Interview with Artist Chris Silverman

Today, I am excited to spotlight Chris Silverman, whom I met on Pixelfed last year.

Chris Silverman is a designer, artist, and illustrator living in New York’s Hudson Valley. Since late 2021, he has done one drawing in the iPhone Notes app every day, sharing them to social media under the hashtag #notesArt. He explores a wide variety of themes: isolation, technology, internet culture, and the overall sense of being adrift in an alien world. Icons, symbols, and emoji often play a role in his work.

Cendrine Marrouat: Hello Chris! How did you get started as an artist?

Chris Silverman: I've always been an artist. I was drawing before I could read or write.

CM: Could you tell us about your creative process? Do you make art every day? 

CS: I do now, for #notesArt. I didn't always. It's easy to get distracted by a thousand daily urgencies—and then you look up and months have gone by and you realize you haven't done anything creative.

My creative process part is both simple and hard. The simple part is the routine: settle on an idea, put on a podcast, and draw it. The hard part is settling on an idea. I don't have any one particular method for that.

One thing I've been doing as a general life strategy is trying to reclaim otherwise wasted time: periods when I'm sitting in traffic, walking from place to place, waiting on a phone call, etc. I use those periods to come up with ideas. Inspiration-wise, I draw on surrealism, social media posts, internet culture, technology, or whatever's in front of me. When I have an idea, I put it in the Notes app and tag it. That way, I have a whole library of ideas when I need them.

When I'm ready to start drawing, I launch a shortcut—a small automation, which I'll discuss a little later on—that creates the colored background. I paste that image into the Notes app and draw on that. (One question I get asked a lot is if it's possible to zoom in on a Notes drawing. If you're drawing on the note itself, you can't zoom; if you're drawing on a pasted image, however, you can. Figuring that one out made a major difference as far as how precise I was able to get in these drawings.)

I also try to avoid putting too much time into making something work. I've posted a few timelapse videos of drawings on Vimeo and you can see that in some cases, I might work extensively on some particular aspect or detail before erasing all of it and going in an entirely new direction. There are ideas that ultimately can't work, and I don't think sunk-cost thinking reliably results in good art. I'd rather burn three hours of work and get a good drawing than keep it and wind up with a mediocre one.

But a core part of my creative process is something that isn't directly related to creativity at all: cutting down on my use of social media and, to some extent, news sites. I go on social media platforms every day to share my work, and I'll briefly check out work from a few of the artists I like, but I never spend time casually browsing these places. They're awful and they only get worse. Limiting my use of social media was one of the best things I ever did as far as being able to think creatively.

CM: Two years ago, you started the #notesArt project, a daily share of your drawings made using your iPhone’s Notes app to draw. Tell us more about it. What sparked the idea? 

CS: In the video I did for the project's one-year anniversary, I said that #notesArt originated when I was bored and experimenting with Notes one night. It did, but that's the abridged version, since the video format didn't really lend itself to extensive narration. The deeper root of #notesArt was Instagram Stories and Apple Shortcuts.

I don't know how many people know this, but Apple includes an app called Shortcuts on iOS devices and, more recently, Macs. I love Shortcuts. Love it. I've been using it for years now. Shortcuts is a scripting/automation tool that lets you chain together various app and system functions into small automated workflows called shortcuts. You can have a shortcut that takes a screenshot and pastes it into a new note, or a shortcut that assembles a bunch of images into an animated gif and emails it to someone—whatever you want, really. I have Shortcuts-powered tools for everything these days: adding to-do items when I get certain emails, posting to blogs, setting up the canvas for new #notesArt drawings, etc.

So what I was doing in late 2021 was exploring how Shortcuts could be used for artistic purposes. I did a number of experiments. I had a shortcut that would grab a random photo from my photo library and use image recognition to decide what was in it, and then generate an image with the prediction printed directly on the photo. It was inaccurate enough to be entertaining. I had a shortcut where I'd select a photo and then doodle on it, using the drawing tools Apple provides for annotating documents. I had another shortcut where it would display a randomized, minimal outline of a face, sort of like Dudel Draw, and then I'd fill in the details, again using the drawing tools.

(I should clarify at this point, for anyone who doesn't know, that the drawing functionality I use in Notes isn't specific to the Notes app; it's a system-wide feature provided by iOS and included in multiple apps.) These were fun little projects, but in my mind, they weren't refined or coherent enough to be worth sharing anywhere.

I'd noticed around this time that my friends—and my sister in particular—were using Instagram Stories extensively to highlight small creative projects and random things. I hadn't taken Stories very seriously before this; I just didn't see the point. I'd always been careful about the creative work I shared on social media, especially places like Instagram. I thought of these platforms more as portfolios, so I didn't see any benefit to posting serious, polished work, and then having it disappear in 24 hours.

But I was also increasingly frustrated at how I hadn't been sharing art the way I used to. I'd post photography, but I didn't have any drawings that were complete enough for me to be satisfied with; just experiments. It occurred to me that the impermanent nature of Instagram Stories might be perfect for half-baked fits and starts: maybe one Shortcuts sketch a day or something.

On the night I posted my first #notesArt sketch, I decided to start drawing directly in the Notes app. Shortcuts didn't automatically save drawings as I was doing them, and Notes felt like a better place for this kind of work anyway. So I did a whole bunch of really quick drawings in Notes, none of which I liked, and finally I did a drawing of one of those ghosts from Pac-Man—I don't remember any reason for that, I've just always liked the ghost designs—and something about that felt like what I was going for. I shared it to Instagram Stories, and that was the beginning. I had some vague idea of doing this regularly, but it wasn't a serious plan or anything.

I do remember wondering briefly at the time—by which I mean approximately one in the morning—what the project, if that's what it was, might ultimately turn into. Like, "I wonder what would happen if I was dedicated enough to do this for a solid year." I didn't think anything would happen. Crude drawings in Notes? Nobody was going to care about that.

CM: Why do you think this project is important? What sets it apart from the rest? 

CS: I like to think I'm showing that it's possible to do meaningful work with underestimated tools. A common reaction I get is "I had no idea it was possible to create drawings like this with Notes!" People think I'm using a high-end painting app and an Apple Pencil, not a stock system app and my finger.

What makes #notesArt important to me is that it's often the one creative thing I get to do in a day. I've been doing it for over 600 days at this point (as of August 2023). It's the only creative project I've had where I kept at it for that long. That kind of focus, and track record, gives me a new appreciation for what I'm capable of.

CM: How has the project been received so far and why do you think it is the case? 

CS: It's gotten very positive attention. #notesArt struck a nerve with people on a level I didn't expect.

I've noticed a pattern where someone will like something I posted to social media, and then they'll like about 30–40 of the other posts in quick succession. They're clearly scrolling through everything, actually looking at it. I've never had that happen before. One person went through my entire body of work, and then commented afterwards, describing it as an intensely emotional journey. I feel kind of humbled that anyone would react to my work like this.

Also, as I mentioned above, a lot of people seem to be amazed that finger-painting full-fledged artworks in the Notes app is even possible. If I wasn't doing it, I would probably be surprised too.

CM: What are the two pieces from the #notesArt project that you feel sum up your style as an artist? If so, why? 

CS: I was going over them (620 as of August 2023), and I don't think I can specify any two particular ones. They all reflect my style. Different aspects of it, at least.

The bigger issue, though, is that I don't know that I even have a style, or that #notesArt does either. There are some inevitable consistencies across the #notesArt body of work—similarities due to the medium, and the way I build up textures—but I experiment with a wide range of different visual approaches and ideas, especially lately. I get bored focusing on only one method, one idea.

And #notesArt isn't the only artwork I do, either. As an artist, I've never done things just one particular way. I remember when I was researching what it took to be an editorial illustrator; one of the more common bits of advice was "have a consistent visual style, art directors like to know what they're getting." I thought, which style do I pick? It wasn't like I had one default way of working. 

On some level, I envy people who have a signature style, a "brand". I've just never worked that way. A consistent approach would be a conscious constraint.

CM: What or who influences your work the most?

CS: That would be a pretty long list. Towards the top of it, though:

- M. C. Escher. This guy defined my sense of surrealism before I ever heard about the actual Surrealists. I was obsessed with his work when I was a teenager.

Something I always notice in Esther's work: there's a quietness to it, not the fever-dream absurdity you see in surrealist paintings by Bosch or Dali. Most of it is soft monochrome gray. It's hard to describe as minimalism, exactly, but that's the sensation I get from it every time I see it.

- Rene Magritte. When I was nine, I ran across this tiny book of his most famous paintings. (My parents have a whole library of art books, so this wasn't an unusual thing to find in my house.) This was a very simple book, mostly just pictures. I couldn't stop looking at them. Again, as with Escher, there's a quiet simplicity to them that's haunting.

- Tove Jansson. She wrote the Moomin series of books; my mom read those to me when I was a kid. Jansson is known mainly for her writing, but her art—which I first encountered as illustrations for her books—is amazing: these intricate, expressive line drawings.

- I'll also mention Simon Stålenhag. I was fascinated with the world he created.

CM: Is there an art medium that you would like to try? 

CS: I've always been curious about 3D printing.

CM: What is one of your artistic quirks that you feel makes you unique among your peers?

CS: I had to think especially hard about this one. Everything that immediately comes to mind—being obsessed with small details, odd subject matter, colors, etc—doesn't seem unusual for the artists I know.

I think one aspect of me that's a bit unusual is the fact that I'm also a professional designer and web developer, so I have a frame of reference that goes beyond fine art. My work often includes elements of my other areas: graphic design, user interface elements, posters, typography, warning signage, icons, things like that. 

CM: What would you like people to learn from your work? 

CS: That there's artistic potential in the simplest, most utilitarian tools. I mean, there's artistic potential in anything, but it seems to be a common assumption that to be a digital artist, you need to be familiar with powerful expensive software. You don't.

My first digital art tool was MacPaint, so I might have more of an appreciation for the artistic potential of very limited system apps than, say, someone who's never handled a floppy disk, but I remember seeing a lot of amazing art done with MacPaint. A number of the artists I follow are sharing work they did in low-cost, simple apps like Linea or Procreate. It's really good work.

On the topic of system apps as art tools, I'll say that I think Apple's newest app, Freeform, has a lot of potential. Apple is framing it as more of a design/collaboration tool, but the art tools, selectable objects, and enormous canvas are perfect for drawing. If Freeform had existed in 2021, I might have used that instead of Notes. (Or not; I've said before that the limited nature of Notes helped curb my perfectionist tendencies.)

CM: According to you, what role does art, especially digital art, play in society? And do you see this role changing in the near future?

CS: That's a tough one. I think the fundamentally impractical nature of art—in the sense that art isn't expected to serve some quantitative/functional purpose the way a website or machine does—provides room for making society more interesting, and revealing aspects of the world, in a way that more literal, practical means of communication couldn't. Digital art is a twist on that because it's born of a medium that's nothing but practical. Ones and zeroes is about as ruthlessly functional as it gets.

The most immediate answer is that I see digital art bringing out creativity in people who wouldn't otherwise consider themselves capable of anything artistic. This is the first time in human history that most people can afford a powerful, multifunctional creative tool, and carry it on them at all times. Everyone has a camera now; everyone's a documentarian. And the opportunities for artistic choice—even very limited and simple ones like filters—give people an idea of what it's like to actually create something: to invest some measure of personal taste and choice in making something, and sharing an aspect of the world that's specific to them. There will be a lot of people who won't be happy with me for putting selfies and filters in the category of "art," but I think it's an arguable point. If that's not art-making (and I say it is), it's at least a gateway drug.

Support Chris Silverman’s Work!

• notes art: https://notes.art
• Mastodon profile: https://mastodon.social/@csilverman
• Instagram profile: https://www.instagram.com/csilverman

That's it for today! Thank you for reading!

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Cendrine Marrouat is a writer, photographer, podcaster, blogger, anthology editor, and the co-founder of Auroras & Blossoms and A Warm Cup of Cozy. She has authored and co-authored more than 40 books, including The Train: A Short Story (2023), In Her Own Words: A Collection of Short Stories & Flashku (2022), After the Fires of Day: Haiku Inspired by Kahlil Gibran & Alphonse de Lamartine (2021), Rhythm Flourishing: A Collection of Kindku and Sixku (2020), Walks: A Collection of Haiku (2019-2020), and In the Silence of Words: A Three-Act Play (2018).

Cendrine's work has appeared in many publications. She is the creator of the Sixku, Flashku, Sepigram, and Reminigram; as well as the co-creator of the Kindku, Pareiku, Vardhaku, and Hemingku.