print

My hardback of Perverse Optimist had been long lost, left behind in California because I’d loaned it to a friend and forgotten that I had, and then he reminded me (fool!) and then *he* couldn’t find it. So he just sent me a new (to me) hardcover in the mail. Happy me, maybe happy you, if you can stand more Tibor quotes. Here are a few from the first few pages of the book.

Rules are good. Break them.

Good designers (and writers and artists) make trouble.

And another one that I really should tape to my bathroom mirror as a daily affirmation (except that’s not so much my thing.):

Eventually you’ll forget all this but there will be plenty of new ideas to choose from. And I believe that they’ll be better.

The image above is from Colors 4 (Race), published in 1993. (What if… Queen Elizabeth was black?)

Shortly after I posted about the new DC Comics Logo yesterday, Michael Bierut and I traded some email about the fact that the (better) logo that DC just replaced, known as the “bullet logo”, was designed by none other than Milton Glaser. I had read about it in the letter from the publisher on the DC site, but I was too lazy (well, busy really) to research the genesis of the logo.

Email from designer Jeff Stockwell this morning was the nudge I needed (Thanks, Jeff) to go do some poking around. That and a nice strong cup of coffee and that oh-so-fleeting “Today is the first day of the rest of my life!” ambition that usually deserts me about an hour into the day. Anyway, I digress. Jeff wrote:

Jen…
You may want to edit your DC Comics post to include that the DC “bullet” that was replaced was designed by Milton Glaser. No wonder it was so cool and lasted for so long.

Turns out that Glaser designed the logo in 1977, which I found out on this very interesting DC Timeline, which includes bits of trivia like:

1835 (Jan) Nathaniel Hawthorne creates America’s first superhero, as The Grey Champion appears in New England Magazine.

As Michael said about Glaser + the DC bullet: Who knew?

Getting my act together with regard to social correspondence is a perennial New Year’s resolution for me. I think my poor form in this regard is some teenage rebellion hangover that I’ve never recovered from. For as long as I can remember, my mother has kept a large agenda on the dresser in her bedroom and slipped into the pages are occasional cards, bought far far far in advance, commemorating birthdays, anniversaries and graduations of friends, friends’ children and family members. I am the sort of girl you’ll find shuffling through the slim selection of Hallmark cards in the supermarket on the Saturday before Mother’s Day. It’s tragic, truly. Especially considering the high regard I have for receiving paper mail, which has only increased as more and more of my personal and businss communication is conducted via email (or IM).

Lately I’ve been of the mind that I simply lack the proper tools. I’m convinced that if only I had the finest pen and stationery, writing a pithy and warm note to my host or hostess after a dinner party would be as natural to me as IMing absurd links to my friends in California is. So I’ve been on the hunt. I could stock up on pre-printed notecards – there is a vast array of choices.

But no, right now I am preoccupied with getting engraved stationery, because hey look, I’m a classy lady. And a print geek to boot. The gold standard amongst the society folks is Mrs John L Strong. (Clearly their web presence is not a priority – the placeholder page at that URL lists the physical stores you can visit to purchase their “Fine StationAry”. Hello.) Alas, such luxury comes at a price well beyond my means. So, I’m the hunt for something of that ilk, but you know, affordable.

Right now, I’m enjoying educating myself about the particulars of making such a purchase.

Till then, I am going to make do with ThankYous of the store bought variety. If you’ve done something nice for me lately, keep an eye on your mailbox.

(You can find the notecard pictured here at Pancake & Franks.)

Tyler Green of Modern Art Notes fame pointed me towards Bük:

BüK is an inexpensive
pamphlet—just $1.49—containing one provocative essay,
short story, portfolio of pictures, collection of poems, or other
surprising entertainment, readable in the time it takes to drink
a cup of coffee. At 5 x 7 inches and 16-32 pages, a BüK fits
easily into a pocket, purse or backpack, where it is always ready
to serve up absorbing material by or about architects, artists, actors,
composers, critics, directors, designers, divas, educators, economists,
environmentalists, essayists, models, moguls, novelists, photographers,
politicians, poets, singers, and scientists.

As is becoming embarrasingly well-documented here, I am a freak for the magazines. These little babies are irresistible to me. I just ordered the BüK Collector’s Kit. I don’t usually fall for the package deal things, but the logo is outstanding and the kind of thing that I’d be happy to see on my morning cup of coffee.

On my way to the gallery a few moments ago, I spotted a snipe on the future home of Lachlan Murdoch for a company called Little Jacket. Their tag line is “like design and stuff”. The caption to the poster is “Little Jacket… its kinda like givin’ a scissor kick to Paula Poundstone.” I have no idea what that means, but I was intrigued enough to pull the snipe down and bring it with me.

I went to look at their site and it turns out they’ve done some interesting project, including the Modest Mouse poster pictured here. Their portfolio shows work for a diverse range of clients: The Audubon Society, An Ice Cream Parlor and The Surf Rider Foundation to name a few.

They also have about 20 or so posters available for purchase, aside from the Modest Mouse one there are a few for French Kicks and some art exhibition related ones too.

They are based in Kent, Ohio, but they sure seem to get a around a good deal. What I like about their work is that they have established a strong style, but it’s adaptable to the particular client they are working with. That’s a hard balance to strike.

There are lots of posts in the blogosphere about the New York Public library’s recently launched Digital Gallery. I posted my own NYC real-estate obsessed version last week.

The Food Section weighed in with their History in Menus item, which focuses in on one of the more unusual collections on the NYPL site, the Miss Frank E. Buttolph American Menu Collection, 1856-1930.

I had browsed the collection when the site first launched, but gave up quickly because the site was achingly slow at that point. But its mere existence got me thinking about the fact that menus are very interesting as design artifacts, even (and sometimes especially) the paper ones that litter apartment building doorways and pile up haphazardly in the apartments of almost every New Yorker I know. You can get your menus online more and more. I am especially fond of browsing Amazon‘s weird Restaurants section where the physical menus have all been scanned in individually. (Hello, business model anyone? I can’t seem to figure it out.)

The other night I was dining in high style with some friends: take out faux-burritos from Burritoville (warning: dumb musical flash scariness at that link). They recently redid all their packaging, branding and menus. My friends scoffed at the idea when I said I was almost certain that they must have paid someone to do it. (Or had someone in-house doing their design, which I kind of doubt.) I agree with them that it’s not fabulously designed, but someone did design it. Menus are somewhat unsung from a design perspective, at least to the average person. But really, when you think about it, they’re a very interesting design challenge: God knows I’ve seen some incredibly poorly executed menus in terms of information design, and of course, their look and feel can go a long way towards branding the restaurant itself.

Some places have menus that I particularly love: PUBLIC restaurant in NYC is a great example, as well it should be, the restaurant is owned by design firm AvorKO. And I’m sure none of you will be surprised to hear that I’m fond of the simplicity of Florent‘s menu. All of Keith McNally‘s restaurant menus (and branding overall) are notable as well.

What are the menus you love (or hate)? Send .jpgs or links to jen AT unbeige DOT com.

When I’m not blogging, or splattering milk all over my kitchen, I’m running my gallery. One of the aspects of promoting the gallery and its exhibitions that I’ve really enjoyed is printing: letterhead, business cards, exhibition postcards, all of it. I was very fortunate to have the help of lots of great, talented friends when I first opened (and to this very day). Dana came up with a type treatment for my name, and we based my colors on what I had chosen for text and background colors on my Fotolog page. Simple, but it worked.

My friend Kayhan built on what Dana started – he came and spent time in the space, talked with me about my ideas (gently steering me away from the bad ones) and came up with an identity design that is distinctive, but flexible. The simple band design, which you see on the postcard above has worked perfectly for every show I’ve had since the gallery opened – nineteen and counting!

My resources are pretty limited – I certainly don’t have the print budget that a Chelsea gallery does, but I’ve figured out a way to print cards that usually come out looking pretty spiffy. I had one unfortunate incident when I ran a print job twice, for this image: the first run way was too magenta, the second too cyan. We ended up using the second batch, but man, they were way way way off. It was crazymaking.

At first, I tried to work with small shops where I could actually get a proof before they did they job, but the cost was prohibitive. Now I have settled on a gang-run house, Compucolor. It’s not always a perfect color match but they are affordable, and fast. Dana finished this card and uploaded it to their site yesterday evening – the cards (5,000 of them) were delivered to the gallery about an hour ago. And they look awesome, I have to say!

And now, I will pimp the upcoming show: photographs by none other than one Mr. Eliot Shepard, he of slower.net fame. (Also, an occasional member of Gawker‘s Team Party Crash.) I am immeasurably excited about this show, it’s been a long time in the making.

The Manhattan Users Guide people must share my mapping obsession. Yesterday’s newsletter was all about maps, from a New York perspective. Which reminds me, I really really need to make a trip to Argosy soon.

Michael Bierut posted a great item over on Design Observer about a recent interview he had with a young designer:

The best piece in her portfolio was a packaging program for an imaginary cd release: packaging, advertising, posters. All of it was Futura Bold Italic, knocked out in white in bright red bands, set on top of black and white halftones. Naturally, it looked great. Naturally, I asked, “So, why were you going for a Barbara Kruger kind of thing here?”
And she said: “Who’s Barbara Kruger?”
Okay, let’s begin. My first response: “Um, Barbara Kruger is an artist who is…um, pretty well known for doing work that…well, looks exactly like this.”
“Really? I’ve never heard of her.”

The comments thread is sizzling hot too – kicked of with this salvo from a young indignant (but not terribly original) designer:

OMG. I’m a beginning design student myself and all I can say is you arrogant snob”. WTF Do you know how many million artists and designers exist in the world today? The population explosion has attained such unprecedented levels that there really is no longer any room for pretentious snobbery. You must be over 40 is all I can say.

Over 40! The horror.

It’s Monday morning and my in box greets me with not one, not two, but three reader tips. My insomniac pre-coffee big meeting in a few hours self thanks you from the bottom of my heart, dear readers. (Keep ‘em coming – email tips to jen AT unbeige DOT com.

Let’s start with the most timely: Over the weekend David Flaherty, a NYC based illustrator, emailed me a link to the Apple True Hollywood Story of Brett Davidson, the little engine, err, designer who could, damnit!

It’s a modern version of All About Eve, except that so far as I can tell Brett is more of a Pollyanna than an Eve Harrington.

Davidson is an employee [ed note: interesting, no?] at the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences (AMPAS), which runs the Oscars. “I’ve been working here for ten years and hoping they would notice my designs,” [ed. note: Hoping they'd notice? I don't recommend this as a career tactic.] explains Davidson. This year, his perseverance paid off. His winning design for the Oscar poster is appearing in multiple forms, on venues ranging from websites to taxicabs, as part of a broad campaign to promote the show. It’s sweet success indeed, considering his lifelong passion for all things Oscar…

In a unanimous decision, Davidson’s poster won. “There were more than 100 entries from all these world-renowned designers,” he says, his voice still tinged with disbelief. “They were big guns that had put together whole campaigns to pitch their ideas. And the craziest thing was, because of my job, I was the one who had to set up their fancy presentations in the conference room. That was torture! They had their laptops and their eight-foot illustration boards, and I looked around the room and thought, I don’t stand a chance—I’m just going to kill myself now. It was very David and Goliath.“

Let’s hear it for for Underdog! It’s a classic parable, it’s just too bad that the design isn’t terribly inspired. Davey, I mean Brett let’s a little of his Eve Harrington shine through towards the end of Apple Pro Design‘s gushy, fluffy profile:

I tried to get close to the simplicity of the work of Saul Bass,” says Davidson. “He did so many great movie posters and famous logos like AT&T, United, and Kleenex. I wanted it to be bold and fresh, to breathe some youthful energy into it. I wanted it to have the retro feel of the 1950s while being contemporary too. And I wanted an arresting image that stops you in your tracks.”

Saul Bass, you say? Hmm. Not exactly the comparison I’d jump to, Hollywood dreamer, but every one knows that it pays to think big in Tinseltown.