Long Story Short:
Commissioned identity for a minimal techno collective.
It was late summer. He had stars in his eyes. Gregory. The guy I had met walking through the forest. We were in my backyard, and I was enraptured by his vision.
It was going to be a human experience. A techno collective orbiting around transcendental values: an obsession for quality & craftsmanship, radical authenticity and aesthetic purity.
I was hooked. Also, I knew I couldn’t whip out a vector logo. This project, this guy… they were different.
I went up to my studio (at the time that was my parents’ top floor, which I had almost completely requisitioned — thanks Mom) and went straight for the black paint. It was automatic, I hadn’t given it much thought. I just knew it had to be paint.
Unsatisfied with the initial brushstrokes, I put my fingertips to work, pushing the paint intuitively. Not enough. More spontaneous.
What is dancing? Organic rhythm, movement, pleasure.
I opened the centre drawer of the ancient wooden desk — it was full of doodads, and surely had the tool I needed.
Ball of elastics: NO.
Floppy disk: NO.
The thimble peon from ‘Monopoly’: YES, perfect.
I rolled some texture into the letters, then stepped back, scanned the letters at 1200dpi, inverted the colours and zoomed in.
The details made me shiver. It had been the perfect mix of intention & surrendering to chance operations.
Later that week, the smile on Greg’s face spoke for itself.
Indie Alt-Rock Show
Long Story Short:
Organized a show & made a poster for it. Seeking $$$ for a student exhibition.
We had 3 months to make this happen.
To track the funding for the graphic design exhibition, we had posted a paper thermometer on the wall.
The temperature at the time:
Summer in Antarctica.
Cupcakes & t-shirts weren’t cutting it; it was time to pull out the big guns: alt-rock concert. My band was always up for it. That was one in the bag. I called up some friends from other bands:
“Yada yada yada exposure…”
*Poorly concealed groan*
“…and free beer”
“Sign me up”
I had an internal dialogue, riffing on the headliner’s name: Bad Captain.
“Where do alt-rock and bad captains intersect? They both get lost. That’s good.”
“Lost at sea… Too obvious. Lost on land… Kind of funny. A map. Let’s scan a map of the wilderness.”
“How do we make that map musical? Repetition. Topographic maps have repeating lines. That'll do. Plus, it's eye-candy.”
Naturally, I chose a masochistically time-consuming objective: 60 hand-printed posters, silkscreened with 4 layers of ink each.
1 coerced assistant, 7 coffees & a junior-pack of staples later, the work was on the walls. The show pulled in heaps for the exhibition. High-fives all around.