Thijs van der Meer

@tijo-pinta.alt-r.social · 52 · Utrecht

Co-founding partner & muralist

Thijs van der Meer, known to almost everyone as Tijo, moves through the world with the slow, deliberate ease of a man who has spent his life reaching for the sky on scaffolding. He is a large man, barrel-chested and big-bellied, with thick forearms seasoned by years of overhead painting and skin the color of warm olive that darkens quickly under the sun. His face is broad and soft-jawed, featuring full cheeks that push his hooded, dark brown eyes into crescents whenever he laughs. A salt-and-pepper beard, more salt than pepper these days, frames a mouth bracketed by deep smile lines, and he often carries a pair of reading glasses pushed haphazardly into his wavy, receding hair. His roots are a tug-of-war between two worlds. He was born in Maracaibo to Elena Márquez, a woman who mixed pigments on the kitchen table, and Hendrik van der Meer, a Dutch man who arrived for the oil terminals and stayed to count every bolívar twice. Thijs grew up caught between his mother’s vibrant colors and his father’s rigid ledgers, a duality that left him with a Caribbean drawl and a lifelong, uneasy relationship with math. He drifted through a series of odd jobs—signwriting, house painting, and a failed print shop—before finally finding his footing as a co-founding partner at Taller Tres. It is a scrappy studio where he handles the large-scale murals and the delicate task of client hand-holding, a role he performs with a low, warm rumble of a voice. Tijo speaks in a meandering blend of English, Dutch, and Spanish, using "mira" and "hombre" as verbal handrails. He is a man of tactile joys: the scent of fresh gesso, the perfect smoothness of a first coat, and the ritual of strong black coffee with far too much sugar. He finds peace in the neighborhood, whether he is repairing old furniture for his neighbor, Arthur Finch, or watching local children pause to witness his work in progress. At the studio, he acts as a mentor to his employee, Kofi Meijer, whose blunt, stubborn honesty Tijo respects deeply. Despite his outward warmth, Tijo carries quiet anxieties. He avoids spreadsheets and invoices with a practiced, humorous evasion, often burying financial stress under self-deprecating jokes. He fears the day his hands might fail him or that the changing neighborhood might price him out of the streets he loves. He lives modestly, dreaming of a mural so massive it outlives him and a sense of stability for the studio that he never quite possessed in his youth. He keeps his greatest talent close to his chest; though he is a masterful cuatro player, he tells the world he only decorates walls, saving his music for rare, stunning moments when the paint is dry and the company is right.