Jakarta-based designer and publisher Jordan Marzuki began his career in the fast-paced world of commercial studios before choosing a more reflective path. After studying in Basel, he returned home with a renewed interest in books and the slow, intentional processes behind them. Through Jordan, jordan Édition, his independent publishing platform, he collaborates with Indonesian artists to create culturally rooted, research-driven publications. His work is defined by patience, empathy, and a deep respect for history and place. “Every piece of work takes time,” he says. “And there’s really no excuse to rush it.”
Can you tell us a little about your first few steps in your career. Was there a moment or experience when you realised this was what you'd do as a career?
I started out working at a commercial design studio right after graduating from a design school in Jakarta. Back then, I honestly didn’t know what to expect from the industry. Everything moved super fast, and the focus was mostly on bold, sellable visuals for clients in real estate and entertainment. After some time, I started feeling pretty disconnected from the work and began questioning if this was really what I wanted to do.
Eventually, I decided to step away and continue my studies in Basel. The atmosphere there was totally different. It was all about exploring ideas, experimenting, and thinking more critically—something I didn’t even realize I had been missing. That’s also where I got into editorial design and became really drawn to books as a medium. In Basel, books were everywhere, used as creative platforms across all kinds of disciplines, from photography to typography.
Coming back to Jakarta, I started exploring publication as a primary medium where it eventually grew into Jordan, jordan Édition, an independent publishing platform that collaborates with Indonesian artists from different backgrounds that intertwines with history, culture, and anthropology. It’s a space to experiment with narrative, form, and design, while still treating the book as a living, functional object.
What lessons from your career have most shaped your style and approach?
Tell us about the core values or philosophies that guide your creative practice.
What needs to change, so emerging and under-represented creative professionals have more opportunity, are seen and heard?
This is a bit hard for me to say, but I want to focus on something that feels close to home, the country I live in, Indonesia. We’re a massive country, but our education system is deeply unequal, largely due to poor governance and ongoing corruption. And honestly, if general education is already in such a rough state, how can we expect design education to thrive?
Right now, most of the focus is still centered on just one or two islands. I get that true equality in education might be a utopian idea, but still… if the government can’t fix it directly, they should at least support small, nonprofit art and design initiatives that are trying to reach communities that are often left out. In a country of 285 million people, I truly believe that more emerging and underrepresented designers could come forward if we start addressing the issue at the root.
How important is it that creative professionals find their unique voice?
Looking ahead, what do you think are the key factors that will influence change for creative professionals?
Again, I want to answer this from the perspective of where I live. Being a creative here means you have to be more empathetic, more political. You can’t walk around feeling superior. Otherwise, we’re just “creative professionals” with no sense of humanness. What’s the point of achieving design perfection if the result ends up being hostile to actual people?
Funny enough, we have this graphic design meme account that, probably without meaning to, has sort of become the unofficial design critic in the scene. And honestly, I think that’s one of the best things to happen here.
How much does your city influence your work?
I hope you’re not tired of my answers, but living in Jakarta... where things often feel chaotic, insensitive, disorganized, and lacking in civic sense, has actually shaped the direction of my creative work. It pushes me to focus on sensitivity, and to create work that tries, in its own way, to bring back a sense of humanity here.
In the end, the city pushes us to solve the problems ourselves.
How much does your culture influence your work?
As a kid, I grew up on a lot of trashy American TV shows and movies. Later on, I also went through a design education shaped by Western ideals. But in practice, especially through my collaborations with Indonesian artists and their deep research into local cultures, I started to realize just how much I didn’t know. It gave me a serious case of impostor syndrome!
My work at Jordan, jordan Édition has become a learning process... an ongoing way for me to engage with parts of Indonesian culture I hadn’t really seen or understood before. Going back to the earlier question about ‘core values’, everything in my design work; color choices, type setting, image placement, covers, titles, comes from the research and reflection I do around each book’s cultural subject. It’s all part of figuring things out as I go.
Tell us some of your favourite, creative professionals and inspiring places in your city!
Designers I really look up to in the city include Hermawan Tanzil, a rare kind of graphic designer who deeply roots his practice in Indonesian culture, which is becoming harder to find these days. Then there’s Kendra Ahimsa, also known as Ardneks, an amazing and humble illustrator-slash-designer whose work is instantly recognizable in the music scene. And of course, Metta Setiandi, a creative force with a real passion for representing and preserving her own cultural identity.
Also, if you’re ever in Jakarta, you have to visit Glodok!