Tenzin Tsémé's artistic journey

I am Tenzin Tsémé, an illustrator based in Sainte-Marie-la-Mer, near Perpignan, in the Pyrénées-Orientales (France).Today, I mainly create imaginary towns and villages, architectural drawings and compositions where detail, line and colour construct places that do not always exist, but which could almost exist somewhere.

Above all, I am a travelling soul. I love discovering new landscapes, observing towns, villages and their architecture: the shape of a roof, a façade, a narrow street, a staircase, the way houses fit together or sometimes seem to cling to one another.

These images stay in the memory and later reappear freely in my drawings. Architecture glimpsed on a journey might sit alongside an invented house, a Mediterranean village might blend with Asian influences, or an industrial building might become the starting point for an imaginary city.

Today, drawing also allows me to travel without leaving my studio. I can start an illustration by the Mediterranean and find myself a few hours later in the middle of the mountains, in a village inspired by Tibet, a Mediterranean city or a place that exists on no map.

However, my career path has not been built solely around illustration. Painting, sculpture and writing preceded or accompanied drawing and each has left a trace in my way of creating: a taste for colour, the attention given to volumes and materials, but also the desire to tell stories and build universes.

Today, these various experiences can be found primarily in my work as an illustrator. Travels, architecture, imagination, sea, mountain and Buddhism form a sort of personal library from which I draw to build, drawing after drawing, my own places.

Why the name Tenzin Tsémé?

Tenzin Tsémé is my artistic name, but it is not a randomly chosen pseudonym.

The first name Tenzin, which is also the Dalai Lama’s first name, was passed down to me through a spiritual lineage: from the Dalai Lama to my teacher Tenzin Loden, and then from my teacher to me. Tsémé was also given to me by my master. In Tibetan, it evokes that which is Tsémé is also a name given by my master. In Tibetan, it evokes that which is immeasurable, without limit.

This name therefore reflects an important personal and spiritual aspect of my journey. It also fits in quite well with my creative process: not imposing limits on a drawing too quickly, letting a city grow, allowing one piece of architecture to inspire another, and seeing just how far the imagination can take me.

Before signing my works Tenzin Tsémé, I also used the signature Mimo Tsémé. Today, Tenzin Tsémé is the name under which I develop my artistic work.

A long-awaited desire to create

I did not attend art school, and my artistic journey did not begin particularly early. The urge to create had nonetheless been present for a long time. Around the age of forty, I discovered a painting club and finally decided to take the plunge. Painting was my first true gateway into artistic creation. There, I learned how to handle brushes and palette knives, work with oil and acrylic paints, create texture and mix colours. I also discovered the very special feeling of painting on canvas. I already loved depicting landscapes, houses and villages. Painting was my first true gateway into artistic creation. There, I discovered the handling of brushes and knives, working with oil and acrylic, texture, mixing colours and that very special feeling that canvas provides. I already loved depicting landscapes, houses and villages.

I also had the opportunity to take painting classes with Casimir Ferrer, in the TarnThis experience complemented my otherwise largely self-taught training. Painting has taught me to look differently at colours and masses. Above all, it has given me confidence in an essential idea: you can start creating late in life and gradually build your own language.

From canvas to clay: discovering volume

After painting came sculpture. Working with clay allowed me to approach creation in a completely different way. It was no longer just about building an image on a surface, but abouttaming volumes, contours and the third dimension.

I naturally rediscovered in clay what already drew me to the canvas: houses and villages. I created architectures and small sculptural groups by hand, working directly with my hands. This period meant a great deal in my journey and still stays with me today, as I am a member of a sculpture and modelling association. It taught me to think about a structure not just by its façade, but also by its depth, its volumes, its levels and its relationships with its surroundings. I find this way of thinking again today when I compose a city on a sheet of paper.

Aliosha’s Journey: drawing as the starting point for a new universe

The illustration arrived later, almost by surprise. I had first written my novel Alyosha's Journey. Once the text was written, I felt like illustrating some of the places in the story. It was while trying to give a physical form to the settings I had imagined that something new began.

Then I started drawing.

Unlike painting, I hadn't followed any particular training in illustration. I learned by drawing, by trying, by observing and by gradually developing my own graphic solutions. The first illustrations related to Alyosha opened a door that I haven't really closed since. I realised that drawing brought together several things that particularly attracted me: the possibility of building a very detailed universe, the freedom to invent architecture and the ability to tell the story of a place without needing to place characters in it.

Over time, I developed more ideas, greater technical mastery and, above all, much greater creative freedom. Drawing was no longer just there to accompany a novel. It was becoming a territory in its own right.

Tenzin Tsémé and the imaginary cities

Today, imaginary towns and villages and villages form the core of my graphic universe.

I can start from a Tibetan house, Mediterranean architecture, a pagoda, a mountain village, a fortress, an industrial building or a construction observed during a trip. These references are not intended to be reproduced identically. They serve as a starting point.

I gather them, transform them and combine them.

A house can be moved onto a rock. A pagoda can join a collection that does not correspond to any real country. An old factory can become the centre of a fantastic city. Aqueducts, footbridges, stairs or improbable structures can appear as the illustration takes shape. This freedom is essential in my work. I am not looking to draw cities that are technically possible. Rather, I seek to create places that give the impression This freedom is essential in my work. I am not looking to draw cities that are technically possible. Rather, I seek to create places that give the impression that they might exist somewhere.

Characters generally remain absent or very discreet. It is the architecture that tells the story. A window, a door, an alleyway or a bridge is sometimes enough to suggest a life that the viewer can imagine for themselves.

How is an illustration born?

I don’t usually start a piece with the composition entirely worked out.

The first step is to seek out the spirit of the place I want to create. I can draw inspiration from homes around the world, villages, ancient towns, industrial architectures, monuments or landscapes. Travelling naturally adds to this library of images, as does observing my surroundings.

I then sketch out the broad outlines of the composition in pencil. I deliberately keep this preparatory sketch quite light: it allows me to organise the main forms without restricting the illustration too early on. Next comes the felt-tip work. The initial structures are drawn, then the details gradually appear. It is often at this stage that the work truly takes its direction. One façade calls for another building, an empty space becomes a walkway, and a rock accommodates a few additional houses.

I work with various sizes of fine-tipped felt-tip pens depending on the level of detail required. Stones, bricks, windows, staircases, doors and roofs then help to give the whole structure a sense of substance. I only use colour when I feel it adds something to the work. Some illustrations remain entirely in black and white; others feature a few bold colours or more extensive colouring.

Detail as a visual language

I am naturally drawn to images in which the eye can wander. Attention to detail is therefore not merely an exercise in precision. It serves to create multiple levels of interpretation. An illustration can be understood as a whole when viewed from a distance, but then reveal a host of small details when viewed up close.

I love it when you discover a house for the first time, then a staircase that’s almost hidden, a bridge, a window that’s different from the others, or a passageway you hadn’t noticed straight away. This visual richness is particularly evident in my A3 illustrations. Their size allows me to create large compositions without losing the delicacy of the drawing.

However, I do try to retain some quieter areas. An extremely detailed drawing does not need to be filled in everywhere. The white of the paper also plays a part in the composition of the image.

Black, white and colour

My relationship with colour has evolved alongside my practice. Painting had taught me to work with a rich colour palette, and my first colour illustrations naturally built on that approach. In particular, alcohol-based felt-tip pens allowed me to explore layering and colour gradients.

Over time, black and white has become more prominent. It suits my imaginary cities particularly well, as it allows the eye to focus on the structure of the drawing and the subtlety of the details.

Colour has not, however, disappeared from my work. It now serves a more deliberate purpose. It can create contrast, enhance a mood or give a particular series its own identity.

This approach is particularly evident in the small-scale works I am currently developing.

Square formats: condensing a whole world into a few centimetres

Alongside the large illustrations, Tenzin Tsémé is putting together a collection of square formats, notably in 21 × 21 cm.

These small formats allow me to concentrate a whole universe into a smaller space. I build villages and architecture inspired by different regions of the world such as the Mediterranean, Italy, Portugal, Scandinavia, Tibet, Morocco, Japan or India, as well as suspended, mechanical or entirely imaginary cities.

The format requires a different approach to composition: choosing what to show, preserving the whiteness of the paper and finding a balance between architecture, details and colour.

Each drawing thus has its own geography. Some remain in black and white, whilst others feature bolder colours, but they all reflect the same desire: to invent places that one might almost believe to be real.

A place for abstraction

My work is not limited to architecture.

I also create abstract works, particularly around curves, spirals, lines, organic shapes and graphic repetitions.

This practice seems very different from my villages, but I eventually find the same compositional logic. I start with a relatively simple element and then develop it until the forms begin to converse with each other. The’abstraction also allows me to work with fewer narrative constraints. It offers a space in which the rhythm of the line and the overall balance of the composition become the priority.

An illustrator between the Mediterranean and travels

I'm living in Sainte-Marie-la-Mer for 10 years now, on the coast of the Pyrénées-Orientales, near Perpignan. The Mediterranean is part of my everyday surroundings, as is the very distinctive light of the South. The mountains are never very far away either. I love this proximity between sea and mountains, two landscapes that have long nourished my imagination.

However, my inspirations travel much further. When I discover a country or region, my gaze naturally turns towards the architecture: materials, roofs, openings, colours, the layout of the streets and the way the houses fit into the landscape.

I am not trying to recreate these places. I hold on to fragments of it, which my imagination transforms.

Buddhism is also part of my personal journey. Certain Asian influences therefore appear naturally in my drawings, without any intention of producing religious art.

Travelling from my seat

I really do love travelling, but I equally love returning to the peace and quiet of my home to create. A very different form of travel begins when I sit down in front of a blank sheet of paper. I can spend several hours almost motionless and yet travel across countries, blend architectural styles that should never have met, and build an entire city.

This is probably one of the aspects of illustration that I’m most fond of: the ability to travel from my seat.

All you need to get started is a sheet of paper, a few felt-tip pens and an idea. I don't always know where the drawing is going to lead me and I prefer it that way. This element of the unknown stops creation from becoming mechanical and always leaves room for surprise.

Original artworks and art prints

Tenzin Tsémé's original works are handmade on paper and offered directly on this website subjet to availability. Each entry details the format, technique and characteristics of the work. Some illustrations are also professionally scanned in high definition to be offered as fine art prints. These are available via ArtMajeur.

The original thus remains a unique piece, created and signed by hand, whilst the print edition allows the work to be enjoyed in the form of a high-quality reproduction.

Customised illustrations to bring a place to life

I also create personalised illustrations from your photographs. A family home, a street, a village, a town or a place associated with a memory can become the starting point for a work of art. I'm not looking to simply reproduce the photograph. I observe what makes up the identity of the place, then I reinterpret it with my own graphic language.

Ultimately, this approach is in line with that of my imaginary cities: start wit a real building, preserve what makes it unique and have it tell a new story. Details on requests and the process are provided on the Custom illustrations.

Continuing to build worlds

Today, illustration plays a central role in my work. My career path, however, has taken me through painting, sculpture and writing, and each of these practices continues to influence my way of drawing.

My illustrations reflect a love of colour discovered through painting, an awareness of volume developed through sculpture, a desire for storytelling born from writing, and a long-standing fascination with travel, houses and architecture.

I’m not trying to work out exactly what my next cities will look like. I prefer to start with a few sketches once I’ve chosen the region of the world, then select an initial architectural style and let my imagination do the rest.

This is probably what best defines my work today: building, house after house, places that do not exist on any map, but feel almost real enough to step into.