, new themes are always welcomed.
Can you share a bit about what we might find in your sketchbook? Are they more experimental or polished?
I don’t keep a typical sketchbook. I’ve never learned this form. Instead, I make quickies, notes, sketches, and experiments on separate pieces of paper - any paper. Most of them eventually land in the bin. Physically. But they stay in my memory as new experiences on the way to shaping my character.
Some of them I keep, I publish on Instagram @tomzawart, and sometimes I sell. Others just remain in the past. Among them were, for instance, drawings with my finger tipped in coffee grounds or toothpaste, or made with a flame blower. A massive part of them reflects what just came to my mind at that very moment. These could be lines, dots, working out my finger’s flexibility, or drawing in dark, half-dark, eyes closed, left hand, right hand, etc.
Do you have any rituals or habits around using your sketchbook, such as a specific time of day or environment?
I draw because I have to. It’s become a physiological need of the mental zone but resembles hunger for food or some sort of positive addiction. My body would always remind me if I didn’t take a pencil for too long.
I think I keep a good balance between curiosity and diligence on one hand and laziness and procrastination on the other. I draw every day, usually in the evenings. If I don’t, I think about drawing. I mean I do it theoretically, using imagination. Another very good form of exercise is to critique others’ works (not them). Finding as many mistakes, laziness, or lacklustre elements in the best artworks of top artists. After that, you become more immune to repeating mistakes you’ve pointed out in others’ works. Quite important is to imagine your own approach to avoid that error you noticed. It could be technical, aesthetic, or inferred from an external influence, like historical background.
You’ve won multiple awards for your work. How has that impacted your career or artistic practice?
We all like to think we are self-reliant and creating for ourselves. Yes. And no. Self-satisfaction is on top of the list and vital. Later on, the feeling that something is lacking is usually a sign of desire for feedback. Van Gogh had talent, compulsion, and work ethics, yet his artistic life was one big misery, even worse than millions of today’s artists worldwide. Let alone his private life.
Imagine if he had Instagram, access to independent curators online, or just any audience. We can create for ourselves, but we can’t be happy with just that. It is others who, by sharing their time, attention, or resources, build appreciation for the artist’s talent and commitment. Even a single “like” on social media means someone made an effort for you, thought about your art, and said, “thank you for the pleasure of seeing your art.” This, I call the food for the artist’s soul.
Do you approach creating work for competitions differently than for personal projects?
Personal projects need high self-discipline and give more freedom of choice. Competitions are a challenge. There are other participants, rules, and timelines to follow. In personal projects, you are the master. All accolades are yours, as much as the full responsibility. In competitions, you are one of hundreds or thousands who make the show together.
Both are very demanding, though. In the former, you make rules and generate fulfilment. In the latter, you follow rules and conceivably receive satisfaction.
When it comes to planning, quality, and engagement, I try to keep the same high standards. Although competitions give more thrill as not everything is in my hands.
See more of Tom Zaw:
Instagram: @tomzawart
Website: www.tomzaw.com
Email: info@tomzaw.com
See other news:
