Bob Mollema is no stranger to Wasted Talent. We first met Bob when he live painted at our Studio in Hossegor many moons back, so when we learnt he was gracing us with his presence down in South West France in celebration of an art show (and recently released Volcom Capsule) we decided to catch up.
With his recent show having just wrapped at the Atabal in our beloved adopted hometown of Biarritz, read a sell out show, punk bands and all the usual Volcom related debauchery, we found time to talk to Bob outside, us on the pints, him on the apple juices. A tall, gentle man with a keen eye for exploration, an interest in WW2 history and of course boundless creative talent. Post road trip through the Pyrenees, Basque Country and Northern Spain we pinged Bob a few questions to learn more about the method behind the madness.
His signature collection with Volcom as part of their Featured Artist collection is now on sale and available here.
A happy coincidence.
For those who missed our first interview with yourself 3 years ago, please introduce yourself.
I am Bob Mollema, and I work as an artist, illustrator, and musician from Utrecht, the Netherlands. My origins are in the east of the Netherlands, a small village subject to new construction and expansion, yet still retaining a spark of mysticism. That village is called Bennekom, and it is bordered by endless forests, heathlands and shifting sands. A region that includes echoes of age-old stories! These buzz on to this day and inspire me immensely.
Where did it all begin for you?
I’ve always drawn a lot! Once, when I was about 7 years old, I drew a comic called ‘The Man with the Bat’. However, when I was a bit older, around 15 or 16, I came into contact with regional romantic poems, sagas, and legends through my grandfather, Philip Stol. When I read this, a world opened up for me because the environment I lived in suddenly took on a hundred new dimensions. The gates of the wilderness were opened to me, and I spent a lot of time there. Seeking forest spirits, ‘vuurmannen’ (firemen), wandering lights, and other traces of a bizarre, dreamy, and imaginative past passed down through the oral tradition of legends. I tried to capture these kinds of figures in my drawings.
What are your biggest inspiration sources when it comes to making art, and has that changed much over the last few years
My most significant sources are lore and visual culture from various folk arts. Much has survived from Slavic countries, and it also has found its way into sagas and children’s books from those regions. For instance, you have Ľudovít Fulla from Slovakia! He wonderfully translates fairy tales. But I am also completely idolised by Romantic Norwegian painters who approach nature romantically and poetically. Artists like Nikolai Astrip, Theodor Kittelsen or Harald Sohlberg. Artists who relate to their environment and add an emotional layer to it so that the landscape is personified and comes alive. Or not so much to live, but at least it speaks to us. Restoring connections! This is also the reason why I find Cobra such a fascinating movement—getting in touch with your inner child and exploring how to reconnect with a primal feeling. This is often complicated because we live in a highly linear world where uniformity is the prevailing moral standard. Fortunately, we can be out of step and make strange faces at home.
The inspiration has remained relatively unchanged over the past few years. Still, I can delve into the depths more quickly as my cultural references become fixed components in my palette. As a result, I can go deeper. I am currently exploring different collaborations with other artists, though! That is very challenging and stimulates me to work in a completely different way.
And your preferred mediums?
My favourite material is oilsticks! Mainly because it has a will of its own. The material conforms to me because I determine the direction, but at the same time, the oil stick determines how much will curl away at the sides of the flat tip, giving you a kind of wake, like that behind a boat. And that trace has its influence on the entire image, making it come more alive.
Talk us through the vibe in Utrecht?
Utrecht is a small, sometimes dull, yet vibrant provincial city in the heart of the Netherlands. There is a small, close-knit artist scene featuring very creative, talented, and exceptional artists. There are also several workshops available for artists to visit. These places are artists’ living rooms, where many conversations take place, collaborations arise, friendships are formed, inspiration is shared, and grand plans are hatched. It is a small city with a big scene, so tensions sometimes occur when people get in each other’s way or adopt each other’s styles. What is striking is that many artists reside in Utrecht, yet there are very few venues for them to exhibit their work. Except for a few, the galleries that are there are rather dull or only sell work by renowned old artists. In that respect, Utrecht sometimes stands still. However, at the same time, this creates a kind of restlessness among the artists, so many initiatives are taken on their own.
As we learnt over drinks in Biarritz, you’re a bit of a history guy – where does that come from?
The area I come from is drenched in history! There are, for example, many castles and burial mounds from the Neolithic era, as well as Roman remains, Germanic villages that still lie beneath the ground, and, of course, a vast history involving the German occupation. Nearby, as I’ve mentioned to you before, there are the heathlands where the gliders landed during Operation Market Garden. When those gliders landed, they slid across large stretches of the fields and crashed their wings into the tree line of a beech avenue. If you go to that very spot today, you can still see deep gashes in the beeches, revealing what happened back then. I find that so fascinating! All these different eras collide with one another, giving the area real depth and layers to explore. Because I started engaging with this early in life, I discovered that you can make a place feel more your own and feel more at home if you have some knowledge of its history.
Talk us through your recent exhibition at the Atabal in Biarritz.
Yes, I’m very proud of it. It’s my first solo exhibition abroad, and I’ve curated a selection of various panels, oil paintings, and pencil drawings. All of the works on display are rooted in my fascination with the blurred and often troubled relationship between humans and nature. These pieces are endeavours to merge with my inner wilderness. That’s why the works frequently appear quite raw, wild, and even a bit naïve. My process is straightforward: I usually sketch each composition just once and then complete it in one go without making corrections. This approach allows me to create a space where imperfections aren’t blunders; they’re simply part of what unfolds. It’s this untamed energy that I try to carry over into how I see the world. Think of it as an act of rebellion against the uniformity that seems to be devouring everything. With this exhibition, I hope visitors will not only look at the work but also, perhaps, reconnect with their inner wilderness.
When did you start working with Volcom and how did the recent collaboration come about ?
Volcom and I launched our first collaboration in 2021, and since then, we’ve worked on a range of diverse projects together. The most recent collection came about after I got an email from Volcom asking if I’d be up for creating a new series. What I love is that they give me a lot of artistic freedom—but I usually ask them to send me a sentence or a bit of poetry that captures the kind of vision they have in mind. Having that kind of frame helps in collaborations like this; it creates a clear path through the chaos that could arise from creative freedom. What made this project extra exciting is that they specifically referenced a particular style from my portfolio—a direction that was quite different from our first collaboration. That meant a lot to me. It showed they’re open to exploring new ground with me and that they’re not afraid to take creative risks.
You’ve recently road tripped the Basque Country and the surrounding area, does this region have a certainpull for you?
What draws me so much to the Basque Country is its rugged, mountainous terrain, as well as the fact that it was Christianized relatively late, which allowed old rituals, folk beliefs, and nature worship to survive for much longer. That makes it a truly unique place in Europe. Additionally, the Basque language isn’t rooted in Latin or any other Western European language family. That adds an extra layer of mystery and intrigue to the region. You can also feel a strong sense of independence in the air, which has a surprisingly liberating effect on your state of mind when you’re there. It often feels as if, in this ancient land, spirits from old tales drift across the mountains and through the forests, infusing the region with a long-forgotten atmosphere. When you’re wandering through the mountains, it feels like you’ve stepped into a place where the human construct of time doesn’t exist. I love being there.
What were the highlights?
We were deeply impressed by Cirque de Lescun and also by the tip you gave us: Canfranc! While Canfranc isn’t technically in the Basque Country, it’s worth visiting. It’s an old train station that stood abandoned for decades, earning the nickname “the Titanic of the Pyrenees.” For years, it sat like a ghost station nestled between two mountains. Another mythical place to visit within the Basque Country is Zugarramurdi. It’s a tiny village where a large number of so-called witches were persecuted between 1609 and 1610 by the Spanish Inquisition. There were all kinds of stories about them dancing with goats in the great hall of a cave (which you can visit) and worshipping the devil there. Of course, it wasn’t the devil, but likely some ancient god passed down through generations. The Inquisition began spreading lies in this village, especially among children, telling them stories about each other’s parents, that they turned each other into toads, etc., which created a bizarre climate of suspicion and led to many women being burned at the stake. There’s a brilliant museum there now, entirely dedicated to that dark history. And something extraordinary happened. Later, when we were driving through the mountains in our Kangoo, we thought we saw a kind of shadowy figure moving between the fir trees. Not long after that, we spotted a bizarre doll lying in the roadside ditch. Maybe it was a hallucination, but honestly, the Basque Country continues to enchant me on every level hehe.
What’s next?
In the coming period, I’ll be focusing on creating new paintings, but I’m also planning to dive deeper into linocutting. I’ve already done some small experiments with it, and I’m pleased with the results so far.
Additionally, I have a very special solo exhibition scheduled for next April—but I’ll share more about that later!
And where can we find out more of your work and even purchase?
If you want to see more of my work, I’d be happy to invite you to follow me on Instagram, visit my website, or subscribe to my newsletter. I also have an Etsy shop. Something worth noting: I frequently collaborate with private clients to create custom paintings and drawings. If that’s something you’re interested in, feel free to send me an email!
Will we be seeing you back here soon?
Sure! I love it over there!
