Chronogrid:An interview with Joain
“The tools may be digital, but the thinking is tactile.” - Joain
With a drop on objkt.one this Thursday, May 8th, Joain brings Chronogrid to life — a series rooted in earlier gestural compositions, where expressive abstraction is compressed into structured, data-like forms. The collection includes four unique pieces and two editions, each with the option to redeem a physical counterpart, through a partnership powered by Artscape.
Chronogrid is the result of training models based on the artist’s own practice — occasionally drawing on external references for mood or texture, though never as direct sources. “I think of the training process as curating a visual memory for the model; one that reflects how I see, not just what I’ve seen,” he told me in a conversation a few days before the launch.
This new series represents a kind of shift from Joain’s very-own abstract outputs — with a more architectural touch or vision, but the same artist’s DNA. “It’s an expansion. I still love and will keep making expressive abstract work. What changed wasn’t the foundation, but the frame.” An artist who takes colour very seriously, Joain sees it as a structural element in his work, not ornamental: “I’m very aware of how colour can shape rhythm, weight, and movement. I don’t treat it as an afterthought or decoration,” he says.
Read the full interview:
When did you first identify as an artist? Do you have a formal background, or is your path more self-taught?
I didn’t have a moment where I declared myself an artist; it was more like a slow unfolding. I’ve always been driven by the urge to make images, to construct worlds. I started early with graphic design, then evolved into a fascination with systems, layers, and visual logic throughout my VFX career. My path has been mostly self-directed, shaped by experimentation, adjacent disciplines, and a lot of reverse-engineering. The tools may be digital, but the thinking is tactile.
When training your models, do you feed them primarily your own work, or do you also include external references or datasets?
It’s important to me that the visual DNA stays close to my own voice, so I mostly work with pieces I’ve made at certain points in my career — drawings, scans, digital compositions/collages, and other digitally altered outputs from my early GAN days. That way, the model isn’t just echoing trends or aesthetics from the internet, but learning from something already rooted in my practice. I do bring in outside references sometimes, but more as mood or texture, or as altered compositions, than as direct influence. I think of the training process as curating a visual memory for the model — one that reflects how I see, not just what I’ve seen.
How do you approach colour choices? Is it a conscious decision or something more intuitive?
Colour is one of the most instinctive parts of my process. I often know a piece is working not because of the composition, but because the colour makes my body feel something — a kind of internal resonance. Sometimes it starts with a single tone that sets the emotional register, and the rest follows as a chain reaction. But I’m also very aware of how colour can shape rhythm, weight, and movement. I don’t treat it as an afterthought or decoration — to me, colour carries structural responsibility. Over time, I’ve developed a kind of internal colour logic, but it’s always in flux. I think that tension between intuition and calibration is what keeps it alive.
You moved from expressive abstraction to something more visually systematized, in a way. What triggered that shift?
For me, it isn’t a departure from chaos — it’s an expansion. I still love and will keep making expressive abstract work. What changed wasn’t the foundation, but the frame. I felt the need to challenge myself with new compositional logics for this particular series for objkt.one — grids, systems, frameworks — but approached with the same intensity and spontaneity as my more abstract gestural work. It’s like layering new dialects onto the same voice. I’m always looking for ways to evolve without abandoning what brought me here. This shift isn’t a replacement, but more of an extension of my usual abstract work.
The title Chronogrid suggests both a temporal and a structural dimension. Does the name reflect that conceptual shift in your work?
Chronogrid feels like a fusion of time and structure, but in a way that’s fluid rather than fixed. I’m not trying to measure time or draw literal maps; I’m more interested in the feeling of orientation — how we try to locate ourselves in something abstract, whether it’s memory, data, or emotion. The grid isn’t there to control the work; it’s there to contain it just enough for the instability to show through. The name emerged as a way to describe what was already happening in my process — a kind of internal architecture that’s always been there, just made more visible.
Imagine a world without computers. Do you feel your artistic identity is intrinsically tied to digital media, or could you have become an analog artist? What tools would you choose in that case?
I think the core of my practice isn’t about the medium — it’s about building visual systems, layering meaning, creating tension between order and unpredictability. That could absolutely exist without digital tools. In an analog world, I’d probably gravitate toward anything that allows for repetition and chaos, layering, and controlled accidents: maybe screen printing, collage, handmade stencils, or any mixed media, really. I’d still be chasing the same questions, just through slower, more tactile processes. The computer accelerates certain possibilities, but the thinking behind the work runs deeper than the tool.
What possibilities are you still exploring with neural networks? Any technical constraints that you are eager to overcome next?
I’m excited by the idea of having more control — not just over the final result, but over the entire process. I’d love to move toward more interactive tools, where I can guide structure, layering, or composition step by step. Something closer to collaboration than completion. Technically, I’m also eager for higher resolution without losing the texture and painterly qualities I love. I want to steer the chaos more precisely, without flattening its energy.
1/1s pieces includes a high-quality hahnemuhle photo rag print (shipping+taxes not included) available for claim directly through Artscape, exclusively for the winner of the auctions.
Collectors of editions pieces have the option to order high-quality fine art prints of this NFT through Artscape's print-on-demand service.
Prints are produced at locations close to the collectors for faster delivery and reduced environmental impact. The artist has carefully curated the available paper options and quality standards to ensure each print stays true to the original work. This service offers a seamless way to collect a physical version of the artwork with care and integrity.