How Josh Cochran Turns Streets Into Storybooks

Josh Cochran doesn’t illustrate scenes so much as build them, like a chilled-out architect with a sense of humour and a crush on colour theory. His work has a way of pulling you in without asking. One minute you're admiring a wonky roofline, the next you're four floors deep in a narrative that includes a break-up, a rogue parrot, and someone grilling shrimp on a fire escape. His illustrations don’t shout. They murmur, gesture, and occasionally gossip. You don’t “view” them. You eavesdrop.

Born in Oregon, raised in Taiwan, and trained in Pasadena, Josh’s life has had just the right blend of structure and sunstroke to produce drawings that feel both emotionally warm and architecturally sound. He’s illustrated for The New York Times, The New Yorker, Apple, murals in several time zones, and one Grammy-nominated album that probably made your bookshelf jealous. His work shows up everywhere, even in dreams where you’re not quite sure who owns the house but everyone’s invited to brunch.

He lives (mostly) in Brooklyn, and I say “mostly” because his cityscapes suggest a man who’s been collecting balcony drama and bodega details like rare stamps. He metabolises the chaos of the borough like it’s breakfast - all overlapping chatter, cryptic signage, and tender awkwardness. It seeps into his lines, which always seem to know more than they’re letting on. There’s a story under the story, and it probably involves a neighbour with too many cats and a fantastic record collection.

What makes Josh’s work linger isn’t the detail, though there’s plenty to get lost in. It’s the tone. Everything feels lived-in but not overworked, as if he just happened to be sketching while the world unfolded around him. There’s humour, sure, but also empathy tucked between the lines. It’s a kind of visual side-eye that says, “Yes, the city’s weird. No, you’re not crazy.” His drawings don’t demand attention. They earn your trust, crack a quiet joke, and then leave you haunted by the weird little guy in the window you somehow didn’t notice until your fifth look.

Google mural photo by Charles Benton

I. CITY LIFE, STILL BREATHING

When Josh Cochran began illustrating, he gravitated toward dense, detail-driven cityscapes: layered skylines, packed sidewalks, scenes you could get lost in. "I used to equate good work with how much time and attention I put into a piece," he says. Over time, that shifted. Now, he finds meaning in the overlooked: a delivery person checking their phone, the soft light of a building reflected onto another. "I’m still interested in the energy of city life," he says, "but now I’m more drawn to the layer underneath the busyness."

His drawings often play with the tension between the mundane and the surreal. Think: a banana lying wide-eyed on the sidewalk or a rat napping in a Mets cap. "I like making realistic environments and inserting weird moments where it’s least expected." This subtle sleight-of-hand lets Cochran keep one foot in reality while leaving room for wonder.

II. TEACHABLE MOMENTS

Cochran teaches at SVA, and says working with students helps him stay creatively alert. "They’re bold in ways I forget. Their work has surprises. It’s good to be around people who are still figuring things out."

Explaining his own process to others has had its upside too. "It’s healthy to do deep dives on your own takes. I’m constantly reminded not to take shortcuts and to stick to the fundamentals when I feel lost."

III. STORYTELLING FOR TOUGH AUDIENCES

When it comes to illustrating for children, Cochran doesn’t take the job lightly. "Kids are a tough audience. They don’t fake it." He channels his inner third grader often, pushing past stiff sketches until something clicks. "Eventually I reach that pure joy in making, and then it starts to work."

He loves creating worlds that feel lived-in, that kids can revisit and keep discovering. "Children’s books are one of the last places where I can take my time and be more thoughtful. It’s a great space for making things by hand."

IV. TRIAL BY FIRE (AND IPAD)

Last year, Cochran covered the Trump trial in Manhattan as an illustrator. He didn’t have a press pass, but managed to get into the overflow room using an old New York Times ID. "I drew on my iPad and emailed drawings as I finished them. It felt super immediate."

He had to wake at 3am to queue, learned to dress more rumpled to blend in with reporters, and embraced looseness in his work. "It taught me how to keep the drawings fast but still readable, especially with likenesses."

V. COMIC FUTURES & COLOUR GUTS

Cochran’s multicultural background - Taiwan and California - informs everything. The density of Taipei, the lightness of SoCal: both show up in his palette. "Colour is intuitive for me. I mix and match until something clicks. Sometimes I use combinations I’d normally avoid, just to surprise myself."

He’s thinking about graphic novels, even though a voice in his head says, "not practical." That probably means he should do it. And when in doubt, he shows up and draws. "Eventually I warm up and something comes out. I repeat that process over and over."

As for what's next? More collage, self-authored stories, and maybe a new medium or two. "I feel lucky to have come up in the in-between time - both analog and digital. I think of it as a superpower."