Psyche Organic's Changing the Game

March 17, 2023

Theophilos can be described in many ways. What stood out to me when I first met him— five years ago when I was still waitressing at Lucien— was his calm energy and the distinctive way he carries himself. We became friends after countless run-ins on Orchard Street that led to spontaneous coffee dates and in-depth conversations about our respective projects.

From publishing independent art books to curating rap cyphers and hosting Nice Size Sunday events, Theo is always coming up with new and exciting ways to bring people together. He’s not the kind of guy you can put into a box. Free-spirited and intentional, his mission has always been about community and working to support the well-being of others.

It came as no surprise when he told me he was moving to Copenhagen to start an olive oil company and learn more about sustainable farming practices, but I must admit I was a little bummed because I knew Orchard Street would never be the same. I had a chance to catch up with Theo to learn more about what he's doing now.

Text by Olivia Roper-Caldbeck
Photos by Clement Mogensen

Let's start by talking about the olive oil side of things. Can you explain the process and what goes into making a batch of cold pressed olive oil?

Basically, you have your farmer in Greece who is cultivating olive trees. These trees have been planted in the last 50 to 100 years. Some of them, in the last thousand years. The olive tree is extremely resilient and it doesn't need a lot of water. Then, you're making sure it's not getting contaminated with insects or pests that could kill it. Our olive oil is all organic, and that means anything that's happening in the cultivation process is non-chemical. Around November, you remove the olives from the trees by knocking them off with a long rake and they fall onto tarps. We take the bags of olives to the olive oil mill where they are washed and moved through a machine that takes out the pits and then they press the olives and you get the juice.

How involved are you in the process? Are you actually going to Greece and visiting the farm, or was that only a one time thing?

We are there every season for the harvest. I'm not the farmer in the fields all year taking care of the trees, but I'm there for several weeks every year in October and November making sure that the process is going smoothly and actually working with the farmers in the mill. As we start to scale, that will change in terms of my ability to actually just work only exclusively with one farmer, but we are there and we are a deep part of that process.

How did you go from being a book publisher living in New York City to owning an olive oil company in Copenhagen?

This opportunity was presented to me in February of 2020, at a time in my life when I was peaking as a publisher in regard to what I was doing with Paradigm. Then the pandemic happened and I was back in Ohio working on a photo book, taking care of myself and my mental health. I started googling people associated with the Japanese farmer Masanobu Fukuoka and that brought me to this Greek farmer. I bought a one-way ticket to Greece and started farming. He put me in touch with this olive oil farmer. When I finished my apprenticeship, I reached out to this farmer and went and found him and saw his production and what he was doing. I was captivated by his ideology and his mind around farming and production. I brought his oil to Denmark, introduced it to my business partner, and the rest is history. Now, I live in Copenhagen and have an olive oil store. I was open to the transition and was ready to take that next step into a different place of my life. I was publishing for almost 12 years and I was working in the arts and creating different communities and activations around Paradigm, but I saw this opportunity and I had to take it.

How are you creating a community in Copenhagen through this new venture?

There is a strong community in Copenhagen around Psyche. It's a lot smaller of a place than New York and there really isn't anything in the market like what we're doing. Having an olive company that speaks to all kinds of individuals and people, all races, all colors, all genders we are an inclusive company, that promotes health and wellness. It isn't really positioned in anything, but the education and sale of olive oil, getting people in the mind that the olive oil that they buy probably isn't what's being sold to them. We're trying to create a transparency in our supply chain on top of creating a community around what we're doing. It's a unique pocket, especially in a country that kind of needs that edge, if you will.

What is the connection between the olive oil production and distribution and the cafe you're also a partner in?

The physical cafe that we had last year was a temporary residency at the former Relæ, which was a Michelin star restaurant and is two doors down from our flagship store. That venture was brought to me by Mati Pichci, a food curator in Copenhagen who was working at Atelier September and before that, was staging at Noma. He was buying our olive oil and then he asked if I wanted to get involved. I knew it was an incredible play for marketing and for continuing to build the community. We had an amazing time doing it, and it really did activate the community in a much stronger way because it created a more open forum. The reason I'm in Milan now, is to find new ways for the oil and the cafe to reach wider communities through physical activations.

How do you intend to maintain the community if there's not a physical space?

We still have the store— Psyche Organic is an olive oil showroom/office. We actually have our one year anniversary coming up on March 18th. That's where the hub still is. Everything is still functioning out of that space. If you want to come find me or my partner or connect to the brand, you can come there as we still activate events there. Then, on top of that, when Psyche Organic or Psyche Café does an event, that's how the community continues to grow.

What other cities do you plan on expanding into?

New York and Los Angeles are both already a part of our community. I’m selling to Scarr’s Pizza in NYC and to a beautiful store in LA called Homesick Studios. These two places allow the brand to reach into communities in both cities. We plan on expanding into the rest of Scandinavia, Asia and northern Europe.

Besides the farming practices, what else makes Psyche Organic unique?

First off, our eco-friendly bag is totally unique to the olive oil industry. In the current state of the olive oil market, we are the only company selling in this bag. Then, from an aesthetic standpoint, the communities that we associate ourselves with, nobody has really gone into olive oil like a fashion brand would. Taking from my mentors and the people that I came up with and looking at how collabs work and how hype works, because that's where this thing gets really interesting is that I thought I was unique walking into a room saying, "Oh, hey. I'm a book publisher," or, "Hey, I'm a photographer or whatever." But I don't know. There's a lot of that. I walk into a room now and if someone says, "Hey, what do you do?" You say you import and export olive oil, it's a different conversation piece. That being said, just from the history that I have in design, photography, production, and creative direction, I'm applying all of this to olive oil and to scaling olive oil. That's what I would say makes it hyper unique.

What is the vision for the future of the brand? Is this what you see yourself doing for the rest of your life?

Yes and no. The vision for the future is to build a blueprint in one of the most corrupt food segments. Olive oil, from what I understand, is one of the most corrupt food industries in the game. Change the blueprint for the model and show people like, "Yo, you can create a transparent supply chain. You can actually sell people the product that they believe they are buying. You can deliver them taste. You can deliver them quality, and you can deliver them health." Right? It's built off of the principles that I learned from Yvon Chouinard at Patagonia through reading his books and following his company over the last decade. Taking that, changing the blueprint, scaling into larger markets, building an infrastructure that allows me to live my life and give back to the communities in a deeper financial way. Then, in the next ten to fifteen years, retire from the day-to-day business of Psyche Organic and build my own farm, grow food and create an art residency that's a little bit off the grid. That's my life plan, if you will.

In the past couple of years, you have made a lot of major life changes in your personal and professional life. What are some of the greatest challenges you've had to overcome?

For me, it's more about accepting certain reality points. First of all, accepting that now, Paradigm has to stop for me. It was my lifeblood for twelve years, really. I lived the brand. It was a deep part of my identity. To answer your question in the most straightforward way was my ego death from New York and from letting go of this thing that was so much of my personality and my character. I would walk around LES and you would see me out there so much, and your ego is tied up in walking into a restaurant and knowing the waitresses and girls looking at you a certain type of way, and you're walking in the streets and you see a friend of yours who's a rapper or a painter or whatever, and you have this kind of street love and you have this credibility and your ego is tied to this thing in New York City because that's what New York City cultivates. I worked my ass off to bring this ecosystem to life, and I feel very grateful to have been accepted by New York City. Having left it hurt because I was at the top of my game. I literally left right after I dropped the Adidas collab. It was a little bit difficult for me, to be honest, but I also knew that this was the right step because I was leaving something that, for me, had changed. New York City changed after the pandemic. What was happening in that upswing was really beautiful. I also feel very grateful to have been in a position where I was about to breakthrough in 2020. It just wasn't the case. Having made the decisions I made to go farm and get involved in this olive oil practice, the hardest thing for me was just leaving New York City and accepting that reality.

Is there a possibility of Paradigm and Psyche coexisting, or are you completely done with that chapter of your life?

Paradigm just released Adam Zhu's ‘Nice Daze’. We just released a book with my old friend, Sergej Vutuc. The book came out in Paris a few weeks ago. I have one more book coming out in LA with Jakob Hetzer this spring. Then, I have my final collection dropping in Osaka, Japan this fall. That wraps everything up with Paradigm and also allows the space to transition totally into Psyche Organic. Paradigm will always have this cult status thing—I'm not interested in selling it. I'm not interested in passing it on to anybody else. If you got to touch it and you got to see it and you got to be involved in any kind of way, you felt it and you know that it was real. I just feel grateful for that chapter because now I'm embodying this new thing and people are understanding that this is my new lifeblood.

Where is the product currently available for sale? Is it available online or just from specific retailers?

The olive oil is currently available at Scarr's in New York. It's also available at Homesick Studios in LA and then there will be more oil coming to North America in the next, let's say, three to six months. If you're in Denmark, you can buy it from our store. Right now we ship all over Europe so if you’re in any main bracket European country you can buy it online.

Before we wrap up, I want to say that in all the years I have known you, you have always been good at building a community around whatever it is you’re working on— whether it be publishing a book, producing a rap cypher, or designing a pair of sneakers. I'm sure that you'll be able to take this concept and bring it all over the globe.

Thank you. That's what I'm doing. It feels good because look, I don't think I'm going to change the world, but I know that the people who touch the oil are a part of the things we’re building and are deeply affected by it. It's super exciting and I feel very grateful to still have you part of this community. I hope you will come to Copenhagen and become an even bigger part of it.

Culture

The Club Is Coming to the Stage

We enter and make our way to what is approximately front left of the DJ booth, where we’re accustomed to dancing at clubs in New York. “So is this a techno club or a dance performance?” yells an uncertain participant in my boyfriend’s ear. He laughs, bouncing along to Ben UFO, and yells back, “It’s both!” The club has long been a hot topic in European contemporary dance but it is only now making its way into New York performance venues, largely through transatlantic tours. R.O.S.E. follows recent examples like Michele Rizzo’s HIGHER xtn. at MoMA PS1 (May 2024), (LA)HORDE’s Room with a View at NYU Skirball (October 2023), and Gisèle Vienne’s Crowd at BAM (October 2022).

Do these performances compromise the club’s spirit — a space idealized for its anonymity, dark lighting, and thundering music? The notion of the club as a utopian escape is admittedly just that — an ideal — because of how its intense conditions can create barriers to entry. Still, the club remains sacred for many, a place to forge connections and embrace an alternative state of being. Looking at how performances transfer this spirit to new settings reveals what aspects of the club are essential and those that aren’t.

Sharon Eyal, R.O.S.E. 2024. Photography by Stephanie Berger, courtesy of Park Avenue Armory.

Eyal’s dancers make their entrance. The lighting shifts from roving blue to yellow spotlights as Ben UFO’s tracks transition to more melodic beats. Clad in deconstructed lace Dior lingerie with dark red tears painted on their faces, the dancers move cautiously in a tightly maintained pack, slicing paths through the horde with hoof-like steps and jerky leg extensions. After around ten minutes of this controlled choreography, the dancers vanish as the lighting shifts back to blue and Ben UFO picks up his dubby beats. The club, as we knew it, resumes. This cycle of tightly executed movements and free-flowing club-goers repeats several times, each time emboldening the dancers to plunge further into the crowd.

Clubbing in a building once built for the U.S. Army National Guard on Manhattan’s Upper East Side turns out to be surprisingly successful — at least for the audience. What starts as an awkward, scattered group searching for their non existent seats gradually gels into an engaged, bouncing crowd that erupts in cheers each time the dancers enter and exit. Performance patrons who might never step foot in a club find themselves swept up in its potential for communion, moving in unison with fellow ticket holders. But it isn’t until the very end of R.O.S.E. that the dancers finally break free from Eyal’s choreography and join the fired-up audience in a brief moment of improvisatory movement with the music. By keeping her dancers at arm’s length, Eyal seems more interested in the club as a backdrop for her signature movement style than wholly as a space with meaningful stories to be told.

Michele Rizzo, HIGHER xtn. 2024. Photography by Cameron Kelly courtesy of MoMA PS1.

Back in May, I attended Wire Festival, a multiday electronic music event at Knockdown Center that had no shortage of organically united dancefloors. It attracted a crowd of seasoned ravers who were eager to celebrate the start of spring as they danced alongside DJs who played well into the daylight. I left Wire in an afternoon daze to see Michele Rizzo’s HIGHER xtn. at MoMA PS1. My sleepless euphoria only deepened as the performance unfolded, starting with a lone dancer who looked plucked out of the festival.

The dancer, dressed in sneakers, baggy jeans, and a tight tank top, shuffled slowly into the gallery, perfectly in sync with the looping bars of an understated electronic melody. Soon, other dancers, clad in the same staple rave uniform, joined him — each having traveled from Europe for the U.S. museum debut of HIGHER xtn., which premiered at the Stedelijk in Amsterdam in 2018 and quickly became a fixture at kunsthalles and festivals across the continent. As the score’s tempo climbed, the choreography locked into a 16-count sequence, which the dancers executed with precise synchrony. They remained intensely focused, never making eye contact with each other, as they sought release in the endless repetition of synthesized beats. Once the dancers reached their limit, they stopped the sequence and exited the gallery, one by one.

HIGHER xtn. used the focused daylight of the gallery to highlight the meditative release found in the repetitive movements that dominate dark dancefloors. The performance’s restraint brought more consistency and intentionality than Eyal’s all-encompassing club construction in R.O.S.E. Yet both performances offer enticing entry points into club culture for those who may not frequent raves. Rizzo’s ecstatic, hypnotic repetitions reveal how the club can mirror other meditative practices, while Eyal’s interpolation of performance and clubbing helped hesitant audience members blossom by the end. Still, both works overlook one of the most underappreciated aspects of clubbing — its potential for individual expression. HIGHER xtn.’s pristine uniformity especially risks promoting the outdated techno trope that there’s a “right” way to dance to electronic music.

Maybe this shortcoming is, in fact, a benefit. For habitual ravers jaded by one too many sunrise sets, it’s a reminder to return to the club with more intention. If you pause and peer through the darkness, you’ll see hundreds of people moving to the same beat, each with their own subtle variations. This collective choreography is a ready-made spectacle that doesn’t need validation in a theater or museum. And when the music shifts slightly, you can watch the ripple effect sweep through the crowd while feeling the new beat in your body. Maybe this small bit of magic is best left on the dance floor.

Culture

Real Slick, Jack: Psyche Organic Arrives in New York

Shop Psyche Organic at Happier Grocery and Dimes. Coming soon to @citarellagourmetmarket @unionmarket @gourmetgarage @deciccos @fairwaymarket plus many more.

Culture

Porsche SCOPES Brings Art, Music, and Design to Toronto

The festival was a full immersion into Toronto’s dynamic creative energy. Day one set the tone with DJ collective Living Room, followed by an experimental performance by Claire Rousay that captivated the crowd. Jewelry designer Steff Eleoff unveiled her Porsche Taycan 4S art car installation—a bold fusion of automotive and wearable art inspired by her Sedona ring—while OVO Sound’s Naomi Sharon and DVSN wrapped up the night with powerful, genre-defying performances.

We witnessed SCOPES Toronto bridging underground and mainstream with day two’s lineup. DJ Korea Town Acid’s set paved the way for Angelphroot and Dameer’s debut of BASSMATI, a track blending South Asian influences with bass-driven sounds. Chippy Nonstop’s return to Toronto and Richie Hawtin’s extended set were milestones of the evening, proving that the city’s underground scene has a global resonance.

The final day featured standout performances from local pianist Harrison, Indigenous artist Tia Wood, and hip-hop visionary Sean Leon, who elevated his set with a live choir. Moonshine Collective’s film and musical performance explored themes of African utopia, showcasing art’s power to bridge culture and technology. Rising Toronto star SadBoi, who paused her tour to perform at SCOPES, further underscored the festival’s commitment to nurturing local talent.

Throughout the weekend, we experienced installations from artists like Mitsu Mitsu and culinary creations from Bar Mordecai, capturing the multifaceted creativity Porsche SCOPES brought to Toronto. This milestone 10th edition, open to all, allowed Toronto’s vibrant arts scene to thrive, underscoring SCOPES’ mission to celebrate local talent while connecting it to a global audience.

office had the chance to connect with rising star SadBoi ahead of the event. In our conversation, she shared insights into her creative journey and reflected on what performing and growing up in Toronto means to her and her work.

How are you, and where are you at right now? You told me you were traveling.

Um, I’m good, I’m feeling really good right now. I’m traveling back to Salt Lake City. I had a show yesterday in Seattle. I’m on tour right now with Coco and Claire.

How is touring life treating you? Do you like it?

I love being on the road. To be honest, I feel like I don’t know—like I’ve had good experiences and bad ones—but this time it’s really fun, especially with the people I’m surrounded by. It’s also the longest tour I’ve been on; I have about four more weeks to go. I’m trying not to think about how many days I have left.

Do you feel homesick?

Yes, because when I start thinking about how many days are left, I start to miss my dogs. I’ve just been trying to stay in the moment—I don’t even know what day of the week it is, to be honest with you.

Oh, sweet! What are your dogs’ names?

Jillian and Winston. I know, they’re crazy names.

You’ll be performing at SCOPES in Toronto, which is where you grew up. Do you feel like the crowd is different when you perform in Toronto compared to other cities?

Yes, I mean, Toronto just feels different because it’s home. Every time I come back to perform, something in my career has changed. The last time I performed in Toronto, people just wanted to have a good time, and I’m excited to perform back home again to see everyone’s reactions. I know it’s going to be different from the last time. It’s exciting to see your own growth. Toronto is a tough crowd, though. If we’re with you, we’re really with you.

So, they’re super picky? You have to gain their respect, or what is it?

I think Toronto people are in their own world, but when something really connects with them, they’ll lose themselves in the moment. But it takes something to bring them out of that. Toronto crowds are tough because even if they like you, they won’t show it outright until they’re really vibing with you.

It’s like a vibe check, right?

Exactly. They’ll enjoy your performance, but it’s hard to explain. When people visit Toronto, they often say, “Oh, you guys are so nice,” and I’m like, “I don’t think we’re that nice, we’re just polite.” Like, you can walk down the street, and no one will say anything, but it’s just our mannerisms.

You mentioned Toronto can have a moody energy, especially at night, and that the underground night scene there really inspires you. Can you talk more about what makes Toronto's nightlife so influential for you?

Absolutely, Toronto has this unique energy that comes alive at night. Similar to New York, there are the popular clubs everyone knows, but you need to find your niche—the people who know where the real parties are. I remember going to raves in high school yards, sneaking in because I wasn’t old enough. Events like Baby, Jerk!, and Yes Yes Y’all were pivotal, exposing me to DJs blending dancehall with EDM—something I hadn’t seen before. Toronto nightlife is moody and intense, but when everyone’s out, it’s like the whole city is alive.