10 Questions: Daniel Gómez Vega

10 Questions: Daniel Gómez Vega

In the second of our Issue 10 contributor interviews, we discuss process, inspiration and resisting hyper-specialisation with Colombian born Daniel Gómez Vega. An illustrator and graphic designer who currently splits his time between Porto and Palermo, Daniel does most of his work in a room with a window overlooking the river. Employing a range of visual approaches to a wide variety of commercial and personal projects; common themes in much of his work are refined compositional structure and a striking dream-like figurative focus.    

 

Could you define the approach or philosophy of your work?

I would start by saying that for me illustration is a sort of middle ground between graphic design and fine arts. In my client work, I try to be as concrete as possible so consider illustration as something related to visual problem-solving. It should communicate something quite clear and, of course, it should not be an end in itself but something whose main purpose is to “illustrate” or complete something else. In a way my approach is more related to graphic design and the “form follows function” philosophy, even more when the project I’m working on has a graphic design component, like when I’m working on a poster or an infographic.

It's also important for me to develop personal projects. For these I use an approach more easily found in the fine arts field than in the field of commercial illustration. For these projects I like to develop images that are independent of text or try different “styles”. I also enjoy thinking directly into physical objects. For example, I have been experimenting recently with illustrating short stories that can be printed on both sides of a folded A3 sheet so it fits in your pocket or inside a small envelope. Recently, we worked with Giulia Calì on a short story about distraction, logistics and adaptation called “A tale of misdeliveries”, and I think it is going to be part of a series: another story is going to be about being stuck, and a third one will be about change.

Of course, I’m presenting these two different approaches (the concrete one, more related to the applied part of illustration, and the experimental one, which can be more similar to the fine arts) that could seem completely separated from one another; as if my client work and my personal work never get mixed together. The reality, of course, is a little bit more nuanced, as my client work nourishes my personal work and vice versa, and on every project I try (or I do it unconsciously I guess) to mix a little bit of the two approaches.

Above: Collaborative Process

Which piece of work or project have you learned the most from and why?

I learned a lot of things last year when I did a diversity and inclusion guide for the Learning Planet Institute. There are various reasons for this. First of all, it was a medium-term project, so it gave me plenty of research time and opportunity to think about the different problems that started to appear through the process. It involved more than fifty illustrations, four or five infographics and a cover. Secondly, I was in charge of both the illustrations and the graphic design, so I learned things on both of those levels (I have to say, Jan V. White’s Editing by design was of great help). Thirdly, the main topic of the guide was related to social sciences, which was also interesting for me (I have a master’s degree in anthropology). In short, I learned various things on many “fronts”, which is something nice. I think I’m more a “Jack of all trades, master of none”, in the end, and I’m not really interested in the hyper specialization that is the norm nowadays in society at large.

Above: A Tale of Misdeliveries

'I think I’m more a “Jack of all trades, master of none”, in the end, and I’m not really interested in the hyper-specialisation that is the norm nowadays in society at large.'

 

What are the skills do you think needed of a good art director and how does it help to improve your work? 

I guess the more obvious and immediate answer is that a good art director can help you make the best decisions about a particular illustration for a specific publication. They are the one that oversees the whole graphic production of the full issue, so they have eyes that go far beyond your single illustration.

One good skill to have is a good sense of communication, in two ways: not only to clearly identify what the illustrator is trying to convey and helping them if they are struggling, but also knowing how and when to tactfully, and in a 'friendly' way, suggest trying a different approach. The “friendship” analogy can seem strange in the professional field, but I do think there is an important relational part when working with freelancers. It doesn’t necessarily mean having some pints together or getting particularly personal, but it does involve building relationships of trust with people you may collaborate with again in the future.

Above: Industrial Policy

How important is research to your work and why does it matter?

For me research is not only important, it is something I really enjoy as well. I like looking at new things and discovering culture (illustrations, films or music) that I didn’t know before and that somehow make my life “richer”. It makes me feel that I am in movement, and that’s a good thing. I think that one of the reasons I became an illustrator was because it can somehow help me satisfy my curiosity.

I also think that research can be very broad. It always depends on the amount of time I have at my disposal, but if I can afford it, I really like to spend some time “understanding” some things that I can apply to what I am working on. For example, I can take some time to see how Tomi Um or Cristina Spanò construct their buildings, or how Cinta Arribas draws her humans. Sometimes I just like to explore stuff that has nothing to do with illustration. For example, for one of the illustrations I did for this Beneficial Shock issue, I was interested in the idea of a collection (like museums or Panini albums), so I looked for different ways of showing or exhibiting a collection. At the end it was a collection of objects of popular devotion, like an altar, specially altars from non-Christian traditions or at least Latin-American syncretic altars.

But occasionally even going for a walk can count as research. I remember listening to a Ryan Gander’s interview about the fact that no two people brush a room in the same way, and that the world is full of different details that can be visible for those who are alert. So, sometimes, when I’m blocked with an image, I find the answer outside of my place instead of inside my screen. It may be related to walking, or looking at things that aren’t directly related with what you are doing at the moment. That may seem a little bit abstract and aleatory, but it is sometimes true.

Above: Travail Collaboratif

'For me research is not only important, it is something I really enjoy as well. I like looking at new things and discovering culture (illustrations, films or music) that I didn’t know before and that somehow make my life “richer”. It makes me feel that I am in movement, and that’s a good thing. I think that one of the reasons I became an illustrator was because it can somehow help me satisfy my curiosity.'

 

Which illustrator alive or dead do you most admire and why?

One of the illustrators I like the most is Beppe Giacobbe. I sometimes feel many conceptual illustrators can be repetitive or do not care that much for the aesthetic part of the image, but that's not the case with Giacobbe. His images usually have a good mix of thought-out and aesthetic qualities. Additionally, I enjoy the fact that he is not overly compromised with a singular “style” and he experiments a lot, for example with his “Climate strike online” images. Last but not least, I love that he is politically engaged as an illustrator, making images or working on projects that are about anti-fascism, ecology, or anarchism.

What is one part of your working process that you do well, something you could improve and something you wish you never had to do again?

I think one of my main strengths is that I usually don’t lack “inspiration”. My problem would be the opposite: if I don’t have a clear brief or another person (most often an art director) with whom I work, I sometimes have trouble deciding which idea would be the best fit for a specific project. Most of the time it is just a matter of taking a pen and starting drawing and trying stuff, something akin to Antonio Machado’s “you make your way by walking”. I’m not saying that I only have good ideas, far from it; but they are ideas that are good enough to keep me going. If that doesn’t work, and if I have enough time, just doing some research and looking at things helps me to get started. I already have several ideas for personal projects that I would like to develop: right now, for example, I’m working on a series of posters of fake conferences and meetings of various groups of people, such as tetris players, poets, unsatisfied workers or beekeepers.

Above: Four posters 'Processing'

I could for sure improve many things in my work. One of them would be to manage my time better, especially in very short-term projects (like newspaper assignments). Not that I’ve had a particularly bad experience, but of course, you cannot do something in half a day that you would consider doing in two or three.

And about something that I wish I’d never have to do again, the first thing that came to mind is not necessarily related to my everyday working process, but it is something I try to do every week or every two weeks: cleaning all of my tools (my computer, my pen and my graphic tablet) and doing a back up of my “Work” folder on my hard drive. It is necessary, but if I could not do it, that would be great.

What is your favorite film poster and what film do you wish you could have done the poster for?

I think my favourite film poster is Michelangelo Antonioni’s Blow Up (1968), the red version with the black and white characters. I used to have it for a couple of years on my room’s door when I was a teenager, so I’m kind of emotionally attached to that poster. And, although I haven’t seen that film in a while, I used to watch it at least once or twice a year until my mid-twenties. I guess I would like to have done a poster for Ozu, more because of how much I like many of his films than anything else. The Flavour of Green Tea Over Rice (1952), Good Morning (1959) or Late Autumn (1960) would have been great.

Above: Poster for Antonioni's film Blow-Up (painted by Ercole Brini)

What film do you recommend to others most often and why?

I think I have periods of time in which I recommend a specific film to others. They were classic films that were impactful for me at a specific moment of my life, such as Kaurismaki’s I Hired a Contract Killer (1990), Subiela’s The Dark Side of the Heart (1992), or Wong Kar-wai’s In the Mood for Love (2000). Over the past two or three years, I’ve found myself recommending The Eight Mountains (2022). I remember going out of the cinema feeling slightly melancholic, but also very satisfied with having seen that film. I love it because it speaks about friendship, a topic that is usually disregarded in mainstream cinema, especially when compared to (heterosexual and monogamic) love. It also deals with the question “how do you build something?” or “how do you live a life?” when you don’t follow the “traditional” path made of studies, stable job, retirement. And it has beautiful landscapes and an amazing soundtrack.

What object from a film do you wish you could own and why?

I’m usually attracted to two kinds of objects. On one hand, I’m interested in tools in general; objects that have a specific use and accomplish a task in the best way possible, like a kitchen knife that helps you cut your vegetables nicely, making your everyday life so much easier. On the other hand, I’m also attracted to small objects with very specific shapes, that can be nice to touch or that have a reassuring weight on your pocket. The perfect example in this case would be the spinning top from Inception (2010). It would be kind of useless, and I would be more attached to it because of its shape, size and material than because of the symbolic importance of the object in that film.

Above: Illustration to accompany a piece on the film Slacker in Beneficial Shock! issue 10

The great film critic Roger Ebert described film as an 'empathy machine' suggesting it is a way for us to connect fully with lives and experiences of others that we will never ourselves live. With this in mind, what film have you watched that has had the greatest impact on you emotionally and tell us why if you can?

I saw Paternal Leave (2025) recently, and I was surprised by how much I was emotionally moved by the film. It’s the story of a German teenage girl that goes to the north of Italy to meet with her biological father for the first time. And, along with their conversations and the two days or so that they spend together, you somehow manage to experience both of the characters' innermost lives. You can feel the father’s awkwardness, but also his desire to reshape his life and his desperation about not being able to do it. You can feel his fear and the frustration that pushes him to a moment of physical violence (a slap, although this is by no means a justification for physical violence). At the same time, you can empathise with the young daughter: you feel her insecurity, her anger, and her deception towards the father that has entered her life. You somehow manage to be inside of both of them at the same same, and maybe that is why you feel sad at the end of the film: everyone in this film has their own reasons for acting the way they do, nobody is particularly good or evil, and even the best intentions don’t assure you that there is going to be a happy outcome, much like in real life. ∆

Daniel illustrated the article 'On the Road to Nowhere' about Richard Linklater's 1990 film Slacker for the Journeys and Destinations issue.
See more of his work at www.danielgomezvega.com

Back to blog