AN INTERVIEW WITH LEANDER HERZOG
“The work should unfold on your device — that’s the difference between looking at original art or just a representation or reproduction.” - Leander Herzog
One of the last primary market pieces of Flips (2022) by Leander Herzog — on objkt.com
Leander Herzog is a “generative classic” OG based in Switzerland, part of the mid-2000s gen art class who learned from Marius Watz during the first Processing era — now more into JavaScript and GLSL, tools and languages that “run in a browser,” as he explains in this interview: “The work should unfold on your device — that’s the difference between looking at original art or just a representation or reproduction,” he says. And that’s why it’s easy to associate his name with web art.
Between rugs and gardens, Herzog offers our eyes and minds a torrent of projects, from 2007 to 2025, which you can explore — and play with in awe — on his website, coded by himself. Did I mention he also has a background as a web developer?
His work has been acquired by museums and institutions like HEK (Basel), ZKM Karlsruhe, and Francisco Carolinum Linz — not to mention all those important exhibitions he’s participated in, like Transmediale Berlin, DAM Gallery, Kunsthaus Pasquart, Kunsthalle Zürich, SODA Manchester or Basel.
“Ingeniously antagonist,” as another OG, Golan Levin, once described one of his works, Leander also has, apparently, a mysterious aura. Digging a bit deeper across the web, I found some curiosities about his life — graffiti and hacking included — and suddenly it all made sense to me.
It was a quick conversation. I was particularly obsessed with Flips, like half of Web3 right now — a 2022 project that applies a generative method called recursion in its process, and has recently bloomed again. I can now say I’m a happy collector of one of its unique pieces, which, strangely enough, has nothing to do with graffiti. At least not consciously.
Raquel Gaudard - Of course, this first question is a way to get straight to the point where you brush up against graffiti and computers — if that point even exists. Or maybe that moment, for you, was actually a rupture. By the way: do you still do graffiti today?
Leander Herzog - That’s where I’m coming from, but I signed an NDA. There was a moment, as I was finishing a piece, when I realized I do not enjoy all the physical labour of painting anymore. I’m done with wearing those gloves, holding my breath, and living with paranoia. It’s a sport. Looking back, it was a good workout and fun years — way better than the following years I spent with computers and falling down the internet.
“I used Processing for a long time, and it influenced me, no doubt. I moved on from the tools and aesthetics of that time, but a lot of positions remain relevant.”
RG - I started researching generative art more deeply in the mid-2000s, around 2005 to 2008. At the time, I was following Marius Watz’s Generator.x project. I was still living in Brazil, and it felt like there was a group of digital artists in Europe developing an entirely new visual language through generative art — coding with Processing -, at least from my perspective. You began working with generative art around 2006. Were you influenced by that scene?
LH - Yes, a lot! I was also getting into this from 2005 to 2008. I learned Flash and ActionScript. Then I got an intro to Processing in a workshop by Marius Watz. It did feel like a special time, with an emerging generative aesthetic, and the tools and communities around them. I used Processing for a long time, and it influenced me, no doubt. I moved on from the tools and aesthetics of that time, but a lot of positions remain relevant.
“ I really don’t like skeuomorphism. I wouldn’t intentionally make a work that pretends to have the aesthetic of another medium or technique. I’m more into navigating what emerges from the medium I’m actually working with — I don’t pretend to paint.”
RG - I can’t help but draw a certain parallel between graffiti and your Flips series (2022). I can almost picture you drawing with a spray can — the patterns, the billions of dots like scattered paint. Was that intentional, or is it just my brain making those connections?
LH - This is true, but was never intended. The image emerges from a recursive process that generates a tree structure. I start with a point and grow branches. Every branch has two more, until at some point there is an end. That’s where I place one of these colored points. The resulting shape follows the structure of a tree — the spray aesthetic is only a side effect of this. I really don’t like skeuomorphism. I wouldn’t intentionally make a work that pretends to have the aesthetic of another medium or technique. I’m more into navigating what emerges from the medium I’m actually working with — I don’t pretend to paint.
“I’m also very open to embracing whatever errors or unexpected results I run into. A good work often has one or more aspects that emerged in the form of uncontrollable mistakes and then get promoted to play an active role in the composition or experience.”
RG - Now, while we’re on that topic — randomness versus planning in generative art: are your outputs pre-planned in some way? Do you start with a clear vision of where you want to go, or is it more about experimentation, with the concept or story of the series emerging later? And which programming language(s) do you work with?
LH - Usually, I start with a general direction or idea, which I stick to unless I end up in a totally unexpected place — that’s rare, but it can happen. Computation adds the option of visual complexity and scale, so I already know the result will be beyond what I can imagine, as an image, before it actually renders. Therefore, I try not to get too attached to any early vision of the work, but to pay attention to what actually emerges from the process. I have some expectations that I plan for.
Like what an artwork should or should not do, in general. But I’m also very open to embracing whatever errors or unexpected results I run into. A good work often has one or more aspects that emerged in the form of uncontrollable mistakes and then get promoted to play an active role in the composition or experience. I do need some control over the work, but at the same time, I can accept things I don’t fully understand. It’s fine to not have all the answers and roll with unclear consequences, as long as they’re not critical and don’t crash the artwork.
I work with JavaScript and GLSL. There are other languages and tools I use sometimes, but I’m focused on what runs in a browser because that’s how my work reaches an audience. The work should run and unfold on your device — that’s the difference between looking at original art or just a representation or reproduction. I’m interested in the work running and performing itself, instead of making postcards.
Downloads (still), 2024, Leander Herzog. Exhibited in Web as a Medium, owner: stateless.
RG - And about “generative classic” — what do you mean when you include that in your bio?
LH - Someone made a list on Twitter a long time ago, categorizing digital artists, and I made it to “generative classic.” Also, Golan Levin called a work of mine “ingeniously antagonistic,” which I liked a lot, so I added that to my bio. These are all just hyperlocal memes.
RG - In generative art, there’s often a moment where the artist has to select which outputs to keep, mint, or discard — a kind of curatorial act embedded in the process. How do you approach this stage? Do you see it as a creative extension of the code, or more as a necessary constraint imposed by the format?
LH - If possible, I try to avoid it. Sometimes I can’t, so I got good at selecting. I’m fast, have the stamina to deal with thousands of outputs, and never look back. But the goal is to make work that doesn’t need me to select outputs.
Minmax (2023), visual by Leander Herzog and audio by Milian Mori. Exhibited in Sonic Imagery, it’s an imaginary audiovisual space between flatness and perspective, interaction and resonance.
“It feels like the moment between realizing something is off and understanding you’ve been scammed. Can somebody please drop a new meta? I’d do anything for just a five-minute break from all the slop.”
RG - Are you interested in AI in any way? What’s your relationship with the tool?
LH - I’m not using AI and have no plans to do so. AI is interesting, but everything is very AI recently, and I’m surrounded by vibe coders. It feels like the moment between realizing something is off and understanding you’ve been scammed. Can somebody please drop a new meta? I’d do anything for just a five-minute break from all the slop.
RG - You once mentioned having a background as a hacker. How much of that mindset carries into your artistic practice today? Do you see a clear parallel between hacking and making generative art, or are they distinct in your view?
LH - I hacked a website once. Or twice, long ago. Anyway, I’m not a hacker. I’m an optimist, but it helps to have some adversarial thinking — especially with programmable money as material. I imagine the people selling zero-day exploits and the people selling hyper-contemporary art would have a fun dinner.
Enjoy Flips and the full body of Leander Herzog’s work on objkt: objkt.com/@leander
Have fun exploring all the projects on his website: leanderherzog.ch