How did the poster medium begin and how? When Xenu, ruler of the galactic confederacy first brought humans to this earth he also brought with him something called “posters” along with “beer” and “the beach towel.” These basic elements were used as recruitment tools to convince humans to stay and populate the earth. And they’ve been here ever since. Just ask Beck.

 

 

What qualities do you value in your work, what do you strive to create - in terms of rock posters / In terms of art prints? I don’t know. It’s pretty selfish. The posters we create are mostly clientless (no other input except each other and the music) and are more times than not for bands we like so to put it simply, we just make something we like, that we think the band would like, and other fans of the band would like. So many cyclical arguments have been fueled by people debating what a poster is supposed to be. Art? Design? I think people are scared to admit that posters are really just whatever you think is cool and communicates effectively (you can define “effective” yourself.) The art prints are just like the posters except we don’t have to make them to promote our own ideas instead of somebody else’s.

 

 

Explain the role of music in your work. Is it a market or a creative catalyst? From our experience there’s little money anywhere in the music industry for a designer. Most any designer would cream his or her jeans to do more music design so labels/bands/promoters rarely have to pay anyone much to do work for them. Which is what spawns the process of selling posters for yourself, it’s one of the few ways that we can make some money in the industry. That being said, we do have some larger clients, the band Cake for example, that have been return clients that we’ve worked with for years and have built a strong business relationship with. And yes, we like music. We listen to it a lot. We’re listening to music RIGHT NOW!

 

 

How important is typography to you all and what is your level of interest in this subject matter? We both love typography and do consider it very “important to us” but our relationship with it is more emotional than academic. Some people serious about typography would think that you need to have some fucking studied background on the history of every typeface before you use but neither of us really care. We tend toward “classic” mid-century typefaces mostly because that’s what inspires us. The formatting, the style, the shapes. We like to experiment within those bounds but neither of us cares about a lengthy dissection on the history of “News Gothic Extra Condensed.”

 

 

Tell us about your worst job ever. Any horrible job that we could think of is going to sound like we’re whiny little crybabies because in essence they would come down to “they watered down our vision!” or “they didn’t understand our creative process” or “we went through SOOOooo many revisions!” while out there in the rest of the world there are designers right now that are dealing with clients that may be verbally abusive ego-maniacal CEOs with no respect or desire to understand graphic design or are losing all confidence in their own personal identity because they’ve found themselves in a scenario of having to compromise their morals in order to make ends meet. We’ve had those projects before at previous jobs, and we’ve seen and heard about similar jobs at other studios. I like to believe that because we’re picky on jobs we choose and can choose to deny work since we’re such a small studio we have saved ourselves from some of these legendary gut-wrenching soul-sucking jobs. Or maybe we’ve just gotten lucky so far….

 

 

Appropriation, how do you feel about it? ”To design is to communicate clearly by whatever means you can control or master.” - Milton Glaser

 

 

There are a lot more of your art prints as of late, Is there an intentional push in this area? What are your long term goals? Little at Aesthetic Apparatus is planned or intentional and we generally don’t have long term goals. But, for example, the DOOMDRIPS series we’ve been doing has been well received and it’s fun to do so the decision to make more is an easy one. Also knowing that often times people will buy posters simply for the design — not caring about the band — is another thing that pushes us to do art prints.

 

 

Do you have ideas or ambitions to create work beyond the realm of posters? We’re not sure if by “beyond posters” you mean other graphic design or by “beyond posters” you mean starting a recording studio or something but…we’ve always done design work beyond the realm of posters. Logos, packaging…you know, the things design studios are supposed to do. Our poster work is a great way to promote ourselves as designers (when people see a well designed poster it’s easy for them to see how that same design sense can be applied to a variety of projects) and it’s possible that posters may, in the future, someday be a great way to promote ourselves otherwise. Who knows.

 

 

Define Scream Printing for our readers. It’s been long understood that there is a direct correlation between the chemical reactions in water and the human voice. We use this research to further our goals of studying the water-based inks we print our posters with and creating the best poster we can. Through trial and error we’ve discovered that the human scream creates a wavelength that strengthens the bond of the cells in the pigment to the water in the ink. The ink will thusly lay flatter on the page, the paper will warp less and the ink will be generally more manageable. We’ve also discovered that whenever Danzig’s “Mother” is played the ink reacts in the opposite manner. A whispering voice also emanates from the ink that seems to say “Zule.

 

 

Have you ever shopped for a reptile? Reptile? No. Reading glasses FOR a reptile? Yes.

 

 

What are you most scared of? Floating wolverines, magic carpets, urine festivals and taco harnesses.

 

 

Do you collect anything? Dust! And china dolls.

 

 

About Aesthetic Apparatus

Often considered Minneapolis’ best totally unknown design super team, Aesthetic Apparatus was founded around 1999 in Madison, Wisconsin by Dan Ibarra and Michael Byzewski as a fun side project from their ‘real’ jobs. Over the years their limited edition, screen printed concert posters have secretly snuck into the hearts and minds of a small, rather silent group of socially awkward music and design nerds. Now, Aesthetic Apparatus is a full time, full-fledged, insanely unstoppable, and occasionally award winning design mega-studio. They will break your heart and drink your blood.

How influential was your start as an intern for M&Co [Tibor Kalman's studio] in terms of a developing conscience in your art? What else in your background fostered your thoughtful sensibilities? In terms of developing a “conscience” M&Co wasn’t as key as being a student of Hans Haacke and being exposed to a lot of socially engaged art while at Cooper Union. Everything from the Situationists, to Act Up (AIDS activist collective) which was very active at the time, and Gran Fury - the graphic arm of Act Up. Also a collective known as Group Material - many more. All these people were trying to find a way to make work that was integrated into a social setting, a public conversation and not stuck in the “other world” of gallery/museum art. They were also trying to find a way past object orientated art, past traditional understandings of beauty which are always tied to the wants and needs of cultural power holders. This was and still is central to what I’m trying to do. While I only took one design class, I went into that world trying to find a way out of the art world, and a way to communicate to more than the converted.

 

 

You work in different media across all components of a project; can you talk about how film, illustration, photography, et al. happen and function together? I really just think of myself as a filmmaker and graphic artist; essentially stuff you experience in time (film), and stuff that is out of time (graphics/drawing/art/whateveryouwanttocallit) - those are the real categories for me. For me they are not so different because I am working with the same issues, or concerns or problems in all these different forms. Ultimately I’m more interested in the content, in what the visuals are about - so I never paid so much attention to what “media” or “profession” I was working in. I think most of those categories are just boxes our culture created, “careers” really, but they don’t necessarily relate to an individual’s path. I develop all my ideas in the same notebook and some ideas are better expressed in film, some in graphic work. I think my multi-medianess comes partly from being a kid who grew up in the 70’s watching TV, living in a multi-media world. Another part comes from being a student of conceptual art - which isn’t as interested in the visual form, or the craft, or the medium so much as the idea. Artists like Fischli and Weiss have been really influential to me in that respect: their work is all over the place, both in terms of style and “medium” but spiritually it’s all on one path.

 

 

Your career has snowballed in a pretty fortunate trajectory…How has the reception been of your new documentary [Does Your Soul Have A Cold?] and what other new activities are being realized? I can see where you’d say it’s “snowballed”, but from the inside it’s been a very bumpy, up and down, not so easy path. It’s hard to convince the world that you can be both a graphic artist and an artist and a filmmaker. I’ve had to build up a “career” and then start another one at least two times now. Then there are just all the struggles that I think most of my friends go through making work: a lot of self-doubt, not being as good as you want to be, not being seen the way you want to be, not being as in control as you want to be. I feel really lucky I got to make DYSHAC, my first feature length documentary, and I’m really pleased with how it came out. For me at least, I feel like I really grew with this project and was able to do the most socially engaged piece yet, and maybe even help people - but it has been very difficult to get it into festivals and get press for it. You never know what’s going to happen or how your work is going to go over, which is really hard to get used to. I haven’t at least.

 

 

With Humans and similar projects, the messages seem like subjective reflections that you want to share. What is your objective? Part of the Humans project is trying to inject really personal motifs and issues into “mass produced” items like posters and scarves and fabrics that would then become part of someone’s everyday life. I think by sharing something really personal about yourself, something that you are truly struggling with, can be generous, or helpful (”hey I worry about that too”) - not just self indulgent. It can hopefully create a space for more emotional, messy ideas of ourselves, or at least be a friend or ally in peoples’ own struggles to be more open, free, less bound by all the fears and rules in our history that we’ve all internalized into our innermost selves.

 

 

What are you currently most interested in? Any ideas, cultural luminaries, issues you want to point readers to? I’m really impressed by people that foster little self-made voluntary communities. Like this website (we blush). Like ANP magazine. Like Arthur magazine. Like the “Learning To Love You More” website. Like the “Manystuff” website or “Viewers like you”.

 

 

About Mike Mills

Mike Mills is a film and music video director and graphic designer. Originally from Berkeley, California, he graduated from Cooper Union in New York City and is now based in Silver Lake, Los Angeles. He has created videos for such musical acts as Moby, Yoko Ono and Air, and released the feature film Thumbsucker in 2005. He has also worked as a graphic designer on promotional material and album covers for such acts as Beastie Boys, Beck, Sonic Youth, and Ol’ Dirty Bastard. In addition he co-founded The Directors Bureau with Roman Coppola, and has created graphics for X-Girl, Marc Jacobs, and currently produces his own line of posters and fabrics called Humans by Mike Mills.

Tell us about the newly published Die Gestalten Verlag monograph, Non-Format Love Song. Kjell: Non-Format Love Song is a pretty comprehensive catalogue of all the significant projects we’ve worked on since we started Non-Format over seven years ago, but it’s also a showcase of work from those seven years that we haven’t shown anyone before now.

 

 

How has your attention to diverse disciplines (music packaging, editorial, advertising, art direction…) evolved? Jon: We started out with just a couple of music label clients which were generous enough to grant us pretty much complete creative freedom on their music packaging projects. Once we were offered the opportunity to art direct and redesign The Wire magazine we were able to set up Non-Format properly and then, later on, we got in a number of projects from multi-national clients via advertising agencies. We still work for one of our original record label clients to this day and use it as a springboard for creative expression and experimentation.

 

 

Do you seek out interesting projects or do clients come to you? Kjell: We’ve been very lucky. I don’t think we’ve ever actively gone out to find work, it’s always found a way of coming to us. I suspect our website does a lot of the legwork when it comes to self-promo, especially as there seem to be links to it all over the place. Word of mouth is a very powerful tool.

 

 

Do you have any qualms about working in the very corporate realm (as opposed to maybe more enriching cultural projects)? Kjell: Most of the corporate clients we’ve worked for have approached us because they want us to be creative. Their projects are more often than not just as enriching as projects for smaller companies so there are very rarely any qualms about working for the bigger firms. However, we did once turn down a job for a cigarette company. I’m sure it would have been creative and probably fairly lucrative work, but we just didn’t want to work for the tobacco industry. Generally speaking, the bigger the budget the more pressure we feel to perform as a creative team and the smaller the budget the more creative freedom we expect and, therefore, the more pressure we feel to perform as a creative team. We very rarely feel we can ease off the pressure to perform.

 

 

What are your roles in the partnership? Jon: We’re both Creative Directors, both have an equal stake in the business and we work together on as many of the projects as we possibly can. We often swap files and develop a project after either one of us has taken it as far as they feel they can. We’re not afraid to hand over our rough work for the other to continue working on which, so we’ve been led to believe, is not that common amongst designers.

 

 

How is the long-distance communication working out? Jon: Pretty well actually. We were expecting far more disruption than we’ve had so far. Maybe it’s too early to tell but we communicate almost every day via Skype and, when we’re chatting and working together it can be just like old times. I’m six hours behind London so Kjell and I usually have about four hours of overlap in our working days and we can cover a lot of ground in that time. It’s nice to start work in the mornings and see that some progress has been made while I’ve been sleeping and, likewise, I try to make sure there are new things to look at when Kjell starts work in London. We have high speed broadband to thank for making all this possible.

 

 

What is your process? When do you take something on as a duo versus inviting other illustrators in, etc? Kjell: It can depend on the deadline we’re working to but mostly it depends on the project. For example, the ongoing Lo Editions and LoAF projects have been established as platforms for other image makers to work on so we’re constantly looking for new people to collaborate with. We both of us enjoy discovering and working with new creative people so we’re always on the look out for a new element to add to the mix. Deanne Cheuk, for example, was someone we wanted to work with after seeing her wonderfully expressive typography in Tokion magazine. We started looking at every project that came in as a possible chance to collaborate with her and, eventually, the right one came along: Milky Globe. More recently we’ve worked with Loveworn and Klaus Haapaniemi. But so far we’ve never felt the need to employ anyone full-time. The only constant is Jon and me.

 

 

Some aesthetic approaches you originated seem to get appropriated. Do you see Non-Format as trendsetting, or do you just try to keep it real, doing something fresh and conceptual for each undertaking? Kjell: We certainly don’t set out to be trend setters but we both get very restless, so if we start seeing a lot of work around that’s similar to an approach we’ve been working on we tend to want to abandon that line of creative enquiry and find another. Having said that, I think we’ve slowed our pace of change down quite a bit compared to when we first started working together. I think we’ve matured as designers to some extent and will follow one visual direction for a lot longer now.

 

 

What are you doing/excited about now, and what’s next? Jon: We’re working on a couple of very large projects for some pretty heavyweight clients – we’re sworn to secrecy. We’re continuing the packaging work for LoAF (we’re excited that the first four releases won us a D&AD award a few months ago), we’ve just put the finishing touches to a few other music packaging projects for Lo Recordings. The fourth issue of Varoom (the journal of illustration and made images) is about to go on press… And, of course, we’re excited about the publication of Love Song. And what’s next? Who knows for sure?

 

 

About Non-Format

Non-Format is a creative team comprising Kjell Ekhorn (Norwegian) and Jon Forss (British). They work on a range of projects including art direction, design and illustration for music industry, arts & culture, fashion and advertising clients. They also art direct Varoom: the journal of illustration and made images. Non-Format is based in London, UK and Minneapolis, USA

Tell us a bit about your background, and the disciplines and media your work comprises. I was born in Missouri the son of Diane and Rick Perry in a typical suburban setting. My parents got divorced and then at the age of 14 we moved to Kansas where my back yard was miles of open land. I once went for a walk in my back yard and found a dead horse that had been killed by a wolf who ate its belly. No joke. We had apple trees and a pond. Horses in the back and cows across the street. Mowing the lawn took all day. I had very supportive parents and grandparents. My grandfather (who is a painter / claims to have made a flying car) when I was very young gave me a painting he made as a gift that I adored. As I got older and started looking at art history books, I came to realize that he had given me a Piccasso and called it his own. At the age of 14 he gave me a tackle box full of paints and that was it; from then on out I spent most of my time making paintings. I went to school at the Minneapolis College of Art and Design where I began my education as a painter but quickly realized that design was my path. I fell in love with design because it gave me the opportunity to do whatever was right for the idea I had. ie. if I wanted to use photography I used it. If something called for an illustration then that was the answer. Design seemed to be the medium that allowed me the most diversity. When I graduated I got a job as a designer at Urban Outfitters where I worked for the next 3 years. About a year ago I left Urban to start my own studio and that is where you find me today. I always try and incorporate a variety ideas and techniques into each and every project. I have a particular interest in typography, illustration and story telling. I think about color, texture and tactility.

 

 

What kind of messages do you infuse in your personal work beyond visual interest? I would say the messages are usually very simple and honest. I am a positive happy person and I wake up each day excited about the world and I try to infuse that into everything I make. I also try to have fun when I am making things and believe in laughter. If I can make myself or someone else smile I feel like I have succeeded. But in addition to that, process is very important. I have always believed in the generating of piles, and I look at the process of “making” like exercise. The more you exercise the stronger you become. Needless to say I do a lot of making for its own sake.I often times think about water and other natural elements but for the most part I try and just let things happen.

 

 

Would you share some artists, authors, movements, places, ideas that you’ve found influential? I think that a lot of my influences come from my peers that are doing exciting things. Talking about making and discussing process and ideas.I love all of the usual amazing things in the world: vintage illustration, american quilts, anything about typography, most outsider art, bodegas, accidents (for instance I was at this bar last night and it had the most beautiful tables and they were a complete accident), music, David Sedaris, diagrams on how the world works, kittens, flea markets and thrift stores. I don’t go to Kansas often enough but that place is amazing like the ocean.

 

 

Can you let us know what you’re working on currently? My first book titled Hand Job - A catalog of typography is about to land in stores. I am currently working on a few new books. A book about the use of patterns with Princeton Architectural Press. A book about the midwest that I am shopping around. I am designing a book for Chronicle Books. Planning the second issue of my magazine titled Untitled a… I have been art directing a new literary magazine called “The Crier” that I am really excited about; we are on our 3rd issue. Working on some records and illustrations. I am getting ready for a few art shows. Making tee shirts for myself and for clients. Giving a talk in Kentucky and in Minneapolis. I have an idea for a skate deck that I want to make. Art directing a fashion story for Brooklyn Industries. Just finished up something for Zune. A music video with some friends in LA. And some new typefaces that I will probably never finish.

 

 

 

About Mike Perry

Hello. My name is Michael Perry. I run a small design studio in Brooklyn, NY that has recently celebrated its 1 year aniversary. I am currently working on my second book with Princeton Architectural Press. My first book titled “Hand Job” is due out early fall 2007. I also recently started a magazine called Untitled a… I would love to talk to you about any ideas or projects that you might have coming up. Please feel free to contact me with questions, or for whatever your design, illustration, type, art direction, or art needs may be.

What is a typical work day/week like for you? I get up pretty early–around six in the morning–pretty much everyday. I’m definitely a morning-and-night person and not a big sleeper. I’m an art director at Goodby Silverstein (an ad agency in San Francisco) and I usually don’t get home from work until after 8:00. My job keeps me pretty busy, but the day to day stuff varies. Sometimes we spend quite a few days at the concepting stage, and other days are spent working on the minutia involved in bringing a project to life. My weekends I try to keep just for me and they’re usually spent doing personal projects, which is most of the stuff you see on my flickr stream.

 

 

Film or Digital? It depends on the job. I enjoy shooting both. I shoot with a Digital SLR (Canon 5D) for all work that involves motion. Throwing things or having someone jumping around requires shooting a lot of frames. The ability to get instant feedback is crucial for tweaking lights, experimenting with framing etc. For most of the portrait work I do, I’ll shoot film. I have an old Hasselblad, medium format camera. The Hasselblad is a little tank and makes a very loud thumping noise when you press the shutter. I love it. Focusing, metering and winding the film is all done manually so it slows you down but it really forces you to think about every frame.

 

 

The majority of your work focuses on a figure and their environment. Does the environment reflect upon that person’s personality in any sort of way? No, most of the time photos are inspired by images from art, movies, TV, magazines and advertising. I have a notebook filled with descriptions of possible images, things that i would like to try at some point. A specific lighting set up or scenario. Then when I find someone to shoot, i will refer back to my notes and go from there.

 

 

Do you know your subjects fairly well before photographing them? Some of them. I actually prefer to shoot people I don’t know because to me it’s easier to make them look whatever way I want to without having any pre-conceived idea of who they are.

 

 

 

What’s your master plan for 2007? I am trying to bring my personal work and professional work closer together this year. I also have been collaborating with two close friends, Jimmy Soat and Chris Ro- both of them designers. There is a fair amount of work we’ve accumulated over the last months and we are in the process of figuring out how to release it in the months to come.

 

 

Have you taken any of your ideas to video yet and if so do you have any examples? I haven’t yet. I am definitely interested but for the moment photography is a medium I am still exploring.

 

 

For images like Soat Collab (expsoat01/may18,2006), how many takes are involved to get what you want? Hundreds, in the case of the image you are referring, we knew we wanted some sort particles flying around but didn’t really have the final image too defined in our mind. With some of the collaboration work the process is quite organic, it is about getting out there and playing around with things, lighting, movement etc. Trying things out, succeeding at some, failing at others and having fun during the process.

 

 

What are your cat’s names? What do they eat? Cassius and Zoe, only cat food, which they proceed to puke out on the carpet on a regular basis.

 

 

What annoys you? I don’t think I can be objective about this so I asked Alex, who is my office mate to list things that I get annoyed by and these are it: His cats. Being idle/bored. That song “Crazy” by Gnarls Barkley. People who aren’t organized. People who take him too seriously and don’t get that he’s just being a smart ass. People who nag.

 

 

Rock or Country? Neither. Minimal techno, the slow dark ambient stuff. And occasionally the loud noisy stuff. It drives everyone around me nuts…

 

 

Have you ever shopped for reptiles? Not to keep as a pet, but I tried snake soup once.

 

 

About Jose Luis Martinez

Born in Mexico City 29 (as of 2007) years ago. Lives in San Francisco California. Earns a living as an Art Director in advertising. Shoots medium format and digital. Is married and has two cats. Enjoys Minimal Techno.

How has the response been to the new ‘Sessions’ book and is there anything more you want to tell us about it? The response has been much greater than expected. I’ve had to order more books, and it seems to have hit a chord with designers who want another perspective of the processes involved in collaborating, and especially commercial projects, such as with MTV or with overseas artists. There are also essays on the pitfalls of t-shirt production, and an essay on the collaborative process. The DVD also has a lot of toy templates by various toy producers, for designers to play around with to create their own 3D toy. Plus a poster and stickers, so the feedback has been that it’s a very dense and complete package.

 

People have commented on the amount of work involved in producing it, and co-producer Megan Mair and I are proud of that, because I believe a design book should be a lot more than just a series of seductive graphics. Those books leave me feeling a bit hollow, like my eyes have just eaten fast food. I think substance is important in a design book, and lots of essays and interviews. And, of course, seductive images. ‘Jeremyville Sessions’ has 304 pages of all of this, plus a DVD, fold out poster, and die cut stickers.

 

I think a successful design book should be dense enough to be revisited for years, not just consumed in one sitting, but something you can get more and more out of with each reading, and one that instigates thought and discussion.

 

For those who want an overview of it, ‘Jeremyville Sessions’ is about the process of collaborations, with over 300 artists and companies, like Beck, Genevieve Gauckler, Geoff McFetridge, Baseman, Lego, MTV, Adidas, Jim Woodring, Bigfoot, Tristan Eaton, Biskup, Miss Van, Converse, Devilrobots, Deanne Cheuk, STRANGEco, many many more, plus many essays, articles and interviews.

 

 

You come across mainly as an illustrator, but also as a persistent networker and promoter of yourself and creativity in general… Has this affable attitude been an important factor in your success? I see myself as an artist and writer first. Then a producer of projects. An artist who also collaborates with lots of other artists. I try and be the first at something; for example I wrote and produced the first book in the world on designer toys called Vinyl Will Kill, published by IdN. I also created Sketchel with Megan Mair, the first customisable art bag project based on our own satchel bag design. We’ve collaborated with over 500 Sketchel artists so far, like Beck, Genevieve Gauckler, Miss Van, Baseman, Biskup, Furi Furi, Friends with you, STRANGEco, Bigfoot, Marc Atlan, Saiman Chow, Jaime Hayon, Tim Tsui, some of the best around.

 

If you’re from Sydney, Australia and want recognition on the world stage, you need to make yourself known, and go out and get it. No one came knocking on my door. But of course any successful artist has networked and self promoted to some extent to get there.

 

 

You are a very thoughtful person making somewhat rudimentary looking things… How do you see your style evolving? It’s taken me a long time to get it that rudimentary! There’s power in simplicity and paring back, as long as the message is maintained, the image has a soul, and possesses a unique style. I see my style as very much evolved; I remove lines in my mind until just the essence of the mood remains. I can put a few marks down on a page and to me they are instantly Jeremyville. It takes years to get it that sparse. I’ve worked hard at developing my own voice, which I guess is, yes, deceptively simple and restrained.

 

 

You often mention some more cerebral historical art movements and individuals… Do you see a connection between these and the kind of contemporary cartoonish stuff you’re involved in? I personally think a cartoon can be very cerebral. Something complex expressed as a haiku. I try and wrestle the big issues like loss, death, love, longing, in a few seemingly simple lines, that hopefully evoke feelings in the reader, and resonate on a deeper level. Cartoons are my shorthand, and my shortcut to the essence of an idea. Of course I produce a lot of other work too: murals, toys, large canvasses, clothing, Sketchels, animation, books, snowboards, many products; I also work in many mediums, and feel equally at home in them. Cartooning is just one instrument in my orchestra. I love exploring a medium I’ve never tried before.

 

I started cartooning at the Sydney Morning Herald, Australia’s leading newspaper, at the age of 19, while finishing my architecture degree. I don’t like the conventions of cartoons- I’ve invented my own style- for example I just did a comic story on Geoff McFetridge, and he drew me. Each frame of the comic reads like a scene from a film, and Geoff commented on that too. I think there can be power and great meaning behind what is at first just a humble cartoon, or a cartoon style.

 

That’s just some background. To get back to the main point of your question, I think the art movement of our time is not a stylistic one such as cubism or pop (which both essentially sprung from a particular geographical place and were championed by an art cognescenti), but rather, the new movement is international, happens mainly online, and is not owned by a few galleries. The new movement is collaboration. A project between 2 artists, between a company and an artist, between a publisher and a group of artists. It’s a conceptual movement which has seen the artist reclaim his or her freedom from the client or patron or gallery. The artist can now choose who they work with, how much money they can make. How many shows they have a year. Direct their own destiny. Shape the marketing of their career. Create products from their art. Dictate what in fact is art. Reach their audience online. The 20th century model of the artist as indentured servant in a gallery’s stable has been superseded, or at the least, relegated to a creative cul de sac.

 

We are in a creative revolution, and only some are aware of it. Who are some players in this new movement? KAWS. Murakami. Banksy. Gauckler. Mike Mills. Baseman. Fairey. Fafi. Barry McGee. Maya Hayuk. Kinsey. Michael Lau. James Jarvis. McFetridge. All artists who create within that nexus where the gallery meets the street, which meets collaborations and commercial projects. They are redefining the parameters of fine art, and of important art.

 

My book ‘Jeremyville Sessions’ is all about this collaboration process, seen from the context of the Jeremyville studio working on 300 collaborative projects over the last year or so. It looks at the redefinition of these parameters of art and creativity, and has an introductory essay about the collaboration movement.

 

 

Are you concerned with your contribution to the world, and what would you like it to be? Would you use your status to be more altruistic? The Jeremyville and DESIGN Lab studio contributes regularly to several charities, Jeans for Genes being a particular emphasis each year. We also donate our time and expertise to other charities who do great things for the community. I’m definitely a believer in giving back to the world. I also don’t drive a car, I ride a bicycle and walk. I think the fossil fuel industry has wreaked havoc on the natural world. Let’s start the electric car revolution! Let’s reinvent the whole notion of energy. It is achievable, and it can start with just one thought, in one person.

 

 

Even with the DESIGN Lab team in place, do you enjoy the business side of your lifestyle or does it infringe on the energy you can devote to being artistic? I love the business side. We’ve constructed a business engine to help us make projects happen. We have a great team which covers all areas of expertise needed for a successful business. The business side doesn’t really impact on my time to create, indeed, it helps me tackle a creative problem from a different perspective.

 

 

Your background includes an architecture degree, as well as film education… Since you already maneuver in so many different mediums, will these fields ever connect with Jeremyville? I believe the methodologies I learned in those fields help me daily. Architecture is all about an initial concept, tempered by a set of constraints, which finally results in the built form. You take into account various constraints, such as client input, budgets, other disciplines such as engineering, and tweak your idea to realise that built form. It can take a year or two of arduous work to unfold this process, and compared to that, my projects such as producing a book, are relatively simple.

 

So with that architectural education in mind, I always try and see a project, such as a book, from a linear perspective; that is, starting from the original notion of the final ‘built form’, but one which will be tempered by various factors along the way. It’s a daily exercise in problem solving, lateral thinking, and a series of small changes, while still maintaining that vision. The aim being to end up with something as true to the original idea as possible.

 

 

About Jeremyville

Jeremyville graduated from Sydney University with an architecture degree, began his art career by cartooning at the Sydney Morning Herald at age 19, and now designs toys, books, paints murals, designs his Jeremy clothing label, and runs his online store at www.jeremyville.com. He works with Neil Venkataramiah, co-director of the company, (a UTS Communications graduate) and Megan Mair, Associate Creative Director (Dip. Graphic Design from KVB.) Jeremyville and Megan Mair have produced the first book in the world on designer toys called Vinyl Will Kill!, published by IdN.

While changes in visual style, education, and practice evolved predictably in the past, some unexpected developments are affecting graphic design today. The profession many of us remember as bright and optimistic is now overwhelmingly introspective - permeated with anxiety, cynicism, and pseudo-intellectual debate.

 

Idealism and passion for creative work have been replaced by ego-driven striving for personal gain that inevitably leads to frustration. Compounding the problem for designers seeking personal and professional growth are production overcapacity, a crowded job market, and, most significantly, a shortage of meaningful work. These conditions have become such a part of life that we have to pause and reflect on what is going on right now.

 

 

Technology: hands off

Most designers are driven by creative ambition. Each will use his or her own talent differently, but ultimately every designer longs to create a unique, innovative visual product. Newcomers to the field, fresh from the academic studio experience, are often naïve about how a professional office functions. They assume their day will be about making designs, only to discover that much time is required for peripheral technical and administrative chores. They learn that instead of practicing their skills, the computer usurps them.

 

Today, tackling graphic design jobs is impossible without mastering a plethora of software products. Programs, most inelegantly designed to start with, require frequent upgrades, making it difficult for the designer to stay current. By the time the intricacies of a specific program becomes familiar, a new version replaces it. Mastering any program, in fact, mastering anything, is frustrating and time-consuming so this cycle of constant re-education diverts from more meaningful and satisfying work.

 

Electronic equipment has replaced the traditional tools of design expression: pencil, crayon, pen, and brush. Design has been “dematerialized”. The tactile qualities of materials such as trace- and colored- papers, boards and overlay film that often inspired ideas are no longer viable. For the designer who enjoys the sensuality of working with actual materials, the absence of touch, smell and even sound is disarming, as if part of the nervous system had been deactivated.

 

 

Devaluation: ready for landfill

Ideally, graphic communication used to be carefully planned and produced to achieve clear, realistic goals within a predictable amount of effort. The end product was respectable and used, then saved for a period of time. The means of design were limited to using type, photography, paper and printing to maximum effect. If everything went according to plan, the designer felt fulfilled and the client felt satisfied.

 

Today, many graphic designers struggle with overly ambitious, nebulous goals - often defined by committee - while at the same time finding their talents and products undervalued. For every decent piece of communication, a million horrendous pieces are produced. Digital design and printing, and easy access to inexpensive but excellent manufacturers overseas, have all contributed to reducing production costs. Graphic materials produced and distributed in such overwhelming quantities become a nuisance, and the critical consumer gets used to discarding ineffective communications instantly. The widespread attitude that design can be replaced quickly and cheaply has fostered negligence and waste.

 

Digital design furthers the problem by allowing instant variations, devaluing the carefully developed original and depriving the designer of a sense of authorship, recognition, and achievement. Witness how fast innovative designs are now bastardized and commercialized.

 

 

Isolation: so near yet so far

No designer can produce an effective solution without awareness of the assignment parameters and a familiarity with the client’s culture. Experiencing the client’s organization firsthand provides the designer with a sense of direction and empathy for all personalities involved. It also provides an opportunity to experience the world outside the studio.

 

Today, designers are tied to their computers for hours on end with little direct human interaction or contact. They produce work with a diminished sense of purpose and only scant understanding or sympathy for the client’s problems. Even though seemingly more “connected” to the world through the Internet, the designer is actually more personally isolated. Projects are sent back and forth electronically between the designer and the client with cryptic notes attached. Lacking physical presence, scale, and texture, designs seem disembodied, as if appearing from outer space untouched by the human hand, furthering a sense of disconnection.

 

Isolation, of course, doesn’t just affect graphic designers. We live in a world where personal isolation is becoming more the rule than the exception. Email conversations with colleagues half around the world seem no different than those with people nearby. We walk down the street oblivious to the immediate environment, isolated from surroundings by cell phone conversations or music wired into headsets. Everything seems overscaled - the cities we live in, the buildings and offices where we work in, the spaces for shopping and playing - reducing our sense of identity and reinforcing isolation.

 

 

Education: dumbing up

A classical design education used to integrate imagination, skills, knowledge, understanding and experience. Years of basic studies, search for personal interpretation, expansion of professional horizons through exposure to different specializations such as corporate identity, advertising, packaging and exhibit design were all typical steps. The knowledge and skills necessary for practice were clearly defined and understood. They were acquired by working with master teachers as well as by studying a small number of classic texts on design. Learning from books was an enjoyable and relaxing pastime that fostered a sense of shared value and community.

 

Modern technology has severed most connections to the past and put a new spin on education. We are operating in a strange hiatus, where traditional expertise is being replaced by constantly changing new standards. Digital media dissolved the boundaries of graphic design and altered the way skills are both learned and applied. The knowledge necessary to practice now has increased exponentially - so much that the “rules” are undefined. As a result, there are endless, contentious debates about what constitutes design education today.

 

Meanwhile, education has become experimentation, moving along free of ideologies and theories. “Good design” is no longer plausible, possibly the victim of political correctness or the zeal to eliminate boundaries at all costs. A multitude of visual approaches exists side by side, there for the taking. Baroque decoration is as accepted as bland modernism. Exposed to so many different styles, the young designer is robbed of a sense of direction, resulting in confusion.

 

Today designers who bother to look at books consume them by scanning rather than by carefully reading and reflecting on their content. Instead of relying on the theories and aesthetic principles that were the basis of visual communication for previous generations, designers derive bursts of inspiration from the Internet, magazines, film, video, music, and philosophy texts. The constantly changing landscape of popular culture does not provide a solid base for a career, making the designer insecure.

 

The more complex the design problem is, the wider the range of knowledge and skills necessary to solve it. From project to project the required specialized expertise and skills vary. We cannot hope to master them all. Today we need to be a print designer, tomorrow a web designer, the day after a wayfinding designer, and then an illustrator, etc. The idea of the designer as a Renaissance man no longer applies; there are too many competencies for any individual to attain. Inevitably, the designer’s role is becoming that of thinker, planner and coordinator of various specialist skills.

 

 

Identity theft: the disappearing genius

Brilliant visual ideas, outstanding artistic and technical skills, and the ability to present work convincingly used to be the hallmark of the great maverick graphic designer - a specie that has all but disappeared. Today’s highly competitive business environment is too complex for an individual designer to operate alone successfully. Designers instead collaborate in project teams on business strategies executed within budget and on schedule to produce projected results.

 

Any designer who is ill prepared or disinterested in the different skills required to function in today’s complex environment experiences insecurity and frustration. To function at a high level, the designer ideally should be conversant in marketing communication, business, economics, sociology, and psychology, and facile with writing and public speaking. In fact, most of the time a professional with outstanding communication skills edges out the visual designer. Furthermore, the computer fosters a dialectic approach. Every project soon evolves into a game between the designer and the client, who makes changes at a rapid pace without concern for visual consequences.

 

With the introduction of personal computers and graphics software in the 1980s, a new playing field was created. The domain of the professional designer, who used to be the expert in aesthetic and production questions, became accessible to virtually anyone interested in producing and disseminating graphic information. Technically proficient people without visual education increasingly take charge. In an age when speed of production is the overriding criteria for success, the graphic designer loses ground to the technical experts, succumbing to frustration.

 

In the 1970s and 80s many graphic designers were guided by the convictions that purpose and principles are more relevant than style; that individuality and passion are more important than conformity; that quality is superior to quantity, and that professional commitment and integrity are more important than the financial rewards.

 

It would be impossible to prescribe remedies to cure the various frustrations of graphic designers. The profession is too fragmented by educational, philosophical, economic, and generational gaps. Designers born into the computer age have a different perspective about today’s situation than those who have experienced profound technological change - and no one wants to turn the clock back anyway.

 

What we’re experiencing in graphic design goes hand-in-hand with other evidence of current societal decline: obsession with monetary and material values, craving for instant gratification, lack of manners, short attention span, foul language, etc. Graphic design will always continue to be produced in one form or another but no one can predict how future iterations will take shape. Human beings by nature are problem solvers so it is likely that today’s problems may spark tomorrow’s opportunities.

 

 

Copyright © 2007 Willi Kunz

 

 

About Willi Kunz

Willi Kunz practices graphic design in New York. He is the author of Typography: Macro- and Microaesthetics (1998) available in English, German, Spanish, and Chinese editions; and Typography: Formation and Transformation (2003). He is a member of AGI (Alliance Graphique Internationale).

You have a variety of work, and have had continuing engagements with several clients… do any projects stand out as favorites? We’ve been doing regular illustrations for The New York Times (mainly the Book Review, but other sections as well). These projects often illustrate an essay or article with a more abstract intellectual theme or relate to the impact of culture on language. Since there usually hasn’t been an immediate visual reference to start with it’s a fun challenge to figure out a visual accompaniment to an abstract idea. Unlike our usual projects, the time lines of these illustrations, which range from 24 hours to a couple days, force us to conceptualize and execute them very rapidly. We’ve also continued to design for the Johns Hopkins Film Festival for the past six years; it always challenges us to think of new ways to approach a poster subject that’s so well-worn. We’d also love to do more book design and publication design in the future; it’s a medium we enjoy working in.

 

 

Tell us about the traveling experimental typography show you curated, Alphabet. Alphabet: An Exhibition of Hand-Drawn Lettering and Experimental Typography is a show that we curated in 2005 for Artscape, a large arts festival in Baltimore. We sent out an open call for experimental and inventive interpretations of the letters A-Z and selected the 60 best alphabets from the hundreds of submissions we received. The show features artists and designers from around the world— including work from renowned designers like Ed Fella, the calligrapher Jean Larcher, and House Industries’ Ken Barber to exceptional alphabets from students and artists such as Andrew Jeffrey Wright, C.W. Roelle, and Luke Ramsey. In spite of the fact that the show was based on an open call, the level of work submitted was overall very high quality, and the resulting exhibition reflects that. There’s also a nice range of approaches ranging from elegant conceptual work to the surreal and illustrative. Since the show closed in Baltimore, Alphabet has been traveling to galleries and institutions around the U.S. (currently in Minneapolis). Check out the Alphabet website for more information.

 

 

What does your band, Double Dagger, have to do with graphic design? When we began the band a few years ago, we planned Double Dagger as a graphic design punk concept band. Design and art references made their way into a lot of the lyrics, as parallels and metaphors for the usual stuff punk bands yell about. As the band has grown and evolved, the design stuff has faded from the content, but there’s still a good bit of Internet-age, post modern stress throughout which we’re sure most designers and others can identify with. Double Dagger has also provided us a chance to design and screenprint a lot of posters, packaging, and shirts, so it’s also a chance to express ourselves visually and be our own client. We’re also really loud.

 

 

What’s next for Post Typography? Bruce: I’m going to the Dominican Republic. Woo! Nolen: I’m gonna get my car fixed and shave more regularly. We’re also making Post Typography more “legit”, working to get some larger jobs. We’ve done a lot of work across many media, but we’re excited whenever we get to do something new that forces us to think in a different way or explore new media. For example we did some film titles last year as well as our first completely Flash-based website, and we hope to continue to explore new media and ideas in the future.

 

 

Who are some other individuals or studios that you feel are doing interesting things with design? We’re generally too busy working to pay too much attention to what other people are doing. It seems like with the recent explosion of design blogs and trend-spotting blogs, one could spend all of one’s time just reading about design. We prefer to spend our time working on our own projects. That said, it seems that in general there are a lot of young smaller studios or individuals who are doing really smart and beautiful work that blurs the line a bit between design and art.

 

 

About Post Typography

Originally conceived and founded in 2001 as an avant garde anti-design movement by Nolen Strals and Bruce Willen, Post Typography specializes in graphic design, conceptual typography, and custom lettering/illustration with additional forays into art, apparel, music, curatorial work, design theory, and vandalism. Their work has received numerous fancy design awards and has appeared in such publications as Ellen Lupton’s Thinking With Type and D.I.Y.: Design It Yourself, The Art of Modern Rock, STEP Magazine, Metropolis magazine, and Taschen’s upcoming compendium, Graphic Design Now. Post Typography has appeared in multiple design and art exhibitions, and their posters are collected by high school punk rockers and prominent designers, whom they consider equally important. Strals and Willen currently teach classes in design and typography at the Maryland Institute College of Art, and have lectured at the Cooper Union, Society of Publication Designers, and Pennsylvania College of Art and Design among others.

Tell us a bit about your background, and the disciplines and media your work comprises. Like most kids, I started drawing and painting around the age of four or five. I can remember building and painting clay dinosaur sculptures in the 2nd grade with my classmates; handprint paintings were one of my favorites. Later in the 5th grade, I graduated to drawings of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle characters. I was skateboarding a lot more those days- my dad taught me how to skateboard. I grew up in the small town of La Verne just east of Los Angeles, one of those perfectly groomed suburban neighborhoods. My High school art teacher and parents were always very supportive of my interests, and I had a lot of friends who enjoyed drawing and painting. My high school art teacher pushed me creatively and technically; he urged me to follow my art interests and to pursue studies at an art college.

 

I eventually studied art and design at the Art Center College of Design in Pasadena, CA. I learned a lot about image making and met a lot of really amazing instructors and artists over the next three years. While attending art school, I met Justin Krietemyer. We immediately worked well with each other, and before we knew it, we were working on commissioned assignments, art shows and websites together. It made sense for Justin and I to keep working together on projects, so upon graduation we decided to launch National Forest, a design firm that would exploit our individual talents and our collaborative chemistry. Over the last three years we’ve completed projects for traditional print campaigns, advertising, product design, interior design, art direction and web design.

 

Aside from National Forest we still find time to work on printmaking and personal art projects. I am constantly trying to find that impossible balance between making personal artwork and client driven work.

 

 

What kind of messages do you infuse in your personal work beyond visual interest? Beyond visual interests, I enjoy creating objects that other human beings can relate to- not quite nostalgic, but closer to a personal photograph or memory. I’ve always felt a stronger connection to tangible, printed objects, so that’s what I like to make. Most of the ideas for my personal works are created from past experiences and childhood memories. But I prefer creative freedom in my personal work so the concepts and ideas are different from piece to piece. I feel like my process is very intuitive, so many of the meanings or messages are often revealed after the piece is created.

 

When creating personal works, I like to keep most of my ideas fairly subtle or ambiguous; I think it’s important to let the viewer make their own assumptions about messages and meanings within a body of work. Another person’s interpretation, according to his or her own experiences, is very interesting and significant to me.

 

 

Would you share some artists, authors, movements, places, ideas that you’ve found influential? I just recently took a three-week trip with my brother to Japan and Thailand. I couldn’t believe what we experienced in that short of time. I am so used to working and living in Los Angeles that the entire experience became a genuine culture shock. Transportation alone was extremely different: elephant back, tuk tuk, long boat, speedboat, train, plane, etc. Both Japan and The Kingdom of Thailand are absolutely beautiful countries to say the least, and there is something very inspiring about interacting with a culture on the opposite side of the planet. Japanese printmaking and Asian art have always been of serious interest to me; while in Japan, I discovered a brilliant artisan by the name of Kiyoshi Awazu. I also very much enjoy the complete works of Mr. Tadanori Yokoo.

 

Although I appreciate many different artists, movements, etc, I always seem to fall back on the timeless- John Steinbeck, Ed Emberly, Paul Rand, Ken Kesey, Neil Young, Little Brown and Company, Saul Steinberg, Bruno Munari, The Eames. To me these artists and their art bridge time.

 

 

Can you let us know what you’re working on currently? I am currently finishing up a series of concert posters for the “Be The Riottt” music festival in San Francisco, working on several t-shirt graphics and one all-over pattern design for “Sixpack France.” I’m also working on a couple of artist series T-shirt graphics for Stones Throw Records, a limited-run letterpress print produced by DWRI Letterpress and concepting for a 3-D art/object/wooden/toy/thing with Android8. Justin and I are curating a 12 man poster print show, and working on several new poster prints along with re-printing a couple of older ones. I just finished the artwork for my “Threadless select” t-shirt graphic that is due out anytime now, finished a board series for Burton a while back that’s out this winter, and my contribution to Faesthetic just dropped. I am painting on some wooden objects at home for the hell of it, trying to learn how to cook a little better this month, trying to ride my bicycle more often and buying a drum set for the 3rd time. I’m also adding learning Spanish to my “to-do list”…

 

 

About Steven Harrington

Steven Harrington lives and works in Los Angeles, CA. Aside from owning and operating National Forest Design with fellow artist Justin Krietemeyer, he still finds time to work on both commissioned and self-inspired art projects of his own. Influenced by images, fashion and graphics discovered in Time Life Encyclopedias from 1965-1972, thrift stores, and The Moody Blues, his art might be termed contextual objectivism. That is, he views each piece he creates as a tangible object that is part and parcel of a larger context; the object helps define the context and the context helps define the object. Whatever feel or meaning the observer takes away from the piece belongs to the observer. Nothing is shoved down his or her throat. Discovery is the key. Some of his most recent projects include a four board series for Burton snowboards, contributions to the French clothing line Sixpack, and a series of silkscreen prints based on the idea of “community.� He has exhibited work in Los Angeles, New York, Dallas, San Francisco, Chicago, Philadelphia, Montreal, Tokyo, Melbourne and Barcelona.

Did you have any reservations about publishing the monograph so early in your careers? What did you learn during the process of putting it together? We didn’t have many reservations about making the book. Who wouldn’t like to make a whole book about your own work? And when the publisher basically gave us no restrictions, it was too good of an offer to refuse. Since none of us had actually started our professional career as designers when the book came out, it felt kind of strange. Releasing a monograph is usually something you do at the end, and not the beginning of a career. One problem of releasing a book so early on, might be that people very soon will try to label you as one type of designer, and that clients come to you because they want you to do one sort of design. If you’re not aware of this you might easily end up doing the same things for the rest of your life. We talked a lot about this while designing it - Trying to push the work in as many diverse directions as we possibly could, and at the same time push it in a direction that we would like to explore.Making the book was also probably the best job we could ever get. The projects we had done earlier on were not at all of this size. Of course we learned a bit about production and got some experience in doing a larger typographical job. More importantly, we learned about editing ourselves, writing about what we do and putting our work into context. We actually designed the book twice. The first time the book didn’t include that much text, but that didn’t feel right. The book didn’t say anything about the context of the work or reflect the environment of Metronomicon Audio - It just felt like a range of random images that didn’t have anything important to say. When the publisher told us they would like to put the release on hold for six months we decided to start all over again. That was a valuable experience.

 

 

What have you been up to since the release of Yokoland? It’s now been about 6 months since the release of the book. At the time it was released we had just finished college, we didn’t have a studio and most of the projects we had been doing were projects we had started ourselves. Since then we’ve been fixing our new studio, had a couple of exhibitions, designed a few of record sleeves for Metronomicon Audio, tried to get enough work to pay our rent and for the first time in years had a one month vacation. So far a lot of our time has been spent on work of a more boring character. Like administration, answering phone calls and e-mails, going to meetings and getting a grip of the economical part of the job. None of us knew that it was so much boring work connected with this job. A former teacher of Aslak told us that he had read an interview with the designer Morag Myerscough where she said that she answered phone calls all day, and when her clients went home she started designing. It has felt a bit like that sometimes. And it’s probably not going to be any less phone calls in the future.

 

 

 

What effect has the attention had on your progress? So far it doesn’t feel like we’ve gotten that much attention. We’ve done a few interviews and some students have been e-mailing us about internships, but that’s basically it. But of course it feels a bit scary to experiment in new and unknown areas when we’re not the only one to see the final result anymore.

 

 

How has your involvement with Metronomicon Audio and music in general affected your art and design efforts?Our interest in art and design started with an interest in music. As teenagers we couldn’t really relate to the art we were shown in art classes at school - It was either old art that had little or nothing to do with us, or it was contemporary art that didn’t speak to us at all. We were interested in other things like music, records, books, music videos, film and graffiti. And it was the interest in these things that brought us into art and design.We started working with Metronomicon Audio about five years ago now, and the label has definitely played an important role in our development as designers. From running the label and working with the musicians we’ve learned how to organize our studio, deal with clients, and to collaborate - not only with each other, but also with clients. But the most important thing we’ve learned is to be open for new inspiration from every possible place, and not to be afraid of failing. In this way Metronomicon Audio has definitely been important. We’ve also got a form of freedom in the work with Metronomicon Audio, that you rarely find elsewhere. That’s probably something we can bring into other jobs. When that’s said, the work for Metronomicon Audio tends to be quite different from other jobs we do. Even though we try to put a lot of ourselves into every project we do, different jobs always call for different solutions.

 

 

What has influenced your practice and how do you see yourselves inspiring others? There are a lot of things that have influenced us through the years, so that list could be a mile long. As we’ve said the work for Metronomicon Audio has been of major importance, since this has been a place for us to find our own graphic voice. In the same way, the exhibitions that we’ve done the last year or two has taken us in a slightly different direction. One the people that has influenced us the most is Norwegian artist, designer, musician and filmmaker Kim Hiorthøy. He has kind of been like a mentor for us and from him we have learned that it’s not impossible to work in different fields simultaneously. We’re also huge admirers of the work of filmmaker Michel Gondry, as well as work of filmmakers like Mike Mills, Spike Jonze and Geoff McFetridge. There are also a lot of other contemporary designers, artists, filmmakers and musicians that have influenced us. And then there are a lot of historic periods that have influenced us. Just think of all the interesting periods in the history of art, how much interesting music that exists, and how many good movies that have been made, not to mention all the good stuff that’s out there that we still haven’t seen. In this way, we hope to be an inspiring little secret for other people to discover.

 

 

About Yokoland

Young Norwegian designers Aslak Gurholt Rønsen and Espen Friberg, who have been collaborating on projects since they met in high school at the age of 16, inhabit Yokoland. Together they create design, illustration and art that are idyllic, humorous and poetic without ever being mawkish some of which has been featured in Hidden Track. Being one of the most inventive design studios of today, Yokoland skillfully blends their Scandinavian approach to design into their work melding elegant humor and human touch, exploring new ways of creating graphic design solutions to stunning effect.