What Inspired Me In September?
Bastiaan Woudt
I recently travelled to the Emirates for work. I can’t share much yet about why I was there, but what I experienced left a strong impression on me. There is something unfolding that I believe could shape a beautiful chapter ahead. During the trip, I was invited to visit the Abrahamic Family House in Abu Dhabi. I hadn’t expected to go there, but the visit left me quietly moved. Three sacred spaces, equal in form, each rooted in a different tradition. A mosque, a church and a synagogue, side by side. The architecture felt thoughtful and intentional. Balanced, not blended. Distinct, but not divided.
The complex was designed by David Adjaye and was created to foster dialogue, mutual understanding and peaceful coexistence between the Abrahamic faiths. It’s not only a place of worship, but also a space for cultural and educational exchange. You can feel that intention in every line and material. It’s architecture as invitation, not instruction. What stayed with me most was the way light entered the buildings. It reminded me how powerful stillness can be. More about the project here: https://www.abrahamicfamilyhouse.ae Art and SpaceThis month I spent time looking at the work of Isamu Noguchi. I’ve always found his sculptures and objects calming to look at, but recently I started to understand more deeply why they stay with me. His work is simple, but never empty. He uses natural shapes, soft edges, and space in a way that feels very human. Nothing feels forced. Nothing is trying too hard. It’s as if his pieces are just quietly present, without asking for attention.
I’ve been thinking a lot about how strong that is. How powerful it is to make something that holds its own space, without needing to explain itself. That kind of presence inspires me. Noguchi’s work reminds me that beauty can live in small details. In the way a curve catches the light. In the quiet between forms. It made me want to slow down and look more closely, both at art and at the spaces around me. BooksI’m currently reading two books at the same time. They are very different, but together they give me a lot to think about. The first is The Creative Act: A Way of Being by Rick Rubin. It’s not really a book about how to make art. It’s more about how to live in a creative way. He writes in short, quiet thoughts. Almost like poetry. It feels like a conversation with someone who has seen a lot, but doesn’t pretend to have all the answers.
At the same time, I’m reading Your Brain on Art, which looks at what happens in your brain when you experience or make art. It’s based on science, but still very accessible. It explains how art can change your mood, your body, even your memory.
What I like is how these two books meet in the middle. One is about feeling, the other about understanding. Together, they make me reflect on how I create, why I’m drawn to certain images, and how I experience beauty in everyday life. Sound and ImageThis month my exhibition Portraits of Music opened at the Leica Gallery in Amsterdam. It will be on view until the end of November. Sharing these portraits with the public for the first time feels like an important step. The work has lived quietly with me for a long time.
One of the portraits is of Marrøn. I photographed him a while ago, but his energy has stayed with me. His music is hypnotic and layered. It draws you in slowly. There is a pulse in it that feels physical, but also emotional. Seeing the image now on the wall, printed and quiet, feels like a conversation between image and sound. You can listen to one of his latest tracks here: Kwinti Witagron Technology and ObsessionI recently watched Don’t Die: The Man Who Wants to Live Forever, a documentary about Bryan Johnson. I’ve followed his journey for years. His lifestyle, his routines, the extreme precision with which he lives. There’s something both inspiring and unsettling about it.
The film is beautifully made. You get a sense of who he is behind the data. His obsession with health, youth and control goes far beyond the usual biohacking story. He is trying to outsmart time. To turn his body into a system he can master. There are parts of his approach I fully understand. Taking care of your body. Avoiding processed food. Living with intention. But watching the film, I kept asking myself the same question. At what point does discipline become distance? From others. From yourself. What stayed with you this month, without asking for your attention? — Bastiaan Invite your friends and earn rewardsIf you enjoy Studio Notes, share it with your friends and earn rewards when they subscribe.
© 2025 Bastiaan Woudt
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