The Art of Staying Grounded: A Weekend with Jean-Pierre Consuegra
There’s something deeply comforting about peeking into the lives of creatives, especially those who manage to stay grounded in a world that constantly demands their brilliance. Jean-Pierre Consuegra, the New York-based designer and founder of Somersault Records, is one such figure. His work—a unique blend of internet nostalgia and cutting-edge design—has graced collaborations with Clairo, Pigeons & Planes, and even The New York Times. But what’s truly fascinating is how he navigates his weekends, a time when most of us either overindulge or burn out. Personally, I think there’s a lesson here for all of us.
The Solitude of Creativity
One thing that immediately stands out is Jean-Pierre’s love for solitude. He mentions taking himself to the movies alone or grabbing a coffee—a ritual many creatives cherish but few openly admit to. What makes this particularly fascinating is how he balances this solitude with his professional life. Attending design talks at Pentagram After Hours, for instance, is a nod to his commitment to growth, even if it comes with the occasional panic attack (a detail that I find especially interesting, as it humanizes the often-glamorized life of a designer).
From my perspective, this duality—the need for both connection and isolation—is what fuels creativity. It’s a reminder that even the most successful designers are still navigating the same emotional landscapes as the rest of us. What this really suggests is that creativity isn’t just about output; it’s about finding harmony in the chaos.
The Power of Slow Mornings
Jean-Pierre’s reading habits are another window into his mindset. He admits he doesn’t read much, but when he does, it’s intentional. Tibor Kalman’s Perverse Optimist and James Ronkos & Manuela Press’ The Swamp are his go-to books for inspiration. What many people don’t realize is that these moments of slow reflection are often where the best ideas are born.
In a world that glorifies hustle culture, Jean-Pierre’s approach feels almost revolutionary. If you take a step back and think about it, the idea of slowing down to move forward is counterintuitive yet profoundly effective. This raises a deeper question: Are we sacrificing depth for speed in our own lives?
Food as a Form of Resistance
Let’s talk about La Cantine in Bushwick. Jean-Pierre’s love for this spot isn’t just about the food—though the rotating menu and weekly tiramisu flavors sound divine. It’s about the fact that La Cantine has managed to stay off the “TikTok foodie hellscape,” as he puts it. This is a detail that I find especially interesting because it speaks to a broader cultural trend: the tension between authenticity and virality.
In my opinion, places like La Cantine are becoming rare gems in a city where everything is curated for the camera. Jean-Pierre’s appreciation for this spot feels like a quiet act of resistance against the homogenization of culture. What this really suggests is that true value often lies in what remains undiscovered—or at least, unexploited.
The Escapism of Media
Jean-Pierre’s media choices are another layer to his personality. His obsession with Lost in Translation and Industry isn’t just about entertainment; it’s about escapism. Personally, I think there’s something deeply relatable about rewatching a favorite movie or show as a form of comfort. It’s like revisiting an old friend who always knows how to make you feel better.
His attempt to start a standing ovation at an Industry premiere—only to be met with silence—is both hilarious and poignant. What makes this particularly fascinating is how it highlights the gap between passion and reception. It’s a reminder that not everyone will share your enthusiasm, and that’s okay.
The Intersection of Design and Life
Finally, Jean-Pierre’s approach to furnishing his office and his music tastes reveal something about his philosophy. He’s drawn to custom pieces, like the desk from Think Later Studios, and eclectic music, from Feeble Little Horse to D.Silvestre. What many people don’t realize is that these choices aren’t just aesthetic; they’re deeply personal.
In my opinion, this is where design intersects with life. It’s not just about creating something visually appealing; it’s about creating something meaningful. If you take a step back and think about it, this is the essence of Jean-Pierre’s work—and his weekends.
Conclusion: The Art of Being Present
What I find most compelling about Jean-Pierre’s weekend is how it reflects his ability to stay present. Whether he’s designing for Olivia Rodrigo or enjoying a quiet morning with a book, there’s a sense of intentionality in everything he does. This raises a deeper question: How often are we truly present in our own lives?
Personally, I think Jean-Pierre’s weekend is a masterclass in balance—between work and rest, solitude and connection, tradition and innovation. It’s a reminder that the most meaningful moments are often the simplest ones. And in a world that’s constantly pulling us in a million directions, that’s a lesson worth holding onto.
