"You start with some metal, and end with a product that works”
In our 'Maakkracht' - Creative Power - series, Anne Berg talks about choosing the Leiden Instrument Makers School (LiS).
Published on January 26, 2026
Bart, co-founder of Media52 and Professor of Journalism oversees IO+, events, and Laio. A journalist at heart, he keeps writing as many stories as possible.
With the podcast series Maakkracht ('Creative Power'), the Leiden Instrument Makers School (LiS) offers insight into what it takes to get started in the high-tech manufacturing industry. The highlights of these conversations are captured in this accompanying article series.
Sometimes choosing a study programme is the result of years of careful planning. Sometimes it happens in a single summer, sparked by restlessness, curiosity, and an unexpected visit to a hospital instrument workshop. For Anne Berg, a fourth-year student at the Leiden Instrument Makers School, it was exactly that. She started out with a conviction (“I’m going to university”), ended up studying Human Movement Sciences in Groningen, and discovered something was missing: her hands. “At university, I realised how much I wanted to do something with my hands. It made me restless.”
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From university to the workshop
Anne’s route is anything but straightforward. HAVO, then VWO, with the obvious next step being university. In Groningen, she began Human Movement Sciences, an interesting programme in itself, but not the right fit for her at that moment. The penny dropped at the UMCG, where she one day stepped into the instrument-making workshop.
That visit wasn’t entirely random. “A friend’s father once told me I should do something with instrument making.” Anne laughed at first and also misunderstood what he meant. She thought of musical instruments. “Then I found out what it actually was and thought: ah, this is actually pretty interesting.”
She looked around, saw up close how technology and practical work come together there, and got excited. Not long after came conversations, a trial day, and a decision she almost describes in passing: “It’s basically a coincidence.”
One school, students from everywhere
In the Netherlands, there is only one vocational programme for instrument makers: LiS in Leiden. And you can tell. Unlike many MBO programmes, the intake isn’t purely regional. Anne remembers classmates from Friesland, as well as from Lelystad and Almere. “People really travel to this programme. That means you also get highly motivated students.”
What she found when she joined in October, a month after the regular start, was something you don’t immediately expect from a technical programme: warmth. “It sounds silly, but it’s just really cosy. It’s a small programme, everyone is approachable, and the classes are very mixed.”
In her group, the youngest student was 15, the oldest - “that’s Bart, who you spoke to earlier” - was around 30. VMBO, HAVO, VWO: everything together. “Because it was such a mix, it was also really fun.”
Hands, head, and prosthetics
Anne didn’t arrive with a fully mapped-out plan. But she did bring two clear instincts: she wanted to make things, and she felt drawn to medical technology. Prosthetics have fascinated her for years: how people move, and what happens when that movement is limited. It’s a line that runs back to her studies in Groningen, but here it suddenly becomes tangible.
She also stresses that her ambition has taken shape along the way. “I didn’t have as clear a picture as some other people. During the program, I keep thinking more and more: Oh, now I find this interesting. This connects well.” Maybe that’s exactly what the programme does: not only teach a craft, but make a direction visible.
Glassblowing to gain depth
Anne chose something not many students do: she specialised in glassblowing, an additional track that usually adds about a year to the programme. It didn’t come from competitiveness, but from a practical decision: the school saw room to deepen her learning. “They thought along with me: how can we take this further? A lot of theory came relatively easily to me, so I could use that time for glassblowing.”
That’s how she worked towards a full glassblowing diploma alongside her metalworking diploma. “You’re basically double certified.” In practice, it makes you more versatile, and it also says something about LiS: if you’re motivated, you’re given space. Especially in the new education model, Anne says, where students can shape their own route more. “But that does require assertiveness and extra motivation. Then a lot is possible.”
Ten weeks in Calgary
Her most adventurous chapter: a ten-week glassblowing internship at the University of Calgary in Canada. Through the school’s network - a glassblower there had also graduated from LiS - Anne was able to work in a university glassblowing workshop, something that still exists in some universities, just as it does in the Netherlands.
The work was different from Leiden. In the Netherlands, you often work with a torch and manipulate the glass by hand. In Canada, she used glass lathes: “The same idea as a metal lathe, but with glass. You clamp it in place and work it with a torch around it.”
She had to learn how to look again. “You still have to watch the material itself, the glass. But because the glass is being rotated for you, you have a lot of time to really observe it. I enjoyed that.” And something else stuck with her too: the contagious passion of her supervisor. “That was really motivating.”
The best part of making
If Anne wants to challenge one stubborn image, it’s the idea that technology means “dirty hands” and “smelly rooms.” She says it without romanticising it, but with conviction: the beauty is making something that wasn’t there before. “You start in the morning, and there’s nothing yet. And if you’re lucky, you end the afternoon, and you’ve made something.”
She describes what a workshop day can look like: starting at eight, picking up the technical drawings, working at the lathe or milling machine, and making parts. In projects, you sometimes design your own work too—especially later in the programme—and then you literally build what you’ve drawn yourself. “That’s really awesome.”
But the real moment comes during assembly. “When you have all your parts and you put it together… and it works. You see it take shape. You see that it works. The idea behind it suddenly becomes real.” Her favourite project? Surprisingly, her exam assignment. “I genuinely enjoyed my exam project. It was tight and clear, there was time pressure, and I knew exactly what I needed to do.”
Beta and gamma
In the meantime, Anne is looking beyond the classic route of instrument maker or designer. What intrigues her is the bridge between technology and people: the ethical and social side of making. “How do you communicate? When do you do what when you produce something? What are the consequences?”
She’s exploring programmes that combine beta and gamma disciplines: engineering with sociology and psychology. Not because she wants to leave the workshop, but because she misses that extra layer: more theoretical depth, more context. “I really like that I can do so much with my hands here. But sometimes I miss that deeper layer as well.”
At the same time, she is clear about the role of MBO education. “It’s important that MBO programmes remain MBO programmes, and don’t turn into ‘hidden HBO’.” Depth is possible—but it has to stay achievable for everyone.
Women in tech: “Just act normal”
Anne is nuanced about women in manufacturing. Yes, more women would be good. But not through the feeling that you’re there “to meet a quota.” “I want to be hired because they want me. Not because a women’s quota has to be met.”
She sees two extremes: extra barriers or extra attention that ends up excluding people in another way. Her wish is simple—and perhaps that’s why it lands: “That everyone ends up where they should be. Without limitations, without distinctions.” And then, with a smile, a sentence that could probably serve as a workshop motto: “We just need to keep acting normal.”
Come and see
If Anne has one piece of advice for people who are unsure, it’s not: “choose technology.” It’s: come and see. “You have a certain image in your head, but you only really see what the programme is like when you walk around here. Then you see what’s possible, what the atmosphere is like.” A trial day. A conversation with someone who has done it. Seeing the real work.
Because only then, she says, do you understand what she means by that simple but rare feeling: being able to point to something at the end of the day and say: I made that.
In other words, you start with a piece of metal. And you end with something that works. “Amazing, right?”