And yet, for this year’s Kentucky Derby held in early May, partner and official hard seltzer of the Derby, White Claw, teamed up with the designer brand Homme+Femme and VCCP for an exclusive Kentucky Derby Collection. The main attraction in this collection is undoubtedly the White Claw-inspired windbreaker, dubbed the Clawbreaker, designed in two vibrant colorways.

We found inspiration in the heritage and vibrance of the iconic jockey silks. As a brand rooted in spontaneity, we look for the freshest spin on whatever we do. Exploring what a White Claw silk would look like led us to The Clawbreaker.

Gianmaria Schonlieb, Group Creative Director at VCCP

“We wanted to do something that celebrated the tradition of the Derby but also had our own White Claw spin,” Group Creative Director at VCCP, Gianmaria Schonlieb, said about the Clawbreaker development process. “We found inspiration in the heritage and vibrance of the iconic jockey silks. As a brand rooted in spontaneity, we look for the freshest spin on whatever we do. Exploring what a White Claw silk would look like led us to The Clawbreaker.”

While the fashion associated with the 150-year-old horse race might be a bit stuffy, The Clawbreaker is anything but, though it still harkens to traditional Derby motifs. “We wanted to stay true to ourselves while celebrating The 150th Kentucky Derby,” explained Schonlieb. “We designed this jacket with our brand ethos in mind. It’s designed to be both fashionable and functional, with the structure of the jacket reminiscent of an elevated jockey silk. We used bold colors from our hard seltzer flavors for the reimagined patterns. We incorporated embroidery and patchwork that nods to the legacy of the Derby and White Claw.”

The two colorways took inspiration from the Mango, Black Cherry, Blackberry, and Natural Lime White Claw flavors, chosen with the authenticity of Homme+Femme and jockey silks top of mind. “White Claw” is emblazoned on the back of each in the brand typeface, with detailed patches sewn on the front for added flair. “The patches nod to celebrating the 150th Kentucky Derby,” said Schonlieb. “It’s a unique way to inject the brand into a garment.”

The Clawbreaker provides White Claw’s avid consumer base with a fun and distinctive way to show their White Claw love, all while looking pretty spiffy in the process. “We created a garment that sits at the intersection of fashion, a cultural moment like the Kentucky Derby, and our fans’ love for the brand,” added Schonlieb.

White Claw lovers 21 and older can purchase their very own Clawbreaker for $150 to honor 150 years of Kentucky Derby fashion while supplies last.

Still, as grand as it is, The Book of Colour Concepts 1686–1963 covers, as you can see from the title, just a slice of color in human history. “No book on colour can provide an encyclopedic record with a cultural, historical, geographical and thematic claim for completion,” Loske adds, noting that “metaphorically speaking” this book is “a coat of many colours.” Exploring 67 color “concepts” in nine chapters, in Vol. 1 the authors feature early charts and tables, circles, wheels and globes, the rise of color theory and nomenclatures and standards; Vol. 2 examines the teaching of color, the early 20th century, spiritualism, occultism and music, Eastern color concepts and, finally, the Bauhaus and beyond.

Lavishly illustrated and generously annotated, this book—published in three languages, as is Taschen’s trademark—is not for the faint of heart or the weak of muscle. The volumes are packed so tightly with beautiful art and essential information that reading them on one’s lap will result in 50 shades of black and blue.

But don’t let the bulk dissuade you from getting this book. It is a masterpiece of erudition on and about the brightest virtues of the natural and supernatural world — colour.

That’s why when I came upon photos of the new RIXO location in the Marylebone neighborhood of London, I was instantly captivated and had to learn more about the unique design concept and those behind it.

RIXO is a contemporary clothing boutique specializing in bohemian sundresses and vibrant prints. Their new Marylebone location brings the whimsical energy of their clothing to life, with brightly colored architectural motifs organically illustrated all over its otherwise crisp white walls. The saturated color palette and hand-drawn line quality create a pop-art-like look, infusing the space with a playful take on classical design elements. Illustrator Sam Wood developed this aesthetic in partnership with the design studio Cúpla, helmed by Gemma McCloskey. I reached out to Wood and McCloskey to learn more about the process behind their design concept and what it was like bringing such a fresh take on retail space to fruition.

(This interview has been lightly edited for length and clarity.)

What was the development process like for this distinct store design concept?

Sam Wood: The initial process was driven by Gemma. She approached me after seeing some of my work with Claridge’s and other clients in the UK and asked me to devise something bold and colorful that told the story of RIXO in a distinctly new way.

GM: When I first stumbled across Sam’s Instagram page, his use of color felt really bright and fresh alongside his beautiful, fluid style. I knew instantly Sam would be perfect for the new Marylebone RIXO; his handwriting lent itself to enveloping the whole space while still allowing it to breathe.

SW: After I had taken a look at the other RIXO stores and got a feel for their story, it was a pleasure to bring something of Marylebone to the space and interpret that in my own line. I spend a lot of time in the area because a local gallery I work with is down the road, so I’m always roaming about looking at the mishmash of architecture from Gothic Revival (which was the basis of the alcoves) to Neoclassical (which was the basis for the floral details). I hope the eventual style reflects the multiplicity of the area and is a playful reference to how I see things existing alongside each other.

What was the rest of the collaboration process like?

GM: We had an initial meeting where I discussed the concept, design, and materials being used in the space. One of the threads from our concept for Marylebone was this nod to classical London architecture; therefore, creating illustrated paneling with a whiff of Jean Cocteau was the foundation of the design. Within this framework, it was important to give Sam the breathing space to be creative, and it was exciting seeing him embrace the concept and bring his own stamp to the design. 

Once we had reached the final internal designs, we decided we needed to use these on the external windows to fully embrace the concept. When Sam was actually onsite doing the mural, it was a very fluid process, and we would discuss colors and tweak a few things with the benefit of actually being in the space. We also added in some of the pendants which sit centrally in the space and look great.

Did you first map out the design digitally and then bring it to life on the store walls? What was it like free-handing the motifs? Nerve-wracking, exhilarating?  

SW: I am a stickler for being analogue early on; I work on full-scale drawings on paper, which gives me an idea of how the motifs will work at scale as well as the tones and quality of line. The client does not always see these, but they are an essential part of how I conceive of a design and have the confidence to execute it. After this, I can mark up the digital renders to hone the design so the client can get a full idea of the vision.

A great deal of forward planning and preparatory drawing goes into making sure that when I put the pen on the wall, it’s all where it should be. That’s an essential collaborative exercise, in this instance, with Gemma, who was fantastic to work with. Building sites are often chaotic places, which is a far cry from my day-to-day in the studio, so yes, it’s a heart-in-mouth moment every time with the first mark on the wall, but I do get a kick out of it!

Is this markers-on-walls technique a style you’ve done before? Or was it specially created and executed for this particular project?  

SW: I’ve used Posca markers for years in various contexts, they have such a nice uniformity of tone, which is ideal for bringing to life a design which needs to keep its clarity and “poppyness.” I used them for the first time in a mural context last year for Bryan O’Sullivan Studio, painting a celestial ceiling which is still on show in their gallery on Brook Street Mayfair.

Ordinarily I use a brush and acrylic when doing murals, so it was fun to what is possible with these works in the medium.

How did you feel at the end of the process after drawing your last line, stepping back, and seeing the completed store? 

SW: It’s always a moment of thinking, “Is it finished now?” There’s always the possibility of another line, filling out this corner, or changing that line. I habitually look for flaws in a work, and the “finished product” is always an opportunity to see how everything has worked together. It’s a strange feeling to hand the thing over— after a couple of days of the room being yours, it now belongs to the client and, of course, the public, who interprets it in their own way. That’s why I love working so spatially— the works sometimes divide people, but once I’m finished, that’s down to the viewers.

What sort of experience do you hope shoppers have when stepping into this RIXO store? What sensations do you hope they feel as they move about the space you all created? 

SW: So much of what I do is about storytelling and creating places where people can escape in some way. Here, the murals are front and center in the design and are a key part of the store’s identity. I hope anyone coming into the space gets a sense of the layers of detail that go into evoking the story that RIXO wants to tell, as well as how my own journey as an artist marries with that.

GM: We want the shoppers to feel invited like they’re stepping into someone’s living room at home. We didn’t want a sterile interior, which can sometimes be intimidating for a shopper. There is also a sense of escapism with the store, which we hope the customers find uplifting.

Unbeknownst to Airbnb at the time, this concept was just the beginning of what would become the company’s newest category and most impressive endeavor yet: Icons.

After the success of the Blockbuster experience, Airbnb pushed this idea of world-building even further by making the Home Alone House bookable on the site and bringing the Barbie Malibu DreamHouse to life last summer. They’ve gone all-in on bringing imagined worlds into reality, launching the first 11 new Icons experiences this week.

“Airbnb’s DNA has always been about inviting people into other people’s worlds,” Global Head of Marketing for Airbnb, Hiroki Asai, told me. “In the beginning, it was sharing homes, and then it became submarines and tugboats and castles, and you really came to Airbnb because you had this world opened up to you. So it was natural for the Barbie house and the Home Alone house to be listed, and I think what struck a chord is people got to participate in these imaginary worlds. That was the impetus for all of this.”

At a celebratory affair in sunny Los Angeles on May 1, Airbnb CEO Brian Chesky proudly presented each of the 11 Icons, which he said have been a decade in the making. And you can see why. Each concept is impressive enough, but the execution to bring the experiences to life reaches a new level of audaciousness. “Magic is not limited to our imagination,” Chesky said triumphantly to an awe-inspired crowd as he walked us through each Icon. “Icons take you inside worlds that only existed in your imagination until now.”

The Up! House

At the Icons launch event, it was clear that the Up! house was the room’s favorite—and not just because the house itself was on-site for us to tour. This recreation is an exact replica of the house from the movie, down to the most minuscule detail. “We even had to create our own rust!” Chesky said of the antiquing effect his team created for a zeppelin toy on the mantle.

“We built the house down to its specific Pantone colors and weathering of the shingles to make sure it looks exactly like what was in that film,” said Asai. “The whole house, down to the pill bottles inside and the photos in the hallway and the little chair that Carl rides up the stairs, it’s all reproduced exactly the same. The fireplace even has the ropes coming out of it that you can strum like a guitar, and it makes noise.” And what’s most impressive? This 40,000-pound structure, attached to 8,000 balloons, was built to float 50 feet above the ground in New Mexico. “If we’re going to create a world for Disney fans and Up! fans to come experience, we’re going to make that world as magical as possible,” said Asai.

The Musée d’Orsay

When I asked Asai if he had a favorite of these 11 Icons, he told me without hesitation that it was what the Airbnb team had created at the Musée d’Orsay in Paris.

This legendary art museum along the River Seine is one of the most historic buildings—a former train station—known for its two massive clocks. Airbnb worked with Mathieu Lehanneur, the designer of the Paris 2024 Olympic Games torch and cauldron, to create a luxurious bedroom in the clock room.

Guests will spend a night at the museum, with private access to the Musée d’Orsay collection, including four of Van Gogh’s most famous works. The stay will also coincide with the Paris 2024 Olympics Opening Ceremony, to be held along the River Seine just below the clock tower terrace.

The X-Mansion

Airbnb recreated the X-Mansion to look and feel like you’re stepping into a cartoon. They achieved this by working with artists to painstakingly paint black outlines along the furniture and objects in the house to create a 2D-animated effect. According to Chesky, each prop took over an hour to paint. There are well over 100 objects in the house.

The Ferrari Museum

At the Ferrari Museum in Maranello, Italy, Airbnb built a sleeping experience for those with a need for speed. The bed is crafted from the same leather as Ferrari seats and is surrounded by—you guessed it—Ferraris.

Prince’s Purple Rain House

Until now, the house Prince purchased in Minneapolis, Minnesota, for the film Purple Rain has never been available to the public. Hosts Wendy Melvoin and Lisa Coleman of Prince’s band The Revolution are opening the home’s doors for guests to spend the night in Prince’s restored bedroom from the movie and listen to unreleased Prince tracks.

Game with Khaby Lame

A handful of the Icons are less about the physical spaces and more about the incredible people with whom guests will interact. TikTok creator and gamer Khaby Lame is one such host who will spend the night with guests gaming and eating pizza at his home in Milan.

On Tour with Feid

Reggaeton sensation Feid is bringing guests along for the ride on his FERXXOCALIPSIS World Tour for an entire week. Guests will join the crew for rehearsals, ride along on the eye-catching tour bus that’s decked out with fuzzy green interiors, and get backstage access for every show.

Inside Out 2 Headquarters

To build excitement for the upcoming release of Pixar’s Inside Out 2, Airbnb has brought the famous headquarters of Riley’s emotions to life. Guests can sleep in what they’re calling a “dreamatorium.”

The Kapoor Family Home with Bollywood Star Janhvi Kapoor

Asai told me that the locales of the Icons were imperative, considering that cultural luminaries reside around the globe. “When you look at the icons of music and film and culture and art, they naturally sprout up from all over the globe and across all categories.” Janhvi Kapoor represents one of these cultures as a member of one of Bollywood’s most famous families. She is opening the Kapoor family home in Chennai, India, for the first time and will share her beauty secrets and favorite Southern Indian dishes.

“”From a business perspective, these icons allow us to talk to new audiences and stay relevant,” elaborated Asai. “In the case of someone like Jhanvi Kapoor or Feid, they allow us to talk to not only different generations of our guests but also totally different geographies.”

A Living Room Session with Doja Cat

This Icons experience is about getting intimate access to one of the music’s biggest names. Doja Cat will host a private living session for guests with songs from her latest album.

A Private Comedy Show with Kevin Hart

Superstar stand-up comic Kevin Hart typically performs for sell-out stadium crowds, but this Icons experience offers the opposite. Guests will have a private tequila tasting and comedy show with Hart at the Coramino Live Lounge, with the promise of some of his comedic friends stopping by for a set.

“What Airbnb stands for is human connection, and for us, that’s connection in the real world,” Asai said about the importance of creating physical spaces. “We don’t want to be a platform where people connect behind screens or in any other way except in real life. That’s what travel and sharing, and accommodation are all about: connecting in the real world. So, these experiences are about creating something in the real world, not virtual. But to do that, you have to build something amazing.”

When asked about the most rewarding part of working on a project of this magnitude, Asai told me it was seeing a decade of work from hundreds of people’s efforts finally come to fruition. “When you work on something this long with this many teams that are all working their hardest to do the right thing and the best quality thing that they can, it’s really rewarding to see it all come together,” he said. “Then when you show it to people that have never seen it before, and to be able to appreciate it for the first time through the eyes of someone new to it, it’s unbelievably rewarding.”

Collaborating closely with the creative minds at Mrs&Mr La Colombe’s new visual identity pays tribute to the coffee roaster’s rich graphic tradition while infusing it with a contemporary twist. Highlights of the redesign include a revamped wordmark, meticulously hand-drawn to evoke a vintage charm and a renewed sense of pride and authenticity. The iconic dove emblem, symbolic of La Colombe’s pioneering spirit, has been reinvented to exude uplift and forward momentum, reflecting the brand’s commitment to innovation. Accentuating La Colombe’s core values, this rebrand resonates throughout every aspect of its identity – from the logo and packaging to the café ambiance and retail presence.

“We created a refreshed brand look to honor La Colombe’s powerful heritage and simplicity, seamlessly tying together the brand experience in products and cafes,” said Chobani Founder and Chief Executive Officer, Hamdi Ulukaya. “The result is a beautiful reflection of our premium offering, thanks to our deep, creative collaboration with Kate and Daniel of Mrs&Mr over many months to get it just right.”

To complement the brand’s evolution, Mrs&Mr introduced a bespoke typeface. Inspired by industrial fonts, Draft Latte Sans is infused with a human touch, mirroring the artisanal craftsmanship that defines La Colombe’s products. The refreshed color palette, featuring warm tones and creamy hues, invites consumers to indulge in a sensory experience.

The refreshed identity comes together in the Draft Latte packaging, where every detail conveys a sense of authenticity and quality. The can’s base color, now a luscious cream tone, echoes the freshness of farm-fresh milk, while the enlarged logo and subtle drop shadow ensure maximum shelf presence. The curvature of the Draft Latte logo mimics an overflow of froth, while the addition of ‘ESTD 1994’ proudly showcases La Colombe’s 30-year legacy in the coffee industry.

“All of this culminates in a design system that reflects the heritage, craft, and quality that La Colombe puts into every aspect of their coffee experience,” said Kate Wadia, Founder and Creative Director of Mrs&Mr.

The collaboration between the Mrs&Mr team, Chobani’s leadership, and La Colombe’s CMO, Kathryn O’Connor, has created a visual identity that honors the brand’s legacy and paves the way for a new era of coffee experiences.

As people interact with La Colombe, they can expect flavors and experiences crafted with passion and dedication. With the launch of the Draft Latte line and the unveiling of its refreshed look, La Colombe invites coffee enthusiasts to savor every sip and embrace the artistry behind each can.

In a bold move to capture the essence of the New York City home-buying experience, StreetEasy has partnered with Mother New York to decorate the city streets with Renaissance-style paintings. These visually striking artworks vividly portray the odyssey-like challenge of purchasing a home in the Big Apple.

These ads have become impossible to ignore, as seen on bustling subway cars, iconic yellow taxi toppers, and even a complete takeover of the Broadway-Lafayette station. The campaign has now reached new heights with two hand-painted murals by Colossal Media gracing Wythe & N. 14th St. in Williamsburg and Spring & Lafayette St. in Nolita.

Navigating the real estate market in New York City has always been an adventure, but today, it can feel as elusive as acquiring a masterpiece. Despite the city’s reputation as a haven for renters, StreetEasy’s data reveals a surprising statistic: 1 in 5 New Yorkers are actively browsing homes for sale alongside those searching for rental properties.

As the campaign coincides with the spring home shopping peak, the Renaissance-inspired art style perfectly captures the complex and often dramatic emotions accompanying the search for a place to call home in the city that never sleeps.

“Let The Journey Begin” dramatizes key milestones of the home buyer’s journey in the style of Renaissance art: from deciding whether to renew a lease, searching the five boroughs with an agent at the helm, right up to the moment of getting the keys and becoming your own landlord.

Advertising to New Yorkers is an interesting creative challenge. On one hand, you have a population capable of tuning out almost anything. On the other hand, you have a savvy audience who can appreciate a clever ad that speaks to their experiences, which StreetEasy certainly has a track record of doing. ‘Let The Journey Begin’ touches on a uniquely New York problem and does it in a style that will stand out in the city’s sea of distractions.”

Nedal Ahmed, Executive Creative Director at Mother New York

These murals serve as more than just a visual spectacle; they encapsulate the aspirations, struggles, and triumphs of individuals embarking on the quest for homeownership in one of the world’s most dynamic metropolises. Through their artistry, StreetEasy and Mother New York have not only adorned the streets but have also painted a poignant portrait of the enduring allure and challenges of New York City’s real estate landscape.

Images courtesy of Colossal Media, banner image courtesy of StreetEasy.

The moment I saw this gorgeous volume sitting on a pile in a bookstore, I turned all shades of green with envy. It is one of the most richly illustrated, beautifully designed and intelligently researched books of 2024 (a year that has already had its share of extraordinary art and design offerings).

Color Charts offers a full spectrum of inspiration as it reveals through text and image the various methods used to create an incredible number of colors and hues. It contains an awe-inspiring array of original writing and vintage texts on color creation and promotion through such artifacts as swatches, fabrics, charts and dyes. Sample books and notebooks are qualitatively reproduced, and the cover (designed by Katie Osborne) is a gem as object and document.

As Varichon writes, “For centuries, people have preserved documents containing color samples, creating a treasure trove for future generations of researchers.” This is among the most generous collections of those materials I have ever seen.

I asked Varichon to detail, anthropologically and viscerally speaking, her color theories, what color means, and how these cards, posters, guides and samples fit into human perception and behavior. This interview (and the book) was translated from the French by Kate Deimling.

What inspired your collection and scholarship in this unique realm of color?
In the 1980s, I curated exhibitions for various museums, including the Institut du Monde Arabe in Paris, the Louvre, and others. Color came up all the time, but there were no books discussing the people who produced color or describing how and why, with what materials, and for whom color was manufactured. So I started doing research to explain the purpose of this strange thing, which is so hard to define, often requires great efforts to produce, and has little practical use, but still exists everywhere, and has existed since the dawn of humanity. In 1998, I published Couleurs, pigments et teintures dans les mains des peuples, an anthropological overview of the producers, materials, processes and uses of color, starting in ancient times and covering various cultural areas. This book is still in print and has been translated into several languages. The English edition is Colors: What They Mean and How to Make Them. I continued to do research in this area and gradually I had an intuition that in the Western world, color samples had catalyzed developments in science, technology and aesthetics over the centuries, while also causing crucial transformations in the way society thought about color. But I still needed to prove this hypothesis!

I’m impressed by how deeply you delved and how far back these go.
I started working on color samples in 2007, kind of feeling my way around, as often happens when you tackle an area that hasn’t really been explored. I was immediately charmed by these documents and their enchanting power, which was exactly the thing I wanted to try to decipher. And right away I was also so amazed by the variety, beauty and poetry of color charts that I wanted to share these documents (the vast majority of which had never been published and were inaccessible) with as many people as possible. That also meant giving readers ways of understanding these color charts, and a sense of how each one was part of the construction of a constantly changing relationship to color. This research took 16 years. Finally, the images of the color charts had to be perfect. Philippe Durand Gerzaguet, who took all the photos, managed to pull this off.

You have a section on naturalists using samples. How universal was this for scientists in the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries?
Scientific disciplines, in the modern sense of the term, were for centuries essentially European. When color references were used outside Europe, it’s because they traveled with Western researchers. For instance, when Darwin traveled to the Madeira Islands, he took with him a copy of Werner’s 1821 nomenclature of colors that was completed by Syme. This allowed him to record the colors of the plant and animal species he sampled in his explorations. But many cultures never needed samples to observe and understand their environment and were able to use other methods to develop bodies of knowledge whose depth more than competes with modern science.

Was there a mystical as well as scientific interpretation of color for which color samples were used?
There have certainly been mystical interpretations, but I’ll just respond here to their scientific use: Yes, color samples were part of the rise of science in the West. In the hands of practitioners, such as dyers or painters, they were helpful tools well before the Enlightenment. They facilitated the memorizing of experiments and contributed to more precise communication of discoveries. So these color samples were crucial links, because they already implemented a logic that would ultimately be taken up and developed in scientific protocols. 

You discuss nomenclature. How did colors get their names?
The lexicon of color charts depends on when the document was designed, by whom, for whom, and for what purpose. The first color charts made by naturalists often indicated colors by the names of the pigments that produced them (for instance, Minium in Waller’s work for a red obtained from lead). It was the same for manuals of artistic practices (Geele Orperement for a yellow obtained from orpiment in Boogert’s manuscript, for example). Dyers, who excelled at creating a wide array of shades, had to be more inventive from the start. Their color names constantly evoked references that embodied a certain color (Cabbage Green, Mouse Gray, and even Goose Shit). For instance, Antoine Janot’s brown shade called Cinnamon has no connection to the spice, but is the result of combining yellow, red and gray from weld, madder and oak gall. The terms would remain image-based, or even poetic, in textile color charts (with names like Dawn, Geisha or Zenith appearing in ribbon color charts during the interwar period). But chemists’ color charts would adopt intimidating yet very specific names from molecules (such as Rhodamine 6 J Extra in a color chart of dyes for Galalith from the 1920s). Only the color charts for decorative paints and artists’ paints would construct a descriptive and somewhat stable lexicon (Medium Turquoise Blue, Wood Tone, Train Car Green, etc.). Other names were inherited from ancestral pigments (Red Ocher, Ivory Black), even once they became exclusively synthetic. For instance, a gouache shade was still called Indian Yellow in the 1950s, when this pigment, suspected of being obtained from dehydrating cows, had already been replaced by a substitute a long time before.

Can you discuss the upheaval with synthetic colors?
To summarize in a few words: The discovery of synthetic dyes and pigments starting in the mid-19th century, combined with the growth of industrial processes, made affordable color available to everyone. Finally, color was not restricted to the elite. This is what I call the color revolution. The flipside of this is that the arrival of synthetic color wiped out the immense knowledge of colors from nature, first in Europe and then around the world, ultimately leading to a profound transformation of humanity’s relationship to color.

Were color charts frequently revised?
Color charts could be reproduced identically for decades (such as color charts for Ripolin paint from the early 20th century). Textile color charts had to follow the rhythm of fashion, which was always changing. For instance, the ribbon color charts made by the Silk Federation changed every six months. Since the 1950s, color charts have been subject to the increasing speed that has affected all human activities. Today, they often last no longer than a butterfly.

Was there a universal language of color?
I don’t think there is a universal language of color. Its use is universal, yes, because color is a signal that is immediately perceptible, even from afar. So it is used everywhere to make visible—especially through clothing—categories of individuals (a wealthy person, a widower, a foreigner). But the way in which a community takes hold of color to express meaning depends on its particular culture at that time. Color is thus a parallel language for all societies, but specific to each one and constantly evolving.

How much of the colors used in textiles, paints, etc., came from flowers?
Dyes were produced from plants for a long time—not only flowers, but roots, leaves, bark, wood, and also berries. Insects and shells were additional resources for color. Minerals provided pigments, but even in prehistoric times, they were also formulated from the products of combustion, fusion or oxidization (charcoal, smalt, lead white, etc.). Cultures were very inventive, determined and brave in the ways they produced color from the resources found in their environment.

These charts from the past are such beautiful artifacts. Were they seen as art or purely functional ephemera?
For a long time, color sampling was private, remaining in the personal world of correspondence between scholars or inside workshops and factories. And even when the commercial world took hold of them in the late 19th century, color charts were distributed sparingly because producing them with samples of fabrics or feathers, or applications of paint or pastel, was expensive and labor-intensive. These rare, beautiful documents were preserved in workshops, stores and families. They inspired new productions and, over time, taught both the names of colors and ways of classifying them. So color charts developed as tools, lexicons, textbooks … and sources of dreams. Starting in the 1950s, when color printing replaced physical samples, color charts were distributed much more widely. Today, they are found everywhere, even on ordinary leaflets. Of mediocre quality and often ugly, these color charts have lost their poetry and sometimes they can’t even claim the noble function of tools.

Am I correct that during the world wars, color was muted, and after, color exploded?
Yes and no! Of course, restrictions on pigments and dyes due to wartime limited access to color, and during times of crisis, dark fabrics that could hide stains and signs of wear were emphasized. But the desire for color is also linked to customs, which evolve slowly. Right after World War I, everyone wore black because every family had to mourn someone who was killed in the trenches or struck down by the Spanish Flu. The postwar period of the 1950s was different: The rules about mourning were more flexible, and Western society was stimulated by the optimism of the period known as “les Trente Glorieuses” in France. Movies and magazines began to overflow with colorful images, the rise of ready-to-wear encouraged variations in clothing styles, and, finally, the petrochemical industry provided many innovative materials, pigments and dyes. Society could joyfully shift into color.

Of all the information that you researched, what was the most exciting surprise?
Great question. I think I was surprised every day during all my years of research as I discovered unknown color charts that had been forgotten in dark warehouses or had sat inert for decades on library shelves. Even the most insignificant ones had something to say about some aspect of the history of color. Of course, there were some I found especially fascinating: the color chart of silk velvet ribbons by G.G. & Cie, the color charts for artificial flowers, or those made by chemists during the interwar period, which are very humorous and aspired to add color to everything, from bicycle tires to soap. The major discovery of my research, however, was to realize that these innocent fragments of color had been the economic instrument, and then the political instrument, of hegemonic industrial development. By distributing color charts, industrial society not only crushed ancestral know-how everywhere, but it also globalized methods for classifying color that came from a way of thinking focused on quantitative analysis and productivity. Other concepts of color, which could be based on the depth and delicacy of shades or its relevance for a particular use, did not survive. The replacement of the product sample by printed color was their death knell, as color was now dissociated from its medium. The sensory experience was forgotten, and all the factors were in place for color to gradually be reduced to a bare reference number. I think that is where we are today. We have managed to “distribute the whole world with a single code,” as Georges Perec wrote in his essay collection Penser/Classer. Fortunately, the absolute necessity to escape from harmful overconsumption is beginning to make the pendulum swing back in the other direction. The future will certainly be full of surprises!

Founded in 1881 and revered as one of the world’s preeminent orchestras, the BSO has long graced the stages of Symphony Hall and Tanglewood, captivating audiences with masterful compositions by legendary conductors. The Boston Pops has become synonymous with musical excellence, with an illustrious history boasting luminaries like Arthur Fiedler and John Williams, enchanting listeners with iconic performances and annual spectacles. Tanglewood has long been hallowed ground for music aficionados, hosting an array of celebrated artists against an idyllic backdrop in Lenox, Massachusetts.

However, as the BSO sought to bridge the gap between its storied past and a vibrant future, it recognized the need for a contemporary reimagining of its brand identity. Colossus rose to the occasion, infusing the institution’s legacy with modernity while preserving its rich heritage.

The new brand, characterized by warmth and approachability, departs from previous iterations, unifying the BSO’s diverse offerings under a cohesive visual identity. The brand features a color-coded system and two complementary typefaces, blending old-world sophistication with contemporary flair. This rebrand is significant because it focuses on fostering broader audience engagement and accessibility, reflecting the BSO’s commitment to innovation while preserving its legacy and ensuring that classical music remains accessible to all.

Eager to learn more about the strategy and process behind this colossal undertaking, Travis Robertson, Co-Founder and Executive Creative Director of Colossus, and Jesse Needleman, Vice President, Marketing, Sales, & Communications of BSO, happily obliged with an exclusive.

(Conversation edited for length and clarity).

Given the Boston Symphony Orchestra’s history and cultural significance, what were the key challenges and considerations in modernizing its brand identity?

Travis Robertson: This project was equal parts exhilarating and terrifying. Walking in the shadows of giants, our team felt a tremendous sense of pride and the weight of responsibility to get it right. For an institution so steeped in tradition and heritage, changing the course required tremendous strategic alignment, research, and due diligence. We involved key stakeholders, customers, and musicians before putting pen to paper. We ensured that the classical purists and institutional guardians felt heard and represented while also moving forward with something that resonated with the next generation.

We kept harkening back to a quote from Henry Lee Higginson, the American businessman and Civil War veteran who founded the BSO in 1881. He wrote that the institution aimed “to make fair prices for the tickets and then open wide the doors.” With that in mind, we did our best to create an inviting, unpretentious brand identity that also underscored the magnitude and credibility of the music.

On the use of architectural elements as design influences for the new brand identity: Could you elaborate on the significance of this approach and how it reflects the essence of the Boston Symphony Orchestra?

Travis Robertson:

Four disparate pieces of the puzzle had to be solved and, ultimately, unified through the development of the new identity system. Tanglewood: an outdoor music venue nestled in the hills of The Berkshires. Symphony Hall: the iconic building known as an acoustic jewel and home to the BSO. The Boston Pops: the celebratory, popular expression of the symphony known as “America’s Orchestra.” And, of course, the flagship Boston Symphony Orchestra. While musicians come and go, the stage itself has served as the bedrock of consistency throughout the history of the BSO.  You can feel it in the walls of Symphony Hall and the grass of Tanglewood’s infamous Music Shed.

To define the look and feel of the new brand identity, we looked to architecture and the unique sense of space created by each setting to help guide us. After touring each structure, we gravitated toward certain characteristics, shapes, and geometric patterns. We further solidified this idea after viewing the original Symphony Hall blueprints from the architectural firm McKim, Mead & White (1900). We saw that the windows, soffits, and side entry were all built in the same arch shape. We assigned this shape to the BSO and then worked to uncover further geometric signifiers for Pops, Tanglewood, and Symphony Hall. In the end, we arrived at a consistent system rooted in a place of history and authenticity.

To broaden the appeal of classical music to a younger and more diverse audience, how did Colossus approach the task of making the orchestra’s brand more accessible while still maintaining its sense of sophistication and tradition?

Travis Robertson: Great question. Our design team on this project was both young and diverse, ensuring that we weren’t telegraphing uninformed perspectives or misrepresenting things. We also took the time to speak with each audience segmentation- from Classical Purists to Experiential Engagers to Mainstreamers- making sure our approach resonated along the way.

Ultimately, it won’t be the color palette, clever iconography, or playful shape choices that make the orchestra more accessible. We can only pique the interest and pave the path for new audiences. Our work is the outward signal of this institutional evolution. However, the BSO’s programming, innovations, collaborations, and meaningful community partnerships will create a truly impactful and well-rounded step forward. And they’ve made some incredible strides to do just that. It’s been heartening to see the next chapter of this storied institution begin to take shape.

Could you delve deeper into how the selection of specific colors for each sub-brand reflects the unique identity and essence of the disparate entities?

We derived the color palette from the historical lineage of the brand, alongside modern influences and the need to differentiate the four factions of the BSO. Blue for the Boston Symphony Orchestra, a foundational colorway for decades. Red for the Boston Pops, with nods to Americana and holiday festivities. Green for Tanglewood is an homage to the lush foliage and natural setting in Lenox, MA. And gold for Symphony Hall, based on the iconic building’s gilded brass and brick textures.

Given the aim of making classical music more approachable and inclusive through the new brand identity, what specific strategies or initiatives does the Boston Symphony Orchestra plan to implement to ensure that this message resonates with diverse audiences? How do you envision these efforts contributing to breaking down barriers and expanding the orchestra’s reach?

Jesse Needleman: What’s critical in getting the brand identity to resonate is backing it up with programming that resonates, too; the product we offer and its packaging absolutely need to match.

We always look at our programming through a lens of engagement. So to that end, we’ve been working hard to bring exciting young talent to our stages (like South Korean pianist Yunchan Lim, who studies at NEC, won the Van Cliburn piano competition, and recently sold out four concerts at Symphony Hall), to commission and premiere new works (from the likes of Tania Leon and our newly announced Composer Chair Carlos Simon), to offer more culturally relevant programming (like a Pride Night concert featuring Thorgy Thor, and Dia de Muertos concerts, both with the Boston Pops), and to bring added context to the music we perform by including companion humanities programming in thematic festivals that anchor our seasons (like “Shostakovich Decoded” and “Beethoven & Romanticism” that will be part of the recently announced 2024-2025 BSO season).

The brand identities signal that it’s a new day at the BSO, both in the sense that we are continuing our deep and rich history of innovation in orchestral music and that we are taking a hard look at how we want to innovate the future so that we can contribute as much as we can to the amazing communities that we are part of in Boston and in the Berkshires; we are excited there will be much more to come on exactly what that means.

With the evolving landscape of music consumption and entertainment preferences, how does the BSO envision itself in the digital realm, and how will the new brand identity support its efforts to connect with audiences through online channels and multimedia experiences?

Jesse Needleman: The pandemic taught us a lot about creating digital experiences (particularly concerts via streaming video) and led us to approach this project with a strong “digital first” mentality. While interest in streaming concerts has waned since the public began returning to concert halls for in-person performances, we also know that we live in an increasingly digital world, and media that were once thought of as “traditional” (like outdoor) are themselves becoming digital, and require a different approach to brand identity. So, as part of developing the new identities, we not only created static versions of our logos but also developed animated versions, and we are also developing an audio component for them. Sight, sound, and motion are critical to capturing attention in the digital world that we live in, and so our brand identities need to take advantage of that.

In a world where cultural institutions must evolve to meet the demands of a rapidly changing landscape, the Boston Symphony Orchestra is a shining example of tradition reimagined. With its bold new identity, the BSO will captivate hearts and minds for generations to come, inviting audiences to experience the transformative power of music in all its splendor.

A design-first organization, Dropbox gathers its creatives for an annual design summit. This year, the company chose the theme “Blank Space” with a clear mission—to craft an experience that helps creatives conquer their fear of the blank page, embrace new things, and reconnect with their creative mojo.

Charmie Shah, the summit’s creative director and designer, conceptualized an event alongside the VP of Design at Dropbox Alastair Simpson and Sally Croom, Design Operations, to inspire and invigorate participants, encouraging them to embrace the unknown and venture beyond their comfort zones. The event’s core ethos of “Boundless Exploration” permeated every facet of the summit, from its logo to the physical space.

As someone who struggles with a fear of the blank page, I spoke to Shah to learn more about Dropbox’s strategies for tackling entrenched creative inhibition. We also explored how the summit’s spirit of boundless exploration manifested in its design and atmosphere.

Our conversation, below, has been edited for length and clarity.

Creatives often struggle with the blank canvas. How did you approach creating an experience that acknowledges this fear and actively empowers them to embrace experimentation and rediscover their creative agency?

Many things went into this event because it wasn’t just a branding project; it was also a physical space where we ensured that each element, every installation, and everything the creatives would experience would empower them to create. We didn’t want a sense of creation on demand; we didn’t want to force them onto a canvas and ask them to paint or draw; we just wanted them to feel empowered that they could create.

When we started this project, one of Dropbox’s main problems was that the company noticed the creatives were afraid of creating freely. Dropbox has a lot of product designers, and many of them would get mechanical and into the execution mindset rather than appreciating craft or playing and innovating. Dropbox felt the creators needed a sense of creative exploration, and that’s where this idea came from.

I started researching to understand this feeling of creative exploration and how we could bring it to life through various touchpoints rather than just a brand identity and ending it there.

The first element was the invitation; we wanted to send it out immediately to excite everyone about the idea. The event’s location was Palm Springs, which is really beautiful, so when choosing materials, I wanted to make sure that they would reflect the environment and the environment would reflect in the material. Dropbox wanted creatives to feel a sense of boundlessness—an open, free, and ethereal feeling— without actually having to meditate, so it was essential to create unobtrusive installations.

In my conversations with the leadership team, a sense of boundlessness kept coming up, ultimately informing the choice of materials. It all started with that desire to create an open space.

How did the abstract concept of “boundless exploration” translate into tangible design elements, such as the logo and the materials?

For the logo, I wanted to ensure fluidity and low contrast when it existed in graphic spaces or on all the branded elements, so it was pretty simple. The fun part was how the logo broke open and interacted across the edges of spaces; it would move around, spread open on the edges, and act as if it were exploring the borders.

We also used the exploration idea in other aspects of the branding; for example, different keynote slides with animated type that broke open and animated around the edges. When the logo opened up, it created this space in the center — evoking creative space.

I worked on a fun initial animation in which the logo would show up, hesitate a little bit, and then come back in place before fully opening and moving—synonymous with how we hoped the creatives would behave on this journey in Palm Springs.

The decision to have all the materials be reflective and unobtrusive came from the desire to encourage creatives to immerse themselves in the creative act. That’s where the idea of using metallic surfaces on the name badges came in. 

We had planned one final surprise event for the Dropbox attendees: a fun dinner at The Invisible House at Joshua Tree. Nobody knew the location. It’s such a beautiful, mirrored venue, reflecting the environment around it and blending in. The creatives didn’t know it would be their last stop, but we wanted the reflective event materials to give them hints.

I loved the thought that went into this event. We could have made generic name badges, but the material choice made them much more fun, and the creatives wore them with pride. The badges were so reflective that you could see the palm trees and the sky. Rather than featuring the attendees’ titles—the event included designers, producers, project managers, product designers, art directors, and brand designers—we used their Adobe Creator Types test results, which Dropbox had their staff take internally. We designated a color for each of the eight types represented on the metallic badge. When everyone walked in, they weren’t just a product manager, producer, or designer; they were all creatives identifying with other creative types.

For the badge installation, we created a wooden, umbrella-like structure. Because of the badges’ reflective nature, when the sun hit them, they reflected splotches of color around the space. There was even a custom cut-out of the Dropbox logo in the structure—designed to be unnoticeable until the sun hit the right angle, subtly reflecting the logo. We wanted it to feel like a Dropbox event without it being overly branded.

We created a badge installation where the creatives would walk in and they would see the badges displayed a certain way. The idea was to have an umbrella-like structure set up and because the badges were so beautiful and reflective, the Sun would just hit the badges and the metallic surfaces would reflect and you could see the splotches of color being reflected all around.

The wooden badge structure itself had a custom cut out of the Dropbox logo in it so nobody would really notice it but when the Sun hit the right angle, the shadow would reflect the Dropbox logo which was a fun hint of making it feel like it’s a Dropbox event without it being overly branded.

“Blank Space” suggests embracing openness and possibility. How did you balance this theme with the need for structure and flow in the event’s programming?

We worked with the event production agency OTHR to bring the event to life. The installations we created were critical because it was a design event, so all the little pieces — for example, an outside area for the creatives to sit with their notebooks and complete exercises — had to feel warm and welcoming but also sleek and on-theme.

We purposely limited the number of speakers because last year, we noticed that having too many panels every day exhausted the attendees and left little time for them to reflect and work on assignments. We didn’t want this to feel like a work event, rather, it had to feel like a space for them to be creative and feel free to explore.

We had Austin Kleon, author of Steal Like an Artist, who spoke about finding inspiration in various sources and transforming those ideas into our own, even if they may not be entirely original. He led a creative exercise called Blackout Poetry, where participants blackout portions of text to create new poems. Afterward, the creatives got time to complete an assignment rather than jump into another thing. The spacious flow of the event produced an atmosphere of calm and a sense of peace. It’s really fun to play around with the design of the materials and the event space, but it’s also fun to design attendee moments like this — to engineer time to create, be free, and not rush from one thing to the next.

What other insights or advice do you have to encourage creatives to embrace the blank space?

One concept I came across during my research, which I still remember and thought was beautiful, was that ideas have states of matter.

When you think about an idea, that state of matter is vapor (a gas), so it cannot be held or easily seen. When you start speaking about your idea, it turns into a liquid state, visible but not easily held. When you write your idea down on a physical piece of paper, it becomes solid and tangible.

So many of us get stuck in the vapor stage. I also go through that. I have so many ideas, and I don’t progress because it can be overwhelming. But once you start talking about an idea and writing it down, your idea evolves and becomes more tangible. You’ve progressed out of the vapor stage! 

This idea of the three states of matter, from vapor to liquid to solid, helped me visualize the progress from ideation to fruition. I hope it makes embracing the blank space a little less daunting for other creatives, too.

Nichols’ latest book, Flowers for Things I Don’t Know How to Say, is a poignant exploration of human connection and empathy in times of struggle. Drawing from personal experiences and a desire to offer solace to those facing hardship, Nichols embarked on a heartfelt journey culminating in a collection of flower paintings paired with words for the often small, sometimes overlooked moments that accompany hardship and grief. Things like the nurses who so graciously tell us what’s happening as a loved one lay on a hospital bed (one of our favorites).

Tucker shared that “putting work out into the world is never straightforward. To go from making something for myself to sharing it with the public (via the postal service, on Instagram, or in a book) can be tricky, but it’s also deeply satisfying in its own way. At the end of the day, I make things for myself and then try to find how they might land for someone else. The images with captions work when they resonate with someone else’s reality. I fundamentally believe that our sense of separateness is a myth, that we all have fears and hopes and frustrations and joys that overlap more than they don’t.”

In this book, an underlying idea is that even when life reveals what feels like an isolating experience almost beyond words, we might find some comfort in knowing that others have been here before.

Tucker Nichols

I make things for myself and then try to find how they might land for someone else. The images with captions work when they resonate with someone else’s reality.

Tucker Nichols

The inspiration for the project stemmed from Nichols’ own battle with illness and the realization that sometimes, despite our best intentions, words fail to convey the depth of our emotions. Reflecting on his journey to remission, Nichols found solace in the support of a close-knit group of loved ones, underscoring the importance of genuine connection during times of adversity.

Initially starting as a small gesture of kindness, Nichols began sending flower paintings to sick individuals on behalf of their loved ones. The project gained momentum when it was featured on national television, prompting requests from people around the world grappling with various challenges, from illness to grief to everyday struggles.

“I make flower paintings throughout the day—over breakfast, at my studio, at the dentist’s office. Drawing and painting regularly—some might say constantly—is how I stay sane, and I can get grumpy if I don’t make some art every day. I usually make the flower paintings without an idea of what text might accompany them unless there’s a news event that I want to speak to, like someone dying or another mass shooting. They find their way into piles in my studio, and when it’s time to make captions, I spread out a few and see what comes to mind.”

—Tucker Nichols

In Flowers for Things I Don’t Know How to Say, Nichols invites readers to contemplate the shared experiences that bind us together as human beings. Through his art, he reminds us that despite the complexities of life, we are never truly alone in our struggles. Each painting and accompanying caption serve as a reminder of humanity’s interconnectedness and the power of empathy to bridge the gaps between us.

Conran Design Group (CDG), a prominent brand and design consultancy under Havas — one of the world’s largest global communications groups — has unveiled a distinctive new brand identity. Positioned as Havas’ flagship brand and design network, CDG introduces an exciting purpose: design to inspire progress.

This purpose is not just a tagline but a guiding philosophy shaping every aspect of Conran Design Group’s identity. The brand adopts a striking typographic approach spearheaded by Jean François Porchez, a French type designer recognized for his work with Le Monde and the type for the French Olympic team. The new logo emphasizes that design is central to business and everyday life. Meanwhile, bold iconography captures the essence of its diverse locations, showcasing the brand’s global presence.

The rebranding effort extends beyond aesthetics, reflecting an evolved proposition that integrates sustainability across its offerings. With a renewed focus on brand strategy, design, experience design, and communications, CDG aims to deliver meaningful progress for businesses, individuals, and society.

“Fundamentally, the new brand places design at the heart of the offer; it’s central to our name, history, and future and reflects an unwavering belief that progress needs to be designed. The new marque, with the D at the centre of the C, is at the core of the identity and a shorthand for our positioning. It feels confident, full of personality, and culturally relevant,” says Lee Hoddy, Executive Creative Director.

The launch of Conran Design Group’s new brand identity aligns with the introduction of Citizen Brands, a study and accompanying framework designed to help brand leaders achieve balanced growth in an unbalanced world. The study offers a comprehensive brand and design strategy to guide leaders in creating brand experiences catering to both individual preferences and societal good.

CDG’s reinvigorated identity reaffirms its legacy and propels it into a new era of creativity and impact. With its unwavering belief in the power of design to drive positive change, Conran Design Group seeks to continue shaping the future of brands.

Located within the Academy of Fine Arts in Katowice, Poland, Tauron Lab stands out as a state-of-the-art new media laboratory in Europe. Offering groundbreaking audiovisual technologies, Tauron Lab provides a unique platform for artists and scientists alike to explore creativity in an immersive environment.

Operated by the Soundscape Foundation, a non-profit organization dedicated to enhancing the urban sound environment through research and education, Tauron Lab serves as a nexus where culture, art, and technology intersect. Creative agency Meteora, located in Kraków, was tasked with developing the brand identity for this experimental audiovisual lab — no small feat bringing sound experimentation to visual representation.

Since its official opening in September 2023, Tauron Lab has been a hub of creative activity. The multidimensional space hosts a diverse array of initiatives tailored to cater to various audiences. At the heart of its offerings is Tonarium, a futuristic sound tool that facilitates experimentation with audio. 

The lab also showcases various audiovisual technologies, events showcasing cutting-edge technologies, artistic residencies focusing on innovation, workshops for both kids and adults, and installations highlighting experimental prototypes.

One of Tauron Lab’s key features is its artistic residencies, which provide opportunities for artists to delve into cutting-edge technologies such as three-dimensional sound systems and spatialization methods. These residencies aim to foster experimentation and innovation in artistic expression.

To visually communicate these initiatives, the Soundscape team collaborated with Meteora on crafting a comprehensive identity system incorporating typography, geometric shapes, and dynamic animations, each tailored to reflect the nature of the lab’s diverse events. The goal was to create a transparent identity that enhances, rather than overshadows, the content of each event.

Tauron Lab aims to be more than just a laboratory; rather, it is a dynamic space where creativity knows no bounds and the fusion of art and technology opens new realms of possibility.

The real estate developers Tom and Fred Elghanayan, founders of TF Cornerstone, knew they had to beautify the view to command luxury rents. They turned to Karlssonwilker for this deceptively simple, yet incredibly complex challenge.

Over the next five years, the designers—whose client list includes an international roster of museums and other design-forward organizations—figured out how to transform the wall into a dreamy cloudscape with winged creatures flying above, a little tsunami and the city skyline below, and poetry throughout. Now, each apartment that faces the wall has a remarkable and unique view. If a unit faces the street or the Hudson River, the tenants can enjoy the mural from the building’s courtyard garden, gym, or hotel-like gathering spaces. Nonresidents can view it from across the street, where this formerly desolate part of town—home to auto showrooms and repair shops as well as the Department of Sanitation—has transformed itself to serve residents with upscale coffee shops, a Pilates studio, a preschool, even a pet daycare center.

All this took time to come about. Karlssonwilker submitted design proposals that featured fields of grass, meadows of flowers, and verdant forests. There was a lengthy exploration of robots that would scale the walls, shoot paint, and change the vista with every 100-foot climb and descent. At first, the developers felt the $2 per square foot cost to get the robots in motion was reasonable. Still, complications ranged from potential insurance liability to the need for approvals from the Public Design Commission, the Community Board, and the Department of Sanitation, whose wall it technically is. “Ideas are not always bought by the client,” explained Karlsson, “but we keep working until an idea we love is loved by the client, too.”

The designer-client discussion soon turned to this: What would be there if the wall didn’t exist? Well, there would be sky, clouds, water … and the NYC skyline—a view one would never tire of. And the color scheme? It needed to be soothing, offensive to no one, pleasurable to all.

I recently had the pleasure of joining Karlssonwilker partners Hjalti Karlsson and Vera Yuan at the property and taking a tour led by TF Cornerstone principal and SVP Zoe Elghanayan. Every client meeting should be like theirs: a relaxed discussion, a look at the past and the future, and an analysis, in this case, taking in views of the mural from apartments on different floors and discussing such issues as where to extend the mural and in what year the paint might need a touchup.

Left: Client meeting in an apartment kitchen. L-R: Hjalti Karlsson, Zoe Elghanayan, Vera Yuan. Right: The meeting continues in the garden space between the building and the wall.

When the four of us sat down to chat, my first question was, “How did you meet?” Elghanayan’s response: “Through a referral.” It’s a truism that the most exciting projects come to designers not by waiting for the right clients to discover them, not by cold-calling, and not by falling for email pitches promising lists of fabulous prospects, but by referral.

As it happened, Anne Pasternak, the director of the Brooklyn Museum, had commissioned Karlssonwilker to design an anniversary book for the organization she previously led, Creative Time. The designers invented what they called the Real-Time Recording Machine, which, driven around Manhattan on a glass-walled truck, captured snapshots of sounds, colors, and people’s comments that were applied to individual covers so that each book, like the works of the artists Creative Time champions, was a unique work of art in itself.

TF Cornerstone realized that if Karlssonwilker could come up with that, they could devise something equally original and valuable for them. They were the only design firm consulted.

“Karlssonwilker has been a pleasure to work with, and I don’t feel that way about everyone,” Elghanayan said with a smile. She is especially keen on the poetry. Tucked into the mural’s composition are 16 poems, six in the public domain, including works by Edna St. Vincent Millay and Walt Whitman, and ten written especially for the project by mambers of the Poetry Society of New York. “We collaborated with the Poetry Society to choose local poets to write up to 200 words that celebrate New York neighborhoods and their history and architecture,” Karlsson explained.

“I’m a big fan of image and text combinations in art,” Elghanayan pointed out. At TFC, we’re so inspired by the city, and the poetry adds an important dimension. It’s a story wall. I was so proud to bring the local poets here for a tour,” she added, pointing out how the art program throughout the interior of the building continues the theme of image and text. “In many ways, the mural enhances and supports the art program,” she said. “It also enhances TFC’s reputation for going the extra mile to enhance the quality of life for residents.”

“Storytelling has been an ongoing motif in Karlssonwilker’s” work, Yuan noted. “Without the poems, it wouldn’t be the same wall.”

“Hand-painting the Trade Gothic typeface was challenging,” Karlsson recalled, but we worked through it on-site with the painters.”

If the design process was lengthy, the painting process was speedy. A rigging was set up. The outlines of the mural were printed in vertical strips. Holes were popped through the outline and transferred to the wall with charcoal. A team of painters from Artfx Murals, responsible for some of the most spectacular outdoor murals around New York City, worked on it at full tilt for four weeks straight.

Every major design project begs answers to questions like: What has it accomplished for the client’s business? Has it helped raise the company’s profile or revenues and made it easier to accomplish its goals? Has it inspired others to pull off a similar sleight of hand?

“The mural has helped reduce the amount of turnover in units that would have been facing a blank wall,” Elghanayan said. “Feedback during apartment tours has been positive. In fact, bad weather appears to increase how well the mural is received, which speaks to its success as an extension of reality. Karlssonwilker accomplished a phenomenal design feat that can’t be easily copied,” she emphasized, “and if someone tried, I imagine it wouldn’t be as successful. Also, given the grand scale of the wall, I don’t think too many others would take on the beautification challenge that we did.”

If you’d like to see more of “The Mural at the Max,” visit karlssonwilker.com or drop by 606 West 57th Street and take a look for yourself. (And, on a hot summer day, swing by Karlssonwilker’s studio in Ridgewood, Queens, and get some very special ice cream.)

Header photo and additional photos in story provided by author.

Coffeehaus at COLLINS hosts a monthly communal gathering for people from all walks of life who share the goal of simply showing up to experience creative community. March’s event featured a conversation, book signing, cocktails, and treats with the illustrious Craig Frazier, who discussed his newly released book Drawn, a compendium of his illustrations for prominent publications and businesses around the globe.

An internationally renowned illustrator with a career spanning since 1978, Frazier’s illustrations are celebrated for their wit, optimism, and simplicity.

His creative contributions have appeared in the New York Times, Time Magazine, Fortune, Bloomberg Business Week, Harvard Business Review, and The Wall Street Journal. Frazier has an impressive roster of blue-chip clients, including Adobe, American Express, Boeing, Chevrolet, Deloitte, MasterCard, Mohawk Paper, Navigant, The Royal Mail, U.S. Postal Service, and United Airlines.

He has also designed eight postage stamps, including the beloved 2006 Love stamp and the commemorative Scouting stamps in 2010/11.

Frazier’s artistry goes beyond fulfilling client requests; he illustrates what he feels will make people stop, look, and think. Coffeehaus at COLLINS was a packed event, buzzing with creative energy from like-minded folks. I was fortunate to connect with Frazier at the event and followed up with some questions about his process and the importance of work that invites people in.

(Interview edited for clarity and length).

During your talk, you emphasized the importance of creating an approachable book with meaningful stories rather than just a visually striking but weighty coffee table book. What is the significance of incorporating narrative elements, and how does this approach enhance the reader’s experience? Additionally, how did you strike a balance between narrative and visuals?

It’s not unlike my work. You must invite people in and make them feel welcome. Physically, I wanted the book to have weight yet a manageable footprint. I wanted it to be functional on a desk, in your lap, or on a plane (thus the slightly smaller dimension than many monographs). I wanted it to feel useable, not monumental. There is something intimidating about an oeuvre of someone’s lifetime of work—so I wanted to soften the barrier. The scale of the book, the use of Garamond, and the size and pacing of each illustration contribute to its approachability. My amberliths, sketches, and sketchbooks demystify the process and invite the reader backstage. The idea of narratives woven throughout the book breaks the rhythm and reminds the reader that the illustrations are the products of a greater effort—both conceptually and professionally.

My life experience and my choices inform my work—the two are inextricably connected. I have found the result immeasurably rewarding and hope the work reflects that. This is the part of work life that I wanted to reveal. Things happen. We can’t control everything, but we can lend a guiding hand.  

This book is for the curious. Whether you are a designer or not, revealing the ‘whys’ of my work will alter your understanding of it. My intention is to allow people to see parallels to their own lives and careers, regardless of their profession. We all make choices that shape how we feel about our jobs. I’m curious how creative people make their work and connect their life stories to it. Asking those questions leads to a deeper appreciation and a chance to learn something. I want that experience available to the readers of Drawn.

It is predominantly a visual book, no question. One can enjoy it on that level alone. The written content is micro-dosed to not compete with the visuals but complement and contribute depth.

I draw elements that support the story, not decorate it.

Your work is celebrated for its visual riddles and graphic wit, often embodying both simplicity and depth. How do you balance clarity and complexity in your work, especially when dealing with abstract concepts or visual puzzles?

Simplicity is a guiding principle in all of my work—design or illustration. I subscribe to both the aesthetic and conceptual orientation, so it’s easy to abide by. It works—simplicity serves comprehension in its elegance and functionality. Simplicity is necessary now more than ever when we are all operating at the edge of our visual threshold—it becomes an attractor because it asks less of us. When we overload our messaging (or visuals), it’s at the risk of getting passed by. I stick with singular messaging, which makes for singular illustrations. I draw elements that support the story, not decorate it. Simplicity equals clarity. The more abstract, the simpler the equation must be. If done right, there is beauty in simplicity. Embedding riddles and wit in the illustration brings a smile to the mind. The illustration’s depth is in the reader’s mind—it’s the place the illustration takes them.

When discussing your creative process, you mentioned taking something to the brink and then stepping it back. How do you recognize when you’ve reached that edge, and what factors influence your decision to pull back or further refine your idea?

This question is challenging because I don’t have a specific formula for it—it’s intuitive. The best way to describe it is to say that when I think I have found an angle to tell the story—I then attempt to regulate how the reader discovers the answer within. It’s a matter of leaving breadcrumbs rather than the whole loaf. It’s always a matter of leaving room for a reader to invest time (often only seconds) and mental energy to understand the message. Breadcrumbs also leave room for interpretation, crucial in talking to a larger audience. I’ve learned that people are smarter than we often give them credit for. Clients always want to make sure their readers get it, but in doing so, they often eliminate the fun by over-explaining it. It’s a delicate balance, and I stand my ground with clients. I’ve got a good instinct for it by now.

There is a lot of attention to creativity, how we do it, and the secrets to turning it on. I’ve never paid much attention to that and tried to develop good habits and a problem-solving discipline. If you sign up to be a designer, your job can’t wait until the muse shows up.

Drawn delves into curiosity, self-doubt, and confidence, all of which are common experiences for creatives. How have these themes influenced your journey as a creative? Can you share any personal anecdotes or pivotal moments where you’ve grappled with self-doubt and how you overcame it to push your creative boundaries?

Curiosity is key. We must be curious about what others make and how to inform and inspire our own creativity. We also must be curious about the oddities around us. These are the fuel for ideas. Self-doubt and confidence are opposites, yet both motivate us. Both are necessary to keep the other in check. Self-doubt—however uncomfortable it is—is critical to doing good work and growing. The better our judgment, the easier it is to become complacent and make safe work. I find my own self-doubt to be often an indicator that I’m breaking new ground. We all experience self-doubt because creativity isn’t science—it’s experimental by design. The good news is that with experience, self-doubt wanes and gives way to confidence, and if we are lucky, humility lies right in between both—the most essential element of personal growth.

I frequently have doubts about my work particularly when I’m sketching on assignment. When I give it a little time to breathe and look at the work with fresh eyes, the doubt often subsides. I remind myself that new is often uncomfortable and these are the chances we must take.

There is a lot of attention to creativity, how we do it, and the secrets to turning it on. I’ve never paid much attention to that and tried to develop good habits and a problem-solving discipline. If you sign up to be a designer, your job can’t wait until the muse shows up. Though she does make appearances, we must operate in an ‘always go’ position.

As it relates to ideas, my solution is to keep sketching. It is the cheapest and fastest prototyping method out there. It is a discipline that I have practiced my entire career, and it never fails. Every sketch I make is an experience of seeing something and understanding it better. I have far more unsuccessful sketches than successful ones, but they are not mutually exclusive. You must turn over rocks until you find what you are looking for. I have a confidence in process—the more you produce, the better the chances are of arriving at something new—it’s that simple.

Your work has inspired many aspiring illustrators and designers. You offered the valuable insight that “style comes just as much from your deficiencies as well as your expertise.” Could you elaborate on this concept and explain how embracing one’s shortcomings can contribute to the development of a unique artistic style?

Understanding what we each ‘have to offer’ is an endeavor you can’t suddenly take on one day. It’s an understanding that comes over time and practice. We never fully understand it, but we must move toward it and often get out of its way. That said, we work to develop personally and professionally, and the goal is to find where we can each put a spin on things. Our fingerprints on our work are the characteristics reflective of both our strengths and weaknesses. Our ability to accept both of those—our deficiencies being the toughest—is where our individuality and point of view reside. The world is full of people—and companies—trying to create a mass consumable perception. But—as practitioners—we shouldn’t take that approach. The baseline is to be a good problem-solver. However, the expression and articulation of those solutions can be personal and unique to each of us. Herein lies the risk and the satisfaction. One reason this works is that it is honest and defendable. It’s easier to stand up for our own ideas than it is for others. The second reason is that unique work stands the best chance of being novel in the eyes of the public. As designers, we don’t have to have thousands of clients. We must have enough to support the economy of our practice. I have found that making what I can make and searching for audiences that appreciate my sensibilities is much easier—and more satisfying—than working in the inverse. Differentiation serves the competitive nature of our job.

As designers, we don’t have to have thousands of clients. We must have enough to support the economy of our practice … making what I can make and searching for audiences that appreciate my sensibilities is much easier—and more satisfying—than working in the inverse.

If you want to get your hands on Drawn, which I highly recommend — it’s fantastic; you can order his book here.

Holly Willis is at the helm, bringing her extensive experience that includes pivotal roles at The Escape Pod, FCB, 360i (now Dentsu Creative), and 21st Century Fox. With her deep understanding of the industry’s dynamics and challenges, Willis wants to empower marketers and organizations to craft impactful brands while fostering an inclusive and innovative work environment.

“Magic Camp exists for one group only – the modern marketer,” Willis asserts. The agency’s ethos revolves around prioritizing clients’ needs, offering transparent solutions, and redefining the traditional agency-client relationship model. “Our industry is at an inflection point,” Willis remarks, highlighting the need for a fresh perspective and a departure from outdated practices.

Mandi Bright joins Willis as Chief Creative Officer. Bright brings a wealth of creative insight to Magic Camp and agency chops, which include The Mars Agency, FCB, and Leo Burnett. “Creativity is not just about the work,” Bright emphasizes, “but our approach, processes, and team dynamics.” Magic Camp’s approach to creativity is rooted in strategic agility and a commitment to driving tangible business results for clients.

What sets Magic Camp apart is its dedication to nurturing its team members. Clear growth opportunities and a supportive work culture are integral to Magic Camp’s ethos, enabling its team to thrive and deliver exceptional results. I asked Holly and Mandi about their plans to shake up the advertising culture through Magic Camp.

(This interview has been condensed for length and clarity).

Your new agency name is particularly intriguing; what’s the story behind Magic Camp?

We set out to build a brand around an idea, not around specific people. We wanted the name to encapsulate the ideal, aspirational environment we’re trying to cultivate. Each member of our team and every partner should be able to consistently contribute to defining this environment. Our vision, mission, and values revolve around continual positive improvement and evolution of our work, team members, and operational systems.

Magic Camp embodies this ethos.

“Camp” holds a special place in many people’s hearts – it’s often where children first experience the freedom to explore their imaginations without constraints. At camp, you’re encouraged to learn, embrace bravery, embark on adventures, and have fun. By the end of camp, you’ve made friends, built new skills, and found confidence that positively impacts the rest of your life.

But crucially, at camp, you always do this as a community. We aspire to foster this sense of community, where each member, including our clients, contributes to creating moments of magic. However, you can only experience magic if you believe it exists and you know to look for it.

Given Magic Camp’s emphasis on creativity as a growth accelerator, how do you ensure that your agency’s processes and approaches foster diversity and inclusion within the broader advertising ecosystem?

Fostering inclusion is a critical component of why we started the agency in the first place—we built it into our vision and mission statement. We don’t want diversity and inclusion to be performative, which, unfortunately, has become so pervasive in our industry, particularly in the last few years. Our environment and our operations must be inclusive by design.

To do that, we spent a lot of time researching the systemic issues that make inclusion challenging, nearly impossible, in the traditional agency model. Building our model, we started our operations from scratch and looked at nearly every process with fresh eyes and thinking. Then, we met with inclusion experts throughout our development process to hold us accountable.

We’re small and just getting started, and we recognize that it gives us the benefit of starting over instead of fixing a decades-old issue and navigating a complicated infrastructure. We truly believe that diverse perspectives and experiences lead to better outcomes. So, we must prioritize those perspectives by recruiting differently, elevating diverse employees and partners, and continuing to work with inclusion experts.

With your extensive experience in the industry, how do you actively address and combat entrenched gender biases and stereotypes within Magic Camp and in your interactions with clients?

Inclusion is one of the most important components of our business. It impacts every part of our operational model, which looks radically different from the typical agency. Also, we’re two women who have seen first-hand how the current system puts incredible pressure on marginalized groups to fit into a system that wasn’t designed for them. Many talented people have to leave the system when they go through a significant life change. And this disproportionately impacts minorities and women. Unfortunately, this industry is no longer a business that is known for being able to build a lifelong career AND a rich personal life.

It took a lot of homework and creative problem-solving to create a different model that gives folks the ability to lean in when they’re in career-growth mode but doesn’t penalize you when you want and need more balance. We staff our teams entirely differently and encourage individual-contributor roles instead of forcing management to be the only way you can “move up.” We offer a four-day work week, remote work, sabbaticals for all employees, two weeks of paid vacation before you start, and fully covered insurance. We’re also looking into how we can pay for access to financial experts to help our team members build personal wealth. If we ask our team members to show up consistently at an elite level, we also need to give them the ability to properly rest and recover without sacrificing why they’re working hard in the first place. We recognize that we’ve hired people for a job; it’s not our business to dictate how they live the rest of their lives.

As we build more resources, we plan to invest them back into the growth and success of our whole team instead of only building wealth for the founders or leadership.

If a prospective client, partner, or team member doesn’t believe in these values and how they can successfully impact their own businesses and lives, we’re not a good fit for them. Our model isn’t for everyone, and we’re okay with that.

Given Magic Camp’s focus on redefining the traditional agency-client relationship, how do you believe your approach differs from the conventional agency model?

We started by acknowledging how hard the role of the modern marketer is. A good portion of the advertising industry doesn’t do that, and most relationships begin with unspoken and unacknowledged tension. Instead, we take the same approach as we do to differentiate our clients’ businesses: know why you exist, embrace what makes you different, and take a consumer-first approach. We exist for our clients, the modern marketer, whose role is arguably the most complex within organizations. They want to make a big impact but work in a challenging, ever-changing environment. They must consistently deliver top-line growth to keep their job, let alone “succeed.” We looked at every component of our business through the lens of this client, giving us a lot of clarity. On the surface, the client may be buying the same deliverable, but the process will be vastly different for everyone involved. The ultimate goal is eliminating friction and consistently using creativity as a business multiplier. With that approach, we realized that common internal agency issues and client-agency problems would no longer be significant pain points.

Their success is the reason we exist. So, we designed our processes, deliverables, and communication systems with that in mind. We invite collaboration and share responsibility for decision-making (both good and bad). We sell deliverables, not FTEs and hours. We welcome feedback and have formalized it in our operations so that we can invest and innovate from those data points. Creating connections and building trust is at the forefront of everything we do.

Why did you decide to build Magic Camp from scratch despite your successful careers in established agencies?

Holly Willis: I’m a disruptor at heart, which has made me both an incredible and terrible account person. I’ve always valued creativity – my mom is an artist, my dad is an engineer, and I trained to be an opera singer. But I also love business and am good at math, so I understood that to “move up” in account management, you must be efficient and deliver profit. I was always working to find that balance while still getting great results for our clients. I struggled to find that consistent opportunity in advertising without burning out. But I’ve also continued to love so much of what this industry promises – the ability to positively impact culture and be a part of something that has a lasting impact. And I love so many of the people in this industry.

Then, I had a unique opportunity to rethink the model and design an agency that prioritized people and positive impact. I also had to reevaluate myself and the legacy I wanted to leave behind. Through personal growth and honest reflection, I realized how I benefited from and contributed to perpetuating that model.

Finding someone who shared those same values and passion for the industry was critical when looking for a founding partner. Someone who cares about the group’s success and that people love to work for and with. Someone who builds trust but isn’t afraid to challenge the status quo and me so that we hold each other accountable to the bigger vision and not our egos. And that’s Mandi.

As Magic Camp unfurls its banner, it signals a bright step towards redefining the landscape of advertising agencies.

Portrait photography by Steven Piper. Logo design by Enlisted Design.

Founded in 1972 on the Upper West Side, H&H Bagels has grown from a local favorite to a cultural institution cherished by New Yorkers. With plans to launch numerous new franchised and company-owned locations across the country, the challenge was clear: modernize the brand while staying true to its New York roots and appealing to a broader demographic.

As H&H Bagels prepares for a nationwide expansion, it has turned to the expertise of High Tide, a renowned New York City-based creative studio specializing in brand identity. High Tide is no stranger to building NYC fast-casual/dining brands, known for its work with Dig Inn, Sweet Chick, Mexicue, and many others. The goal: extend a warm invitation to people across America to indulge in the authentic taste of a New York City bagel.

We saw it as a huge responsibility to bring an iconic local institution to everyone in a way that showcases what makes NY culture so special.

Danny Miller, Founder and Creative Director, High Tide

For High Tide, the opportunity to reimagine H&H Bagels held personal significance. “This project brought back memories from my childhood of stopping by H&H on my way to Central Park,” explains High Tide’s Founder and Creative Director, Danny Miller. “We saw it as a huge responsibility to bring an iconic local institution to everyone in a way that showcases what makes NY culture so special.”

The transformation began with a new visual identity, encompassing everything from the website and packaging to signage and interior design elements for each physical location. The logo, featuring clean custom lettering set against a redesigned version of the original seal, strikes a balance between modernity and homage to the past.

Typography, photography, and color were carefully curated to convey a sense of accessibility and premium quality. A mix of serif, sans serif, and script typefaces adds depth and character, while vibrant pops of color inject energy and excitement into the brand’s visual language.

Jay Rushin, CEO at H&H Bagels, acknowledges the significance of this evolution: “As we embark on a new chapter with our national expansion, enhancing our visual identity was essential to delivering an elevated experience for our customers.” Miller adds, “Wherever someone experiences H&H, the brand should stand out – welcoming others to feel the excitement of eating a classic NYC bagel.”

With High Tide’s expertise, H&H Bagels is poised to captivate taste buds and hearts across the country, all while preserving the essence of a beloved New York institution.

In the process of rebranding, JOAN recognized the multitude of stories yet told. While striving for a gender-neutral system, they also acknowledge the intrinsic role gender plays in shaping its identity. A creative agency led by women is still a rarity in an industry largely dominated by men. Yet, JOAN thrives, boasting experience, passion, and leadership across advertising, design, production, and media.

Led by Anjela Freyja, JOAN’s internal design team crafted a visual identity reflecting the agency’s fighting spirit and commitment to growth and inclusivity. The new brand captures JOAN’s expressive, daring, crafted, relevant, and visionary DNA, appealing to corporate clients and cultural influencers.

• Soulful: Two warm, accessible, and friendly typefaces and candid office and project photography capturing the agency’s direct communication style
• Daring: An edgy, bold, highly-saturated color palette
• Crafted: A technical gridded design system that prioritizes attention to detail and technique communicates their craft expertise
• Relevant: Contemporary digital design, animation, and 3D techniques that flex the team’s savvy and knowledge and highlight the agency’s cultural relevance
• Visionary: A sharp logo inspired by Joan of Arc’s iconic sword, paying homage to the namesake and the origin of the agency’s name

The design elements, including warm typography, bold colors, technical design systems, and nods to cultural relevance, are complemented by sleek metal materials, reflecting JOAN’s bold personality. This new identity serves as a framework for their global expansion.

Beyond the expected updates to its website and social channels, JOAN’s rebrand includes unique collaborations such as one-of-a-kind merch with Ray’s NYC. While the brand draws inspiration from Joan of Arc, it also esteems other influential figures, embodying a commitment to storytelling and community engagement.

JOAN’s new brand identity is more than just a logo change; it celebrates its past, present, and future, honoring the diverse voices and talents of the JOAN community. Like those who came before them, they embrace their collective history, experiences, and talents, committed to sharing meaningful stories with the world. As they boldly declare, “We are JOAN.”

Founded in November 2006 by a team of insurance experts, Go.Compare has long been recognized for its meticulous approach to comparing various products and services, including insurance policies, financial products, energy tariffs, and more. Unlike traditional comparison sites, Go.Compare distinguished itself by prioritizing the display of policy details alongside prices, setting a new standard in the industry.

Over the years, Go.Compare’s mission has evolved while remaining steadfast in its commitment to providing reliable and comprehensive comparisons. The company has cultivated a vast network of trusted partners, ensuring users can access a wide range of reputable options. Authorized and regulated by the Financial Conduct Authority (equivalent to the SEC in the US), Go.Compare offers users peace of mind in their decision-making process.

The rebrand signifies a strategic step forward for Go.Compare, solidifying its reputation as a dependable ally for consumers while injecting a burst of new life and character into the brand.

Go.Compare’s standout feature is its accessibility. The service is free for users, a testament to the company’s dedication to empowering consumers with transparent information.

Unlike others, Go.Compare doesn’t just list options; it serves up choices that are genuinely beneficial for users, placing their interests at the forefront,” says Max Ottignon, co-founder of Ragged Edge. “So we amplified that difference, positioning Go.Compare as the Champions of Choice.”

With an impressive 97% awareness rate, the recent rebranding initiative aims to capitalize on the website’s recognition and attract even more users. At the core of Ragged Edge’s rebrand is a genuine point of differentiation: Go.Compare is the sole comparison site accredited by BIBA (British Insurance Brokers’ Association), emphasizing trustworthiness in every recommendation.

“Ragged Edge worked closely with every part of our business to ensure they understood exactly what our aspirations were and how we wanted to evolve in the future,” says Paul Rogers, Marketing Director at Go.Compare. “Insurance can be heavy going – a grudge purchase. Ragged Edge has made it fun and rewarding. The rebrand has helped us to evolve visually and strategically and given us an even stronger sense of purpose, authority, and momentum as we continue to provide transparency and support for customers across a broad range of complex products.”

Central to the rebrand is the iconic figure of Gio Compario, Go.Compare’s beloved mascot. Gio, portrayed with exaggerated features in charming cartoon form, serves as the brand’s “choice champion,” advocating for users across every aspect of the Go.Compare experience.

In collaboration with artist Rami Niemi, the rebrand introduces an illustrative style that breathes life into the brand’s insurance products, departing from conventional stock imagery to offer a fresh, engaging visual narrative.

Complementing the visual overhaul is a new verbal identity – “the voice of choice” – characterized by relatable wit that resonates with customers. A custom-designed typeface adds warmth and character, reinforcing the brand’s distinctive personality.

The rebrand, designed to be instantly recognizable and scalable, ensures maximum visibility and engagement across various platforms. Ragged Edge’s collaboration with Go.Compare extends to the brand’s high-profile sponsorship of the Wales rugby union team, further solidifying its presence in the public eye.

The rebranding of Extreme Reach to XR signifies more than a name change; it represents a bold reach into the future. XR partnered with brand studio Athletics to create an identity embodying purposeful momentum and enlightened performance driven by insight. The new identity reflects a modernist aesthetic infused with imagination, drawing inspiration from diverse sources, including fashion, skincare, film culture, and research consultancies.

XR’s distinctive logomark, centered around the letter “X,” is the nucleus of the rebrand. The mark symbolizes versatility and intelligence. It breathes through subtle animations, adding a dynamic element that mirrors XR’s forward-thinking ethos. Including a transitional asset incorporating the entire Extreme Reach wordmark ensures continuity during the brand transition.

The approach to color is highly differentiated, evoking warmth and boldness. With its analog, tactile feel, the color palette instantly distinguishes XR. In photography, the accentuated blur captures the essence of motion and dynamism, reinforcing XR’s commitment to progress and forward momentum.

The expanded visual system utilizes dynamic, generative patterns composed of language and letterforms to create a variety of motifs and textures. XR has developed a custom tool that generates on-brand patterns with minimal input to ensure consistency and scalability, empowering its team to scale the brand efficiently.

The supergraphic, featuring enlarged letterforms from the logomark’s “X,” is a versatile framing device. Beyond its aesthetic appeal, the supergraphic plays a crucial role in building equity and recognition for XR’s newly abbreviated brand name, reinforcing its identity across various touchpoints.

Video, UI, and animation are integral to XR’s storytelling strategy, illustrating the entire production process from ideation to outcome. Graphic elements overlaid on video provide insightful annotation, highlighting XR’s understanding of the industry and its role in facilitating seamless implementation.

XR’s rebrand marks a significant milestone in its journey. With its forward-thinking identity and cutting-edge technology, XR is poised to continue shaping the future of entertainment, driving productions forward with insights and creativity. 

Another groovy project done by Athletics was their recent rebranding of the Seattle Sounders.

The west-coast-based brand strategy and interactive studio People People is committed to helping companies across the Northwest and beyond discover and tell their stories — and have been doing so for over 20 years.

The brief from Thorntail was clear: create a visual identity as light, energetic, and uplifting as the beverage itself. People People’s solution? An abstract illustration of a thorntail hummingbird, complemented by a script typeface and tones of teal influenced by the Blue Weber agave plant.

Thorntail defies categorization—it’s not quite a seltzer or tequila, but something entirely new. This presented both a challenge and an opportunity. Rather than following the usual tropes of the market, People People sought to break away from the norm and communicate the product’s uniqueness.

The packaging needed to feel fresh, vibrant, and invigorating, mirroring the attributes of the beverage. Inspired by the Blue Weber agave plant, the brand’s light and dark teal blues evoke a brightness that reflects Thorntail’s refreshing taste. Maintaining color consistency across all packaging was a strategic move to bolster brand recognition, a departure from the common practice of changing backgrounds per flavor.

Drawing inspiration from Thorntail’s namesake—the thorntail hummingbird—People People created an abstract illustration of the bird, symbolizing upward flight for an uplifting feel. A script typeface inspired by the hummingbird’s graceful movements adds a touch of elegance to the brand’s visual identity.

‘Hard Agave’ or ‘Fermented Hard Agave’ is prominently displayed alongside the logo and product name to intrigue consumers. With limited packaging space for detailed information, Thorntail’s website serves as a hub for in-depth education, featuring a playful infographic detailing the production journey of hard agave from farm to can.

People People’s creative approach ensures that Thorntail Hard Agave stands out on the shelves and resonates with consumers seeking a unique and refreshing experience. In a market saturated with choices, Thorntail’s brand identity soars above the rest as a beacon of originality.

The central idea behind the updated brand is encapsulated in the phrase “Do right by nature,” highlighting NYBG’s commitment to studying, protecting, learning from, and enjoying nature. It serves as a call to action and recognizes NYBG’s leading role in environmental stewardship.

The new brand voice mirrors the tone and spirit of New York and the Bronx, embodying optimism, empathy, and purpose. It aims to convey NYBG’s enthusiasm for the natural world, promote inclusivity, and demonstrate expertise.

A redesigned logo emphasizes the NYBG abbreviation in a bolder, more contemporary style, blending the essence of New York City with the Garden’s natural beauty. The typography, featured in our 2024 Typography Report, draws inspiration from hand-drawn natural forms, symbolizing confidence and impact.

Curious about the strategy behind the project, I spoke with Jane Boynton, senior creative director, and Ana Camargo, lead strategist of Wolff Olins. NYBG’s CMO, Michael Crowley, also weighed in. Our conversation is below (edited for length and clarity).

With a vision of deepening community connections while expanding environmental action, what specific elements of the brand refresh aim to strengthen local ties while also addressing global environmental concerns?

AC: The former identity, while elegant, had some cues of a “white box gallery” — where maybe not everyone feels welcome, and not everyone feels seen—places where you usually can’t touch the art. The Garden is such a sensory experience. So we wanted to make sure that in the evolution of the brand, we created a platform in which many different audiences could feel welcome, connected, and seen in the brand. Addressing those issues locally helps us tackle them from a global perspective.

We also wanted to reclaim the fact that this is a New York cultural institution and own that with pride. So, as we thought about the tone of voice being more approachable and empathetic, we also wanted it to be deliberate. We wanted it to be a straight shooter, like New Yorkers are, and residents of the Bronx.

We want NYBG to feel like everyone can own it, from the neighbors to the trustees, the board of directors, and the investors. We created the brand to flex according to all those audiences, from the neighbors to the people who visit the Garden physically, the people who visit online, the people who do research connected to the Garden, and the trustees.

The brand refresh includes a new logo that unites the spirit of New York City with the natural beauty of the Garden. How does the new logo, with its references to natural forms, reflect the personality and impact of NYBG?

JB: The old logo already stood for the ongoing impact on preservation the brand was actively doing and its participation within the local community. So we didn’t want to throw those associations away. We’d like to think that we took the previous logo and amplified it.

Our big, beautiful idea for the New York Botanical Garden is this concept of doing right by nature. Unpacking that idea, the ‘do right’ refers to the active state of the organization, the call to action, the study of nature, the protection of it, the enjoyment of it, and the learning from it. That ‘do right’ is expressed through the boldness of the letter forms. They evoke a sense of confidence that speaks to the organization’s impact and leadership. 

The boldness also speaks to nature. Think about when nature is at its best, and it’s thriving, it’s lush, and it’s rich, and it’s full of form. It’s not skinny. That boldness speaks to where we want nature to be in that thriving state. That boldness is also a nod to the spirit and attitude of New York and the Bronx. We are New Yorkers, and our boldness and confidence in that sense of being direct is part of what identifies us.

Bringing all of these things together, we’re hoping the new logo unites that iconic spirit of New York with the natural beauty of the Garden, paired with the active nature of the people behind the organization fighting against climate change and biodiversity loss.

AC: What I also love, of all the things that Jane has already mentioned, is the ‘doing’ – the action – and the ‘by nature’, which has this beautiful idea of side by side with nature. It’s not behind nature. It’s not in front of nature. It’s not that nature is leading, and we need to follow. We wanted to convey a symbiotic relationship. Because I think part of why we’ve gotten into this environmental mess is because humans have forgotten that we are nature.

Doing right’ is everything the Garden does: taking that perspective of the plants and doing right by them, speaking for them, researching them, and bringing their wisdom and intelligence to life.

The photography is from nature’s perspective, ranging from intimate to immersive shots. How does this POV contribute to telling the story of NYBG, and how does it create a more engaging and immersive experience for visitors?

JB: This element in the toolkit was already working hard for the client. The Garden really invests in photography. They have a photographer on staff and an incredible library of stunning images.

So, our task was more about how we can better align the photography moving forward with this idea of ‘do right by nature.’ Photography offers the opportunity to amplify that wonder in nature and its ability to teach, guide, and inspire us

For the style of the photography, we drew on a diverse set of different angles and perspectives, which allowed us to capture more surprising and unexpected views of all the plants, people, and the place. And more specifically, it’s from nature’s angle or perspective. What would nature’s perspective be if we’re embodying ‘do right by nature’? How would a bird see the Garden? We put nature behind the lends to try to capture the spirit and vitality of this wonderful place and how being here can shift all of our perspectives.

AC: This is a really important point. It’s also part of the evolution we considered because if we’re thinking about that shift, to remember that we’re all part of nature, photography that focuses on the plants and the fungi, it’s easy to forget that we’re part of the same system. As Jane said, that was a vital element to bring the people back in to make all those audiences feel seen and part of that environment.

How do you see the updated brand identity actively contributing to and supporting ecological initiatives? How can a strong brand presence influence public perception and participation in sustainability efforts?

AC: Our client was already doing so many amazing things. Our job was to take those actions, enhance them, and amplify them. As we expand the brand to be more empathetic, welcoming, deliberate in how it shows up, proud, and more New York and the Bronx, that platform can strengthen the brand’s presence and put more weight behind it.

Then, NYBG can use that weight behind its sustainability initiatives. We wanted to make sure that more people care about the environment and engage in sustainability initiatives as they’re drawn into the new brand.

Sometimes, when you see brands or NGOs showing up, the discourse focuses on the things that you need to lose for the planet to gain or for the planet to thrive. We wanted to make sure that NYBG communicates in such a way that doesn’t revolve around what any of us has to give up for the planet to continue functioning. It’s about what we can all gain in a more sustainable life, in a more conscious way of being on this planet. We wanted to bring more folks into that conversation through beauty, abundance, and through that lens of what is there for all of us to gain.

What was the most interesting thing you experienced working through this rebrand with the New York Botanical Garden while developing this project?

JB: I represent a lot of the general public in the area in that I didn’t realize there was all this incredible research and rigor behind the organization. I only saw NYBG as a place, as an experience to visit the train or the orchid show. I didn’t realize that behind all of that are these incredible climate and science research efforts. And it’s very inspiring. It’s what makes NYBG unique and different. And to Ana’s point, it is the reason to get people to care. And so that was a big, eye-opening moment when I understood the full breadth of this organization.

AC: So it’s not just a visual transformation by any means. It’s a way to signal to the world all of these amazing things NYBG has been thinking about and putting into practice as an organization and will continue to accelerate over the next few years.

How does the ‘Do right by nature’ idea translate into practical initiatives or programs within the NYBG’s mission and activities?

MC: ‘Do right by nature’ reflects NYBG’s longstanding commitment to plants, fungi, and the natural world. Since our founding in 1891, our mission and activities have centered around three pillars — science, horticulture, and education — that bring plants and people together. We’re helping nature to thrive so that humanity can thrive.

Branching Out, our strategic plan for 2024-2030 includes longstanding NYBG programs and new initiatives to help us achieve five goals, all of which serve people, plants, and the planet. Bronx-centric programs serve our local community through projects such as Bronx Green-Up, which supports hundreds of community gardens, urban farms, and school gardens across the borough, and Bronx Neighbors, which provides free access to our grounds for residents. As a cultural destination in NYC, we help people to find peace and well-being in our natural oasis. Educational programs bring children close to nature from a young age to incubate the environmentalists of tomorrow. And our scientific research programs are re-centered through a lens of environmental action, focusing our diverse efforts around goals addressing the dual climate and biodiversity crisis.

What initiatives is NYBG undertaking to more fully engage with climate and biodiversity crises? How does the new brand inspire public engagement and action towards a sustainable and biodiverse future?

MC: New initiatives include the program for Urban Conservation Strategy, a research and engagement platform that will engage with local and international non-profit and research partners to advance urban resilience and assist decision-makers across New York City— and in cities around the world. The Bronx River Watershed Health & Resilience Program will be a collaboration between our scientists, horticulturists, and local partners to develop local outreach and plant-based strategies to improve our local ecosystem. We will prioritize high-impact research collaborations across various areas where our researchers have expertise, including nature conservation, restoration, and sustainable agriculture. We are committed to pursuing botanical and fungal research with applications that will serve the planet. The new brand foregrounds NYBG Science with its own style treatment, which draws attention to the incredible research conducted by our scientists. Overall, our new positioning as “plant people” creates a more cohesive identity for our entire staff and programs, uniting science, horticulture, and education experts to apply all of our resources to the broader mission of doing right by nature.

The new brand identity is described as an active, bold, and welcoming presence that connects and inspires. How does the brand aim to foster a sense of connection to nature and the NYBG mission among diverse audiences, including current and future generations?

MC: Every aspect of the new brand identity—from the logo to the color palette to the brand voice—was designed to celebrate science and nature and to create a more welcoming and vibrant experience for our guests. The refreshed logo takes inspiration from iconic New York City designers and institutions, but you’ll also find nods to nature hidden within. The logo and our new custom typeface, NY Botanical Gothic, are full of organic shapes and draw inspiration from posters from the environmental movement of the 1960s and ‘70s. We also created a special logo treatment to represent NYBG Science, signifying our scientists’ microscopic view of the plant world.

The colors we use in our new branding are inspired by nature and named after various plants and fungi. Our vibrant color palette is more welcoming and, in combination with the bold typeface, draws visitors in to learn more. It’s a reflection of the biodiversity found on our grounds and represents our diverse city and the borough we call home. After all, the Bronx is NYC’s greenest borough! Our brand reflects the Garden’s 133-year history while looking ahead to a bright and botanical future. NYBG is so many things for so many people – a place of respite in a concrete jungle, a place for cutting-edge scientific research, a place to experience art and culture – and our new brand embraces each of these roles, not just for today, but for the generations of purposeful plant people that follow.

The recently released 2024 PRINT Typography report speaks to an intense balancing act between legacy and future impact of typefaces. This renewed identity for NYBG is evidence of this consideration, with a custom wordmark that is a confident, bold, and impactful embodiment of the organization’s call to action.

You aren’t alone if you’ve ever responded with ‘huh?’ to someone speaking International Art English at you, or felt icky about the unspoken social capital at work at a gallery opening, or found yourself struggling to come up with the correct answer to ‘But, what do you see?’ when standing in front of a painting or sculpture.

The promise to confirm all my sneaking suspicions propelled me into the story. Many moments provide red meat for my inner judge, not least of which was Bosker’s hoop-jumping first assignment as a Brooklyn gallery assistant and her expectations around her first Art Basel Miami. But alongside this look at the art glitterati under a microscope is a softer, more personal story about a woman yearning to understand why art is so important. Why did Bosker’s grandmother teach art in a displaced persons camp in Austria after World War II? Why do world cultures honor art as essential as air, food, and shelter? Why do artists toil away in their studios for years in obscurity with little financial reward? When artists do ‘make’ it, why do they put up with the incredible heaps of bullshit from the art-capital machine?

This why is the essence of Bosker’s research in Get The Picture. I sat down with her to discuss the book, and we veered into art, writing, and life. Our interview is condensed for length and clarity.

Reading Get The Picture, I was struck by how untouchable and unknowable the art world is, and I couldn’t help but draw parallels to the publishing industry. As a writer, did your immersion change how you view your place in your industry and the process that writers go through? 

So much about the world is magnified by the art world: the way we judge quality, the extreme wealth disparities, and the power of gatekeepers.

I went into this process to develop me eye, to learn to see the world the way hyper-obsessed art fiends look at it. I wanted an answer to how a work of art goes from being the germ of an idea in someone’s studio to a masterpiece that we ooh and ahh over in a museum? I learn by doing, and so my way of learning was to throw myself in, to insert myself into the nerve center of the art world. It’s very different to listen to someone describe how they sell an artwork from schmoozing with billionaires for a week at an art fair and selling a $9000 photograph in the backseat of an Uber while people are doing cocaine around you.

Observing all the power plays behind the scenes, I couldn’t help but reflect on my own industry.

I learned that all the decisions that shape an artwork are all the decisions that shape us: what we define as art, who can make art, and why should we bother to engage with it? Throughout this process, my relationship with art changed but my relationship with everything else changed as well. 

I hope that Get The Picture empowers people to develop their eye and trust themselves. And if we do that, then that has implications far beyond the art world. My hope is that people reading this book, whether they are in finance, or publishing, or simply developing a new recipe, is that it will spark them to think more expansively, but also to think more for themselves.

You mentioned it just now: the question of, well, “What is art?” Someone has to define it, right? 

The intimidation we feel is not an accident. I got an intimate look at how the art world wields strategic snobbery to build mystique and keep people out. Based on what the art world advertises about itself, I expected to find this group of open-minded iconoclasts who wanted to share the magic of art with as many people as possible. But I encountered the clubby elitism that I associate with stodgy country clubs. Case in point: I worked for someone who encouraged me to get a makeover, rethink how I spoke and dressed, and rethink my “overly enthusiastic” personality. He wanted me to address what he saw as my fatal uncoolness. But you can also see this in how galleries hide themselves on the second floor of nondescript buildings. The way that art aficionados use this unnecessarily complex, made-up language of art speak. The way that gallery professionals judge you even more than you judge the work. All of this contributes to this deliberate gatekeeping.

Through tracing the history of the museum, I was surprised that these seemingly “public” institutions have historically had mixed feelings about letting in the general public. Deliberately or accidentally, the art world erects these barriers to preserve power in the hands of gatekeepers, to preserve the mystique, and to preserve it as the playground of an anointed few. Getting to see all of this helped me feel validated. The art world is doing anything but rolling out the welcome mat for the “Schmoletariat.”*

[*Joe Schmoes, aka Schmoes, is the term for the rest of us. Bosker first learned this term from the same gallerist who had suggested a makeover.]

We’ve been told for the last 100 years that everything that matters about a work of art is THE IDEA. This outsized importance on context has effectively put up a barrier to anyone engaging with works of art. Gallerists I met offered data points, often “a cloud of names,” such as where an artist went to school, the social capital of the artist, who their friends are, and even who the artist has slept with.

Being a museum guard at the Guggenheim made me rethink my relationship with art history and museums. I’d always thought of them as these unimpeachable custodians of the best culture had to offer, and working in galleries and museums shook my faith in that idea. You come to understand that that piece over there is only in the show because one person or collector forced it to go in. Or that a curator took a rich person by the elbow through an art fair and then said collector bought two copies of a piece and sent one to the museum collection. What we see in these hallowed halls of culture is not necessarily the “best” but the result of a series of decisions by flawed individuals who are all like us – read subjective. 

Ultimately, when you see what’s at play, it loses a little bit of its power. Everything you need to have a meaningful relationship with art is right in front of you.

My hope is that people reading this book, whether they are in finance, or publishing, or simply developing a new recipe, is that it will spark them to think more expansively, but also to think more for themselves.

Bianca Bosker

How did this experience change the way you engage with art?

As I worked with Julie Curtiss in her studio, I realized that an idea is not a painting. Making art is practically athletic. It is a bloody business; you must wrestle with the laws of gravity. Following an artist’s decisions offers us a path into the piece. 

One artist encouraged me to notice five things about an artwork. They don’t need to be big. It could be as simple as “I wish I could lick that green” or “that corner of the canvas seems unfinished.” This process also lends itself to slowing down and ignoring the wall text. 

Art is a practice for appreciating life, but art is also a practice for creating a life worth appreciating. Art teaches me to open myself up to the beauty and surprise of everyday life.

We can have that experience of art where our mind jumps the curb.

Bianca Bosker

I loved your relationship with Julie (Curtiss). You describe her expansive mindset; her apartment full of her artwork, other artists’ work, and stuff she’s found along the side of the road and elevated as ‘sculpture.’ Can you talk about what you got from working with Julie in her studio?

Julie changed my life. One thing I appreciated about her was that she taught me how to look at the world with an art mindset. When you do that, the world opens itself up to you. 

I’d always thought of art as a luxury. Yet artists behave as if art is something absolutely essential. But, I was surprised to find that scientists were right there with them, calling it a fundamental part of our humanity. As one biologist said, “as necessary as food or sex.” One scientific idea that intrigued me was that “art can help us fight the reducing tendencies of our minds.” Vision is a hallucination. Our eyes are different, and the data we take in is paltry. Our brains proactively compress, filter, and dismiss the data before we get the whole picture. Art helps us lift our filters of expectation, allowing us to take in the full nuance and chaos of the world around us.

Lifting this filter, like Julie, exposes us to a great nuance of experience, but we can also see art where we never did before. And we can have that experience of art where our mind jumps the curb. 

Let’s spend less time looking at so-called masterpieces and more time looking at underappreciated art that surprises us. It’s difficult, if not impossible, to fix all the flaws in the machine, but we can begin to build a better art world by broadening our horizons about what we choose to go and look at.

Julie taught me that art can emerge when we slow down, when we question, when we lift our filter of expectation, and when we look at something and wonder about it.

Beauty is a moment that nudges us to wonder about the world and our place in it.

Bianca Bosker

How did your relationship with color change? It blew me away when you talked about your experience at the Visual Science of Art Conference in Belgium. 

So much of what we understand of vision science was discovered by artists before scientists discovered it. These historical divisions are more flexible than we currently think.

Vision has always been celebrated as the most trustworthy of the senses. We’re told that good data comes from our eyes. I was shocked to learn that vision is a hallucination. I didn’t realize how slippery color is—it’s befuddling but also a gift. I became enchanted with color and by this concept of color constancy. Color is a great place to feel your filter of expectation at work. 

My love affair with color has only intensified. I’ve started wearing more color. Color spotting has become a hobby. The other day, I was on the subway, and rather than pull out my phone, I watched the ticklish orange of the seats, and it was a delight. It was like eating a delicious snack. I’d never thought of color having that hedonistic dimension, but it does. My two-year-old son is currently learning colors, and I think I’m confusing him. I can’t unsee the variety in colors that might live in the middle. While he sees blue, I see more green. But I’m not going to correct him. When it comes to color constancy, who actually knows what color it is? This knowledge has given me some humility.

So, what did you learn from AllFIRE (the performance artist who sat on your face)? The thought of it scandalized me. At the same time, if art is supposed to get us slightly off-balance and spark questions about our thinking, our biases, and our outmoded ways of thought, then, by that token, AllFIRE is art on steroids. I appreciated the internal conversation you invited readers to have with themselves.

Art doesn’t have to be a physical object. It can be a behavior. Art is a handshake between the viewer and the creator. 

The night in question, I did not leave my house that evening expecting to be sat on by a nearly naked stranger. Weirdly, my mind went to my fictional future political career, and I felt nervous and concerned. To my surprise, I was very much at peace once she was on my face. Afterward, I felt intensely conflicted and intrigued. As I engaged deeper with her work, it took me to an interesting place. Her work hits at the definition of art. It taught me to look for art in places I didn’t expect to see it and helped me see it in places I didn’t anticipate. Everyone can have an opinion about AllFIRE’s work (not just in the art world). It’s accessible. Her work caused me to think so deeply in ways that many abstract sculptures or more obvious art forms did not. Her work is not uncontroversial. It’s not easy. And it’s not for everyone. But, I hope that people go through this journey with me from thinking it’s absurd and, by the end, happy that she helped you consider these questions. That’s a gift that can knock our brains off their well-worn pathways and let the universe jostle our souls.

At the beginning of the book, you fondly mention your grandmother’s watercolor of carrots. Do you have a different relationship with her carrots after going through this experience?

For me, it brings up our relationship with beauty. Beauty has become a dirty word—in the art world, in elite society. There’s an idea that beauty is corrupted, frivolous, and a waste of time. That it’s old-fashioned. I came to feel differently about beauty. It’s essential. It’s not something that can be found in a color, a shape, or morality. Beauty is a moment that nudges us to wonder about the world and our place in it. Beauty is something that pulls us close and pulls us deeper into life. 

With that, there’s a value in challenging our idea of beauty. One of art’s gifts is the ability to stretch our ability to see beauty in places we never thought to look. 

Regarding my grandmother, I wonder how she’d answer these questions for herself if she were alive. The way she turned to art when the world was turning itself inside out speaks to the primacy of art in our lives.

While initially exciting, the Air India facelift took an unexpected turn by opting to sideline historical nuances in favor of positioning the airline within the ‘global market’. The rebrand seems to turn away from what could have been a very significant change. Travel is a market that feels akin to quicksand, undergoing constant change, where preferences oscillate between consumers and corporations, and budgets redefine scopes overnight. Designers face the intricate task of delicately balancing brand legacy with the desire for a new and innovative approach. The Air India rebrand prompts us to explore not only the transformation of a logo and wordmark but also the deeper implications of cultural distinction being turned into consumable morsels for the West in the name of progress. 

Founded by JRD Tata, an industrialist, entrepreneur, and India’s first commercial pilot license-holder, Air India (originally known as Tata Airlines) established itself as an independent company in the country’s aviation sector, launching its first aircraft in 1933.If you came of age in India during the early ’90s, the aviation scene was characterized by simplicity, with only a handful of airlines dominating the skies. Among them stood the Maharaja mascot of Air India, first conceived in 1946 by Bobby Kooka, Air India’s commercial director, and illustrated by Umesh Rao, an artist at J. Walter Thompson. Characterized by a potbelly, distinctive oversized curled mustache, sharp nose, striped turban, and a calm expression, he stood as a symbol of the nation’s hospitality etched into every Indian’s memory forever. The identity before the rebrand showcased the Flying Swan silhouette and the Konark wheel within, complemented by a deep red wordmark and Devanagari script. It marked Air India’s distinctive presence in the aviation sector and encapsulated an era when air travel was a novel and privileged experience—a time when aviation in India was synonymous with wonder and wealth.

Initially establishing itself as an independent entity, Air India bloomed in India’s aviation sector before being acquired by the Government of India in 1948. After operating under government ownership for roughly 70 years, Air India was reacquired by the Tata Group in 2022. In December 2023, Tata announced the rollout of a new global brand identity for Air India, led by the London, UK, office of Futurebrand in collaboration with its Mumbai counterpart. The rebrand also seems like a valid step to distance itself from the negative pushback accumulated during decades of government management. But, the agency charged with redesigning one of the oldest airlines in India was left with a research task that must have been both daunting and exhaustive.

Air India’s historic fleet of iconic Boeing 747s, nicknamed “Your Palace In The Sky,” featured interiors curated by Tata himself. The fleet epitomized luxury travel’s golden age, with the renowned Maharaja Lounges and a first-class cabin adorned with Indian motifs, vibrant bandhani print uniforms, Gupta period art, murals from the Ajanta caves, and Kashmiri textile patterns. The white facade and red ‘jharokha’ windows became a signature. Air India was known for amalgamating heritage and meticulous design.

While the history of the aircraft featured so many elements to draw inspiration from, the new identity seems to limit itself. The updated logo and livery feature a revised color palette, and typeface and the airline’s mascot now assumes a predominantly subdued role confined to the premium classes. As a component of the rebranding effort, the airline has launched a fresh website and app, along with initiatives such as round-the-clock customer service, full lounge access for premium passengers, and a revamped loyalty program.

The logo underwent a major overhaul, replacing the previous red swan and Konark Chakra with a gold window frame symbolizing a ‘Window of Possibilities.’ The wordmark appears impressive along the entire length of the fuselage. While the custom type family designed in collaboration with Fabio Haag Type, Air India Sans, is a crisp addition to the identity. The new visual system features deep red, aubergine, and gold hues, along with a chakra-inspired pattern and the main element i.e., ‘The Vista’ graphics.

Inspired by the 747’s jharokha window, the Vista graphics use the window as a framing device. Though neatly executed as an animation, the gradients and chakra patterns seem force-fed into the system. The sarees, designed by celebrity designer Manish Malhotra, are sharp and don’t dilute the essence or authenticity of the uniform but rather transform it.

While the new identity aims to position Air India as a globally recognized brand, some critics argue that it might have diluted its distinct cultural elements. Introducing a more minimalist logo, featuring a gold window frame, deviated from traditional symbols like the red swan and Konark Chakra, potentially disconnecting from the airline’s rich heritage. The shift in the mascot’s role, with the Maharaja appearing predominantly in premium classes, signaled a departure from its historical international prominence. 

The public reaction to the Air India rebranding in India has been a mixed bag. While some individuals appreciate the airline’s efforts to change its image, others have criticized the changes for potentially disregarding cultural nuances. Positive feedback emphasizes the modern and vibrant aesthetic, considering it a step towards aligning with global standards. However, there are concerns about the potential loss of the airline’s distinctive identity and whether the rebranding adequately honors its rich history.

When comparing Air India’s rebranding with other global airlines, it becomes evident that the pursuit of global standards often leads to a certain level of homogenization in identity. In an interesting development, the new branding of Air India bears a resemblance to another airline, Vistara, also owned by Tata. This similarity is not coincidental, as Tata Sons and Singapore Airlines have agreed to consolidate Air India and Vistara by March 2024. This consolidation highlights the challenge of maintaining distinct brand identities while aligning with global standards in an industry marked by increasing convergence.

In an article titled ‘Are rebrands starting to look the same?’ writer Elizabeth Goodspeed phrased it right “While designers might debate the intricacies of truly unique branding, beneath these immediate concerns, there’s an underlying truth: what’s seen as popular often holds a key to broader appeal and effectiveness.” The tension between global aspirations and cultural preservation is a challenge faced by many companies seeking international recognition. Air India’s rebranding reflects a broader trend where the quest for global standards (aka recognition from the West) poses challenges in maintaining cultural nuances. Air India’s rebrand underscores the delicate balance required to navigate growth strategies while preserving the unique cultural fabric that defines its identity.

Roshita Thomas is a writer, designer, and business development manager. She previously worked with Porto Rocha as the Operations and New Business Associate and as the Editorial Assistant for Oculus Magazine with the American Institute of Architects. She graduated with a Master’s Degree in Design Research Writing and Criticism from SVA shortly after which she worked with Buck alongside the resourcing team.

Banner image licensed from Unsplash+

Traditionally filled with money and given as tokens of good wishes, red packets are integral to Chinese New Year celebrations. The Year of the Dragon holds special significance, symbolizing success, honor, and dignity — believed to bring growth, progress, and abundance.

The Secret Little Agency created the Long Bao to celebrate this auspicious year. A play on words, the name is derived from the pronunciation of the Chinese character for dragon, which is ‘lóng’ or ‘loong.’

This dragon year, we decided to extend the red packet and make it long-er.

The Secret Little Agency

Nodding to a rich tradition, The Long Bao also serves up some humor and a contemporary aesthetic, making the symbol of good fortune a unique gift.

This limited edition creation captures the Chinese New Year’s essence and exemplifies The Secret Little Agency’s commitment to creativity and innovation. Founded in 2009, The Secret Little Agency remains the only creative agency in Singapore to be named both Independent and Creative Agency of the Year multiple times in the last decade.

With only 1000 pieces available in this exclusive run, the agency plans to distribute them to friends and partners in Singapore and worldwide. Intrigued? Request your own Long Bao with an email to The Secret Little Agency.

In this dynamic landscape of digital tax filing, Taxfix has emerged as Europe’s leading mobile tax platform, alleviating people’s fears about taxes and finances while making complex tax systems accessible to everyone. With a proven track record of generating over three billion euros in tax refunds, Taxfix, founded in 2017, has transitioned from a disruptor to a market leader. This evolution prompted the need for a strategic rebranding effort undertaken by Kallan & Co — a Helsinki-based design studio for technology-driven businesses that transforms technology into meaningful brand and product experiences.

As Taxfix experienced exponential growth and strengthened its market presence through strategic acquisitions, including the notable Steuerbot, the company needed to redefine its brand from strategy to expression. Kallan & Co faced crafting a brand that asserted Taxfix’s ambitious leadership position and resonated with existing and potential customers and employees. The goal was to align Taxfix’s brand identity with its multi-product and multi-platform expansion, creating a brand that confidently communicated its mission to the world to build trust and inspire advocacy at every customer interaction point.

II had the opportunity to ask the Kallan & Co team to dig further into their process for Taxfix; Luca Picardi, Lead Strategist & Head of Brand Strategy, and Hannu Koho, Design Director, shared their responses with me below.

(Interview edited for clarity and length.)

The central idea of ‘Fix Finance for All’ is powerful. How did Kallan&Co ensure that the concept translated across the visual, verbal, and experiential elements of the Taxfix brand? Any specific design or communication strategies that played a crucial role?

Luca Picardi: At its core, ‘Fix Finance for All’ is an all-encompassing idea that drives everything Taxfix. This spirit informs the company’s culture and behaviour — reinforcing its role in the world to make the complex and messy financial world more accessible and approachable to anyone. Fixing taxes is just the start of their journey.

The primary creative challenge was to capture the invigorating feeling and benefit of customer empowerment that Taxfix provides while balancing it with the calm and credible reassurance of its financial expertise. The goal was to create a brand capable of being precise and pragmatic during taxing times and celebratory during customers’ more rewarding moments. This duality runs throughout the brand, from the tone of voice and photography to colour and typography.

With Taxfix evolving into a multi-product and multi-platform company, how did the design team address the challenge of maintaining a cohesive brand identity across different products and platforms while allowing room for individuality?

Luca Picardi: Taxfix’s expansion into a multi-product and multi-platform company is an ongoing and evolving process, with a long-term trajectory still unfolding. Numerous decisions are pending, and its final direction is yet to be determined.

We were at the beginning of this fast-changing journey during our project. We explored various brand architecture models to swiftly test scenarios within the Taxfix ecosystem. We simulated future products’ potential look and feel, experimenting with different colour schemes and fine-tuning visual elements. Each iteration allowed us to assess how individual products could maintain a distinct identity while remaining seamlessly integrated into the overarching Taxfix brand.

This future-proofing process helped define a really comprehensive and cohesive final brand system in everything from an extensive standardised colour palette range to a deeply responsive typeface choice that works hard in any and all marketing or product contexts.

The emphasis on simplicity, expertise, and user empowerment is evident in Taxfix’s rebrand. Can you share examples of design choices or elements you specifically incorporated to convey these brand values to users?

Hannu Koho: Each brand element was carefully selected to embrace varying levels of simplicity, expertise, and user empowerment. Our creative process began with the key signature financial motifs that served a dual purpose. These symbols provided diverse communication possibilities to simplify and guide people’s financial journeys, encompassing everything from taxes to savings; they also functioned as cropping devices, placing customers at the literal centre stage of the brand. All of this underpins a central value of Taxfix – making finance fit people, not the other way around.

The chosen typeface, ABC ROM, strikes a perfect balance of sturdy precision and expertise while retaining unique quirks and humane characteristics. It became a crucial tool in building customer confidence through the ‘Taxfix voice,’ which is approachable and expert. Additionally, ROM effectively addressed specific challenges in the German market, Taxfix’s largest, by accommodating the lengthy nature of German words, particularly in tax-related content. The diverse widths proved invaluable for clear communication, whether in prominent headlines on marketing billboards or detailed body copy within the app. When it comes to taxes, the fine print matters.

Colour emerged as another crucial element in conveying the brand’s values. We refined a warmer range of green shades — from more vivid to muted and darker tones. Our aim was to keep the ‘green thread’ from the original brand but embed it with more versatility, meaning, and, importantly, energy. To breathe more life into the brand beyond green, we introduced a set of secondary colours, enabling Taxfix the flexibility to speak to different mindsets, emotions, and needs. The palette was inspired by the various colours of the Euro cash notes, given Taxfix’s European roots, with its key markets currently in Germany, Italy, and Spain. These include hues of lilac, gold, and blue. Each colour adds a unique dimension to the brand — communicating everything from calmness and credibility to confidence.

Considering Taxfix’s commitment to putting customers center-stage, how did the design team ensure that the rebrand resonates with the diverse needs and preferences of the user base? Were there any user-centric design principles adopted during the process?

Luca Picardi: Many companies claim they’re all about their customers but fall short in practice. Taxfix, however, truly lives up to its commitment. Right from the initial pitch meeting to every subsequent project session, the customer consistently came first, serving as the guiding principle of our conversations and the structural foundation of the entire project process.

This customer-skewed approach lived through every aspect of our work, from the comprehensive customer research provided by Taxfix to the proactive customer testing embedded at various stages of our branding project. We ran customer testing for two of our brand prototype concepts and, eventually, the final concept, involving thousands of customers. These testing phases emerged as critical milestones, ensuring that our decision-making process wasn’t confined solely to internal perspectives but was also influenced by the external world.

This highly collaborative approach with end-users played a large role in refining our understanding of their needs and preferences, ultimately shaping a brand that resonates authentically with its audience.

With Kallan & Co’s strategic rebranding efforts, Taxfix has successfully evolved into a multi-product and multi-platform company, solidifying its position as Europe’s go-to digital tax platform. The new brand identity, centered around ‘Fix Finance for All,’ reflects Taxfix’s commitment to customer empowerment and sets the stage for continued growth and innovation in the financial technology space.

I took my first trip to Mexico at the end of last year, when my family and I went on a holiday vacation to the small coastal town of Sayulita. Roughly a 45-minute drive from the pulsing parties of Puerto Vallarta, Sayulita is a lesser-known Mexican gem along the western coast in the southern Nayarit region. Sought after primarily by wave-chasing surfers, Sayulita has a population of just about 5,000, though that number ebbs and flows in and out of the tourist season.

Upon arriving in Sayulita days before the new year, with my grandmother’s silver bracelets clanging around my wrists, I was immediately captivated by the small yet spirited fishing village.

Garlands of papel picado of all colors and designs were strung across each of Sayulita’s narrow, cobble-stoned streets. The papel picado motif, swaying softly in the wind with their thin plastic glinting in the sun, wove colorfully throughout the town, physically connecting each shop and restaurant with a celebratory flair.

Sayulita is saturated with bright colors, from the bold-hued stucco of buildings to the painted and mosaic-tiled murals peppering the walls, stairwells, and every other surface in between. As a sign painter myself infatuated by all things hand-painted, I moved through the town, taken by the signage and lettering clearly executed by a human with a paintbrush. I documented many of the hand-painted signs I encountered, like the facade of a custom boot shop and the enamel window sign adorning a golf cart rental service.

At the center of Sayulita sits a baseball field. Home of the Sayulita Jaibos (crabs), this field serves as an epicenter of commerce in the town, as merchants and vendors set up booths around the field’s perimeter each morning to sell their goods for the day. Beaded hummingbird ornaments, ceramic housewares, and embroidered tunics are among the merchants’ most popular items. As I made my laps around the field in search of the perfect trinket keepsakes, pawing through strands of beaded necklaces, haggling for a knock-off Lionel Messi jersey, accumulating abalone hair clips and other mementos, I started to recognize certain design elements and aesthetics I associated with my grandmother. The same penchant for jewel tones and beaded figurines I’d inherited from my mother, I was now tracing back to my grandmother and her time in Mexico.

There’s an abundance of tiles in Sayulita, with stairwells, sidewalks, and restaurant tables festooned with all sorts of these ceramic squares. I’ve been obsessed with tiles for as long as I can remember, and have the annoying habit of taking photos of any noteworthy tile specimen that crosses my path. I spent much of my exploration of Sayulita holding up my family as we walked to dinner or the beach, stopping dead in my tracks to capture the perfect angle of one of the many tiled staircases I came upon.

As a white American visiting Mexico with my white American family, I think it’s important to acknowledge my anxiety about the power dynamics we would inevitably bring with us during our stay. These sensitivities are inherent to traveling and the general concept of “going on vacation.” Maybe it was the baseball field in the center of town, or the local surfers scuttling around the streets barefoot with their boards held over their heads, or the squinty-eyed beach Chihuahua that befriended my dad at the water’s edge, but there was a refreshing integration of the tourists and the local Sayulita community that felt palpable to me. Of course, privilege imbalances will always be at play, and Sayulita is far from immune to that. Still, there was a sense of intimacy within the community we were visiting and a feeling of genuine welcoming from the town that I was grateful for throughout our visit.

As at the end of all great traveling experiences, I left Sayulita feeling as if I understood myself a little bit better. I was able to chart some of the origins of my interest in tiles, bougainvillea, and the color turquoise by spending a week in a little Mexican town that’s bustling with golf carts, fishermen, and sandy street dogs. I feel nostalgic for the trip already, missing the vibrant energy and aesthetic, the humble hum of the streets in the mornings, and the music spilling out from bars at night. Whenever I return from traveling, I question whether or not I imagined the whole thing; did I fabricate that place in my mind or create an alternate reality that I’ve suddenly snapped out of? The particular magic of Sayulita makes me even more dubious, but the newest treasures in my jewelry box give me hope.

Under the nom de plume TraceLoops, Brown is on a glorious journey of visual experimentation through his animation practice, in which he deploys various tools and techniques that he’s constantly pushing in new and innovative directions. Perusing his body of work is a thrilling experience, as you can chart his evolution as an artist over time, seeing what styles or tools he’s using for a period before morphing in a different direction for a spell. Brown also composes the music accompanying his animations, creating immersive sensory worlds in a bite-sized form.

Captivated by both Brown’s stunning work and the audacious mind behind his creations, I felt compelled to learn more. His thoughtful reflections on his background and ethos as an artist are below.

(The interview has been edited for clarity and length.)

Why stop motion? How did you first come to this process, and what do you enjoy so much about it?

In, I think, fifth grade, I took a week-long summer class that was generally about using some computer programs—Photoshop, Premier, Macromedia Flash—and I enjoyed making things move. I also made flip books during year-end standardized testing in middle school when we were only allowed a book for when we were done. 

When making animations in Flash, tweening always looked bad, so I would do mostly frame-by-frame animation. I’m not sure what I do now is exactly “stop motion.” I do some work that takes an object, moves it, photographs it, and then moves and photographs it again, but the shift is meant to advance to a preexisting frame. I think of stop motion as progressively repositioning or augmenting an element and not replacing it all at once.

I like things that re-contextualize an understanding of information. Animation constantly jumps from one state to another, and what you perceive is never what you see. It’s flashes of information that compile into a sense of motion. It’s a very time-consuming process that gets crunched down into fractions of seconds that gain new meaning when reformatted. I struggle sometimes to be clear in words. I can talk and talk about an idea that feels very direct and concise, but when the idea is realized, it communicates better than I can. A complex, perhaps bloated, collection of ideas and processes crunched down into fractions of seconds that are understood.

I never want to feel like I can’t share how something is done for fear that it will be the end of my ability to create work…I have learned from people who share and I appreciate that I might be able to do the same for others.

Matthias Brown

Looking at the evolution of your experimentation is such a fun way to experience your process. Is laying out your work sequentially like this on social media intentional, or did you stumble into it? How did this sharing process come about?

I really like process. There’s a quote I think about often that gets attributed to different people: “A joke is like a frog: there are few who want to dissect it, and the frog dies in the process.”

I’m a comedy nerd. In middle and high school, I used to download audio recordings of Comedy Central Presents episodes and burned CDs that I would fall asleep while listening to. I wanted to know why things were and weren’t funny with slight changes. I get the sentiment of the quote, but I wouldn’t say I like to leave things unknown. For me, the joke doesn’t die when dissected; it takes on new meaning while broadening the scope of possibilities.

IIn that same summer course, when learning about the basics of Photoshop, the teacher showed us work from Jerry Uelsmann, who would make surreal photographs in darkrooms, combining imagery from several negatives into one final image. Uelsmann published books on his processes, which felt like a sharing of knowledge, a means of documenting work, and letting go of being too precious about techniques. I never want to feel like I can’t share how I’ve done something for fear that it will end my ability to create work. Some people hold on to techniques and are very successful, but I don’t like that idea. I have learned from people who share and appreciate that I can do the same for others.

What’s your process for composing the music that accompanies each video you’re creating? Do you create the visuals, and then the music is produced in response, or vice versa? Or are they made simultaneously, each informing the other?

I started making music when I started doing more live streams. During early COVID, streaming platforms began cracking down on the use of licensed music; it used to be a lot more lax. I started making simple note patterns with a drum machine— initially, songs were 10 minutes long because I was trying to fill hours from scratch. I got more intentional and better about it as time went on. I bought better equipment and have made hundreds of songs over the last few years.

I use Korg Gadget on my Nintendo Switch now. I record to an old cassette deck I bought on eBay, then digitize the playback of the cassette. I bought a bunch of used blank tapes and recorded most of the runtime but left little clips between my songs. Since first buying used blank tapes, I started seeking out tapes with interesting spoken word content: self-help, comedy radio hours, travel guides, and hypnosis. When I’m in the habit, I’ll make a song every day.

The music comes first, but the animations aren’t made for the music most of the time. I will listen to songs and see which fits well for an animation and then edit videos accordingly. I have done things where I make a tape with a constant BPM, and that will dictate the animation loop length. I’ve done 120 BPM, which works out to four beats every two seconds. Fifteen frame-per-second animation means 30 frames, and the animation will sync up with the audio no matter what.

Where do the ideas for your areas of exploration typically come from? For example, when thinking about tools to harness for animation, I wouldn’t think that using an airbrush would come to mind for most. How did you come to the airbrush as one of your go-to tools?

If I see something interesting, I like to try it. I like tools and less popularly known means of manufacturing and production. I don’t mean secretive things, but when a part of a machine has a name, I like to know the name of the part, if that makes sense. There are so many subcultures and groups of people that are hyper-focused on their subsections of the world and have meaningful ideas and opinions about things I’ve never heard of. Sometimes, those groups are insular and don’t really cross-pollinate with other groups. I think associatively and do my best not to think of a tool as only having its designated purpose. Tools are refined for a purpose, but they aren’t just for that, and so I like to explore those groups in forums and stuff, so I try new approaches.

The airbrush came from trying to make something more automated but still very physical. I got a Cricut machine to cut stuff out of paper after doing simple animations by hand-cutting stuff. I started messing with doing pencil rubbings, painting sticker paper, and then cutting it out. I then started messing with splattering paint using cheap toothbrushes. Certain things are easy to do one to five times and inspire the confidence to jump to doing something 30 times; splattering paint using a cheap toothbrush is one of those.

I made stencils using the Cricut, and it is weirdly tiring to hold a toothbrush and pull your thumb across the bristles repeatedly. My thumb got tired in a way that I didn’t know it could, and I didn’t feel like it was a good idea to do that long-term, so I looked into other methods of getting paint onto a surface through a stencil and bought a small compressor and an airbrush.

There are things about any tool or process that give it a sense of identity. People often try to obscure those identifiers because the idea isn’t informed by the tool, but I like process, so I want the tool to work with the idea. With airbrush and stencils, you’d typically want the stencil flush with the surface and the paint to be evenly applied. I might as well work digitally for that effect, so I lift the stencil off the surface instead, and let things get out of focus in ways inherent to the process.

I work in a variety of mediums, and I forget that not everybody is aware of the techniques and processes I’ve explored. I have a habit of getting into a process for one to four months, producing a lot of work, and then abandoning it for six-12 months until that skill is reintroduced as practical, either for a paid job or a new, different process. I’m only saying that because I don’t feel like the airbrush is my go-to tool, but it is part of a collection of tools. I’ve been working most recently with stacked, cut paper animations, informed by the work I did with the airbrush stencils, which were informed by pencil rubbings that were informed by 3D animation rotoscoping, which came from an attempt to do traditional cel animation, and so on.

I’ll undoubtedly start using the airbrush again in a few months. I took a break because I messed up the fans in my laptop with the aerosolized paint.

As Adobe’s audience diversifies, from newcomers to professionals, the company aims to enhance intuitiveness and inclusivity in its tools for creative exploration. Adobe Firefly and Spectrum 2 are part of this update. They represent a monumental shift to make Adobe tools more intuitive, inclusive, and joyful, catering to various user needs while staying true to their mission of enabling Creativity for All.

Three major improvements define Spectrum 2: inclusivity and accessibility enhancements, a more approachable and expressive design, and adaptability across platforms. To achieve greater accessibility, Spectrum 2 adheres to Web Content Accessibility Guidelines (WCAG) and focuses on adaptive palettes, accessible colors, and attention hierarchy.

But the design evolution doesn’t stop at accessibility. Inspired by the success of the more welcoming Adobe Express, Spectrum 2 reimagines icons, typography, and UI themes to cater to a broader audience. Additionally, Spectrum 2 adapts its appearance across different platforms, providing a familiar yet tailored experience on each.

Comprehensive shifts in icons, colors, illustrations, and shapes underpin everything. The update transforms icons from classic to trendy, adjusts color systems for better integration with Adobe’s brand colors, and introduces a more versatile illustration toolkit.

I was thrilled to speak with Eric Snowden, Adobe’s VP of Design, to ask about the strategies, challenges, and transformative elements behind Spectrum 2’s evolution, offering insights into its sure-to-be monumental impact and future-ready design ethos.

(This conversation has been edited and condensed for clarity and length.)

It’s been a decade since the introduction of Spectrum 1. What were the primary factors or challenges that contributed to this extended timeline between the two releases? What influenced the evolution and scope of this latest design system?

It was a bunch of small to medium changes, adding up to a much bigger shift for us. With generative AI coming to many of our tools, there’s a real canvas to think about things differently. Once we started adding all these things up, it made sense to take a bigger step back rather than an incremental approach to look at the system for the next few years. We looked back at some of the original designs from 2013 and where our products are now. We’ve been iterating it since then on a yearly basis, but for us, it felt like time to do a more revolutionary versus incremental change. It was driven by many new products that Adobe is making and new markets we’re talking to. People are using more of our products even across the multiple Adobe Clouds in a way they weren’t ten years ago. There’s an intermixing of our tooling in a way that is happening more and more over time. The devices and the platforms people use have changed.

With the rapid evolution of technology and design trends, how does Spectrum 2 anticipate staying adaptable and future-proof while catering to the diverse needs of designers and users across Adobe’s extensive ecosystem?

The components we’re using to design are generated from the tokens, and the tokens generate the code people use in the software. We’ve got this really interesting connection all the way through to keep things up to date. If we change the underlying token, this cascades through the system in a much easier way to update than historically it has been. Having the token from design to code will make it easier for us to revise this as we move forward. We also want to ensure that while it is easier for us to update, there is a sense of stability for people. Our software is changing a lot. GenAI is a big catalyst and will continue to change. We want to make sure we have a system that allows us to move quickly and be flexible as these changes happen.

What feature are you most proud of and excited for with this new system update?

I get excited about the little things like the new icon set or tweaks we’re making to the typography. It’s not always the big features. As someone who lives and loves design, I think those little changes we’re making are really exciting. I get excited about it because bringing all our tools, especially our creative tools, to a much broader audience will allow more people to communicate and express themselves. That’s why I have been at Adobe for as long as I have been. Seeing what people are going to be able to make with our software in the future is the thing that drives me.

Are there any other aha moments you’ve had working on this project?

We’re building fairly fully functional software versions as we iterate a design, use it, and test the updates. It allows us to play with things like density on the desktop to see how it works, different contrast ratios, and what controls we want to give our users. A real superpower for us is having a strong engineering team within design that can help us abstractly think about design and make it real, use it, learn, and iterate. That feedback loop between design, research, prototyping, and our customers has been a real superpower for the team.

More and more people are using Adobe products than ever before. More people want to be creative. If you look at what we’re doing with things like Adobe Express and Adobe Firefly, we have all these new people making beautiful things for the first time, which is super exciting. We think Spectrum 2 can be a piece of modernizing and making those tools more approachable to a whole new audience of people.

Eric Snowden, VP of Design for Adobe

For a closer look at Spectrum 2 and its future, visit the Spectrum 2 site.

Yesterday, the Pantone Color Institute introduced their 2024 color of the year, Peach Fuzz — a cozy and comforting hue, nurturing compassion and heartfelt kindness.

The introduction of PANTONE 13-1023 Peach Fuzz brings a special milestone — the 25th anniversary of the Pantone Color of the Year program. First introduced in 1999 with PANTONE 15-4020 Cerulean Blue, the Pantone Color of the Year program captures the global zeitgeist, reflecting the mood and attitude of individuals. Over the years, Pantone Color of the Year has become an iconic cultural symbol, highlighting how our global culture beautifully speaks through the palette of colors.

Last night, I had the pleasure of attending the 2024 Pantone Color of the Year launch party, a captivating blend of warm and fuzzy sophistication. The event, held in a venue beautifully adorned with the chosen color’s hues, highlighted the creative potential inspired by this new shade. Guests were enveloped in everything peachy from décor to fellow attendees’ attire. It was a carefully crafted evening that ended with an immersive dessert experience by Chef Jozef Youssef, the creative force behind the Kitchen Theory design studio. This visually stunning and warm ambiance made me wonder if I was living a sophisticated version of James and the Giant Peach. Needless to say, the hue is undoubtedly comforting, and I respect the theme of togetherness and kindness that the curators are imploring us to carry into this new year.

Peach Fuzz radiates a sense of warmth and a sense of reassurance. Perhaps that is exactly what we’ve been missing and what we’re reaching out for, imagining ourselves in a time and place where kindness and empathy can lead us to write a better future together.

Elley Cheng, President, Pantone Color Institute

The color we selected needed to express our desire to want to be close to those we love and the joy we get when allowing ourselves time to tune into who we are; it also needed to be a color whose warm and welcoming embrace could be a message of compassion, empathy, and one that is nurturing, who’s cozy sensibility brought people together.

Laurie Pressman, Vice President, Pantone Color Institute

This year’s official Pantone Color of the Year 2024 partners include Motorola, Shades by Shan (the first-ever cosmetics brand to be Pantone’s beauty partner), Ruggable, Ultrafabrics, and Spoonflower. Each partner has crafted swoon-worthy, inviting items for 2024’s collaboration with Pantone. I am currently churning my thoughts to see whether turning my living room into a maximalist, fuzzy, peachy oasis is viable; stay tuned.

Imagery supplied by Motorola, Spoonflower, Shades by Shan, and Ruggable for Pantone.

A cozy peach hue softly nestled between pink and orange, PANTONE 13-1023 Peach Fuzz brings belonging, inspires recalibration, and an opportunity for nurturing, conjuring up an air of calm, offering us a space to be, feel, and heal and to flourish from whether spending time with others or taking the time to enjoy a moment by ourselves.

Leatrice Eiseman, Executive Director, Pantone Color Institute

More from Leatrice Eiseman, Executive Director of the Pantone Color Institute:

“Drawing comfort from PANTONE 13-1023 Peach Fuzz, we can find peace from within, impacting our wellbeing. An idea as much as a feeling, PANTONE 13-1023 Peach Fuzz awakens our senses to the comforting presence of tactility and cocooned warmth.”

We’ll bring you more Peach Fuzz news tomorrow, but for now, deep breath …

Image and video: The Development

Devlin’s protean output draws upon a lifetime of reading and drawing, thinking and seeing, and most of all, reimagining. Seven years in production, the 2.75-inch thick, 8” x 8” book is a solid counterpoint to the artist’s experiential works. Weighing in at nearly five pounds, its square proportions echo one of Devlin’s signature formats, the box. 

Despite its heft, the book’s complex form, designed by her cousin Daniel Devlin, feels intimate and inviting. Devlin describes her process as consisting of five ingredients: space, light, darkness, scale, and time; the book pays homage to all. Printed books always have a time element, marking the passing of the hours as a reader gets lost in the pages. In this one, a surprising variety of translucent and mirrored papers, page sizes, die cuts, and other unexpected moments invite readers to pause and appreciate the object they hold in their hands. The ideas startle, provoke, and reward. Devlin searches for ways to provide dopamine hits. As with her designs for the stage, she invites readers to become part of a temporary society traveling through a rich, creative landscape of observing and feeling.

“I do it for love…If I make a beautiful object, it’s the most important use of my time.”

Es Devlin

The book’s pristine white cover features a blind-stamped title and a hypnotic series of circular die-cut apertures slicing through multiple following sheets. The effect is to draw a reader through a portal into the artist’s world, focused on an image of her as if seen through a camera viewfinder. The back cover features a smaller oval opening as if to say: here is a simple way out; your journey is complete. Each boxed copy includes a die-cut print from an edition of 5,000.

Devlin’s design practice is physical and conceptual; every project starts with a blank page, a pencil, and a conversation with the playwright or musician. She sketches, builds cardboard models, cuts holes in things, welds, and paints. The value of the craft process is integral to the book as well. The sculptural volume runs to more than 900 pages, with 700 color images documenting 120 projects over four decades. Of particular interest are 300 color reproductions of the ephemeral miniature paintings, sketches, paper cuts, and small mechanical models representing the development process of Devlin’s large-scale works. These welcome surprises scattered throughout appear as small accordion-folded inserts that jog sometimes to the head, sometimes to the foot of the book. 

An Atlas of Es Devlin highlights the artist’s deeply personal collaboration with actors, playwrights, directors, musicians, and other creative clients. The project examples cover a range of venues worldwide: performances at the Tate Modern, Victoria & Albert Museum, the Serpentine Galleries, the Royal Opera House, the Royal Ballet, the National Theatre, and the Imperial War Museum in London; Superblue Miami; the Metropolitan Opera and Lincoln Center in New York City, and La Scala in Milan. This monograph includes Devlin’s initial sketches, paintings, and rotating cardboard sculptures for the design of the London 2012 Olympic Closing Ceremony, early materials for the 2022 NFL Super Bowl half-time show with Dr. Dre and Kendrick Lamar, as well as setlists overlaid with sketched diagrams of illuminated stage sculptures for U2, Beyoncé, and Abel “The Weeknd” Tesfaye. 

Because Devlin didn’t like the onstage shape of rock shows as seen from the audience (a horizontal layout interrupted by spotlit bumps where the drummers, guitarists, and singers stood, with downlighting and maybe a huge banner behind them—boring!), she tore the shape apart. One approach involved putting each individual on stage into a separate box created with projection mapping and using enormous animated screens that visually synced to a second-by-second timeline of the music. 

In addition to stage performance design, some of her early ideas developed into public sculptures and installations exploring biodiversity, linguistic diversity, and AI-generated poetry. In September 2022, Come Home Again, a 16-meter-high interactive sculpture outside Tate Modern, attracted over 7,000 visitors daily to sing alongside a pre-recorded soundtrack featuring diverse London choirs and the sounds of 243 species. 

Devlin’s process relies upon a give-and-take of ideas, allowing her vision and that of her client to shine through. She collaborates closely with her professional studio team to bring her concepts to life. In an episode of the Netflix series Abstract, she discusses how crucial her collaborators’ support was during stage production for the play The Faith Healer, a series of monologues through rain, sludge, and bleakness. Devlin envisioned and sketched out a curtain of falling rain to create walls separating the actors on all sides from the audience without having the technical know-how to make it happen. Of course, someone else knew how. As she puts it, “It just shows you can design nice things without having any idea how they fucking work.” 

An Atlas of Es Devlin is an immersive, joyful reading experience, an encyclopedia of creativity, and a tribute to the sculptural possibilities of the printed book. It gives form and substance to the artist’s philosophy of why she creates: “I do it for love…If I make a beautiful object, it’s the most important use of my time.”

Banner image: Aperture p xi, © Es Devlin, Engineers and Fabricators

Brand Collaborations

Who doesn’t love a good collab? They’re seemingly everywhere, from fashion to health and wellness and beyond. Brand collaborations offer a powerful opportunity to unite the visual identities of two distinct entities in a way that reflects both – but stands alone. Collaborations can happen between two brands but also include a brand with an artist, organization, or influencer that amplifies a campaign’s voice, reach, and messaging. When executed well, the intersection can help both parties communicate new messages (including some that address social issues or push industry boundaries) and reach a broader, more diverse audience. And great design makes it more compelling.

Branding Campaigns

Today’s brand campaigns demand a multichannel, multimedia approach. To recognize all it takes to create a brand campaign that covers every angle, from print to environmental, packaging, UX and UI, and more, the PRINT Awards have created a category that encourages designers to share your full campaign creations, from logo to app design to merch.

Packaging Design

What makes a product jump off the shelf? Creative packaging design can take a product’s success from good to outstanding. Creativity comes in every shape, color, size, and material. We’re excited to add the packaging design category to this year’s awards to consider how successful packaging design can attract consumers, communicate the brand message, protect the product, and – with sustainable materials – protect the planet.

The London-based Boris is as taken by physical mediums as I, primarily working in silkscreen, sculpture, book, and letterpress. She continues her exploration of these proclivities with Rainbow, which features seven layered pieces of paper that gradually form the arches of a rainbow as the pages turn.

The only difference between Rainbow 1 and Rainbow 2 is the colorways featured, with Rainbow 1 composed of bright hues as they appear in nature and Rainbow 2 exhibiting pastels. The two versions came about when Boris made the book prototype from leftover paper samples she had on hand in her studio while under pandemic lockdown in 2020. During the process, she felt compelled to propose two different color palettes. The two versions can be experienced independently of one another or as a set, with Rainbow 1 seen as the classic and Rainbow 2 as its more interpretive counterpart. Both are made from a range of Japanese papers by Takeo.

To fully understand and experience the wordless books, you must hold them and turn the pages. Both Rainbow 1 and Rainbow 2 have been released in an edition of 222 and are available for purchase in Korea, Germany, the US, and online. Boris is also converting the book into an exhibition, which will be on view in France first in March and April and then again in May and June. This exhibition interpretation will feature the book, 48 modular color pencil drawings, a series of sculptures, and a new, unbound edition. Boris is hopeful the exhibition will soon find a home in the US as well.

In the age of all things digital, virtual, and AI, Rainbow is a refreshing reminder that the physicality of the book form still reigns supreme.  

Vancouver-based multimedia artist Katherine Duclos has taken the creative potential of Legos to the extreme, first becoming familiar with the medium while playing with them with her three-year-old son. He was diagnosed as autistic, so Duclos served as his parallel play co-regulator, and Legos were often his toy of choice. Duclos’s fascination with Legos grew from there and has erupted into her creative practice of carefully crafting works of Lego art in eye-catching color palettes arranged in satisfying configurations.

Eager to learn more about her process and the journey behind her Lego art, I reached out to Duclos with a few questions that she’s answered below. 

Why Legos? What is it about Lego pieces as a medium that speaks to you so much as an artist? 

I love the immediacy of it. It’s satisfying to touch and is so direct. I started using Lego because it was my son’s special interest when he was three to six years old. All he wanted to do all the time was Lego, and he required a parallel play co-regulator with him at all times. “Mama, do you want to build with me?” was uttered so frequently every day, that I had to figure out a way to use Lego in a way I found satisfying too. 

My son is a whiz at the sets; he’s seven now and about to finish the 6,000 piece Hogwarts castle he built all by himself. He’s been building sets that were above his age since he was three, so he’s quite gifted spatially. But I actually really struggle with the sets because my brain can’t process the diagram directions spatially, so I make a lot of mistakes and they take me a long time. 

In order for me to enjoy Lego, I had to just start seeing it as a modular color material, not as a means of building three dimensional structures. Once I saw the potential as an abstract color process, I was right back to using color as a means of externalizing an internal order. 

You say in your Instagram profile that you’re an “AuDHD artist.” Can you describe what that means exactly? How does this impact your artistic practice? 

I discovered my Autistic-ADHD neurodivergence in my 40’s after both of my children were diagnosed autistic. It turns out apples don’t fall far from the tree, and we know a lot more about neurodivergent brains now than we did in the 80’s. When I was a kid, I would spend hours arranging colored wooden pattern blocks on our floors to create intricate mosaics that I wouldn’t let my mother clean up. I’m still putting color in order all these years later. 

My need to jump around from material to material is a direct result of my ADHD and dopamine seeking, but it was almost what stopped me from being allowed to finish my thesis in grad school. Artists are often expected to develop a signature style or process they can be recognized by, but I never wanted to be limited. I can’t separate how or what I make from how my brain works now that I understand myself better.

Each brick I put down informs the next. There is always a rhythm that dictates where the colors get put in my work, but it’s internal.

Katherine Duclos

What’s your typical process for your Lego artworks? Do you use other materials at first to plot them out? Or do you start directly from the Legos themselves? How long does one piece typically take?

My process has changed since the early color constructions I made in 2021. Those were made as irregular shapes starting with small bases in a specific palette that were then paired with a colored paper background and framed. I usually start by selecting a color way for each piece— originally I just used Lego colors, but now I frequently paint them. 

The first pieces were originally shown in a well-known coffee shop with an art program, attached to Emily Carr University (an art school here in Vancouver). Michael, the curator of the coffee shop (yeah, it had a curator), messaged me on Instagram and asked if I’d be interested in doing a show. We both thought the Lego work had some appeal and wanted to just have a fun show. I called it “Mama Do You Want to Build with Me?” and I think I made 24 pieces. 

After that show, I started getting commission requests and had a few pieces go to galleries in the states, and one in a show with Studio Archive Project curated by Leslie Roberts. I started painting them for a solo show here in Vancouver at THIS Gallery in 2022. My latest group is a mix of heavily painted irregular constructions attached to wooden panels, as well as small sculptures and larger framed panels. Recently they went viral on Instagram, which has brought me a lot of attention. 

Each piece varies in how long it takes me and I often do time lapse videos of the builds, as I find people like watching them. I never plan or plot them out, the same as all my work— it’s all instinctual responses in the moment. Each brick I put down informs the next. There is always a rhythm that dictates where the colors get put in my work, but it’s internal. 

What’s your studio space set up like? I’m imagining mass amounts of bins and boxes filled with Lego pieces sorted by color! 

I work at home, which is great for the Lego work because it’s enabled my kids to stay a large part of the process. I often buy large bulk collections of old Lego that I then spend weeks sorting, like 75 pounds of Lego at once. I have color-coded drawer bins along with bags of extra bricks sorted; so when my yellow bin gets low, I can pull from the reserve bags in storage. 

I buy a fair amount of used bricks on Bricklink, a second-hand Lego marketplace. There are a lot of colors that Lego has retired—like my favorite Sand Red—and Bricklink is one of the only places to get them. I also frequent Lego stores and “Pick-a-Brick” walls. 

There is Lego in every room of our house. My son has an uncanny ability to know where each piece came from and who it belongs to, so we keep them straight. 

Has Lego the brand ever acknowledged your work in any way? Do you have any aspirations of doing a collaboration with them?

I heard from someone at Lego last week actually, with promises of further communication and possible collaboration so I’m hopeful. I’d love to design an abstract set for them. 

The second my Twitter app pivoted away from its bright blue bird logo to an industrial black and white “X,” I noticed that the rest of my home screen was riddled with a similar black-and-white design style. 

Yes, it took the melodramatic change of one app for me to clock the pervasiveness of this trend, but now I can’t unsee it: we’re in a colorless era. I’ve always been interested in the theoretical design pendulum of trends shifting from one extreme to another, but I never thought that black and white design would displace color. 

“To consumers, black and white branding can say, ‘this is an established company’— it’s kind of a power move to move into an all black and white space, or even to start with one,’ shared Isa Segalovich, a graphic designer, multimedia artist, and writer for Hyperallergic. “Smaller brands often rely on colors to distinguish themselves from the noise— once you have an enormous corporation, you can shed those colors and say, ‘We don’t need these anymore to stand out. Everyone knows what an apple with a bite taken out of it means.’” 

The TikTok app logo design was a pioneer of this trend, as one of the first social media platforms to embrace the stark aesthetic. Sure, there’s a subtle pop of pink and blue behind the brand’s logo, but the overall black-and-white design projects a sense of sophistication to an app that didn’t start out with much. And then, more recently, there’s Threads— Zuckerberg’s latest attempt to take over the internet— which touts yet another flat and austere black and white logo. Not long after Threads was released, Twitter stripped down to X, and our phones got even darker. Many others are already on the black-and-white logo bandwagon as well, including Uber, BeReal, and the popular video editing app CapCut.

X has been the final, most egregious straw for designers being nudged into a colorless space in the tech world, but the removal of color has already been taking over other industries outside of tech-based design. A study referenced in a recent Arch Daily article has revealed that vibrant tones are being used far less across the board, sending the world into a grayer state. The investigation also found that many more cars had previously been spangled in vivid hues than in the present day, while now an increasing number are coated in silver, black, and white. This same pattern is prevalent in household interiors as well: the bold colors that once adorned finishes, decorative items, and furniture up until the mid-20th century have undergone a gradual fading over time. In fact, people are now being mocked for their “Millennial Grey” interiors. 

But is a lack of color necessarily a bad thing? Let’s investigate. One could argue that simplifying branding in this way allows the brands themselves to take a step back and let the platforms flourish through their content. 

“At the end of the day, X, Threads, and TikTok are about the content,” Alex Center, Founder of CENTER, told me. “The product is the people: people’s creations, ideas, words, and videos. The brands serve as a house or museum, and I think of many museums as platforms. If you consider it, museums’ identities are typically black and white. The walls are white, and the typography and some of the branding are minimal. And that’s very purposeful because those places and those brands aren’t meant to overshadow. They’re intended to provide a pedestal, platform, house, or canvas for the art. And in the case of those brands, specifically X and TikTok, the product itself is made by people. That is why people go there; it’s the people that make up the color, if you will. So I think black and white is just a way to sort of get out of the way.” 

Suppose brands, specifically content-sharing-based brands, shift away from color— an easily recognizable and ownable design element. In that case, they’ll have to use typography, shapes, and patterns to define their brand through visual language. When color is no longer the driving force of design, something else will become the differentiating factor. X, for example, has already re-released its black and white app logo design as one with a grunge-y, almost peeled texture. 

“I think a lot about trends in design and our direct reaction to the thing that preceded them,” continued Center. “When we think about the more maximalist, more textured, and colorful world of the ‘90s, the pendulum swung towards minimalism in the 2000s, stripping back a lot of the excess, which led to what people call blanding. And a lot of that was also so that things could get scaled down in size so that when you’re looking at a logo the size of a penny on your phone, some textures don’t scale very well. I’ve been watching this over the last five years; there was a move towards doing things that are more expressive, more chaotic, less precious, and more fun, and that does sometimes involve textures, chromes, shadows, and things that are bringing a little bit more personality to brands. Much of that is happening, but I think it relates to how brands can differentiate themselves outside of color.”

While we’re just now at the tipping point of this trend completely taking over app logo designs, not all brands are turning toward black-and-white design. 

“Other brands seem like they’re diving into bright colors even more— I’m thinking of all the companies that are really leaning into the ’Corporate Memphis’ style,” offered Segalovich. “Some pharma brands, for example, and medical service industries in general can’t afford to look as sleek and powerful as a tech brand. They have to maintain a semblance of approachability and trust. Food brands are retaining their colors as well. I think they rely on that pop of color to indicate ‘color,’ ‘freshness,’ and ’flavor.’” 

So, if you want to stand out in tech design right now, inject your logo with neon colors— as we all know, going against the grain is a great strategy for making a splash. Plus, as creative beings at our core, humans will always crave at least a pop of color, even if the apps we’re currently using say otherwise. 

That’s quite the claim, but if anyone can make it, it’s Pantone. This power is not something the company takes lightly, as they go through thorough specific processes when selecting what colors are added to the Formula Guide. “When we add new colors, we want to make sure the colors we are adding will resonate with the markets our clients are looking to engage,” the Vice President of the Pantone Color Institute, Laurie Pressman, explained via email. “The consideration of how multiple industries view the colors was key, and balance was a primary factor when selecting the colors to be added. To ensure we are adding the right colors, the Pantone Color Institute team of global color experts are brought into this process.” 

“The selection process takes into consideration the general direction and movement of color trends by color family, and the needs of the industries of those we currently serve and those we would like to better impact,” Pressman continued. “In addition to working with our trend team at the Pantone Color Institute, we consult with our globally based color forecasting partners, solicit the input from some of our key customers around the globe, and look at highlighted colors from key trade shows worldwide.” 

The color trends that Pressman and the rest of the Pantone team identify are reflective of greater movements across design industries and beyond. “Color is a living language that expresses what is taking place in the culture,” said Pressman. “Whenever we add new colors, it is always with our design community clients in mind. Color direction is influenced by many elements including demographics, geographical location, climate, new lifestyles and play styles, and cultural and social influences. Influences may also stem from new technologies, materials, textures and effects that impact color.” 

With all of this in mind, Pantone unveiled a slew of carefully selected oranges, yellows, reds, pinks, browns, blues, purples, greens, and grays in the Formula Guide, each chosen for their ability to provide designers with the most sought-after shades. Pantone found that the desire for spicier and deeper shades of orange has grown, for example. As a result, they added hot and radiant orange tones, an assortment of spicy shades with greater color depth, more toned-down hues suffused with brown, and a variety of coral, softer peach, and apricot hues. 

Pantone also identified a growing predilection for more luxurious neutrals in the brown family. Thus they added brown shades with more color depth and versatility, like golden-browns, and those with red-based undertones, along with robust coffee, mocha browns, and several warmer, classic camel tones tap into the rising popularity of khaki and taupe. 

Our society’s necessary focus on the environment, health, and green living has contributed to a spike in green hues. As such, additions like earthy, warm yellow greens, true green shades, deep blue-influenced greens, grayed-down, blue-based greens, celery green tones, and citrusy, energetic yellow-green hues were also made to the Formula Guide. 

Purple tones continue their tenure as a perennial favorite, so Pantone added vibrant, red-based purples, several grayish purple with blue undertones, an array of softer mid-tones, and some more mystical, smokey violet purples.

While Pantone is confident in the new 225 shades they’ve just added to the Formula Guide, they know full well that trends shift and change by definition, so they’re not writing off any shades or hues that didn’t make the cut this time around. “The popularity and our perceptions/reactions to different colors and color families ebbs and flows based on what is taking place in the culture,” explained Pressman. “What may be on its way out today, could cycle back in tomorrow.”

But the colors they have chosen aren’t going anywhere, ever. “When we add new colors, it is always with this understanding in mind as well as the need for color longevity. We are a color standards company, which means we do not remove colors from our books,” said Pressman. “This idea of colors having a long lifespan and remaining relevant in our global culture always factors into our decision making when it comes to new color additions.”

Severin is a self-described color addict based in Stockholm, Sweden. As a multi-hyphenate colorist, designer, and photographer, her creative background is just as colorful as her aesthetic. She works across a range of disciplines, flexing her skills in interior design, set design, creative direction, and photography, with her love of color as the unifying factor in each.

After coming upon imagery of her recent exhibition “Dimensions of Colour” for FORMEX in Stockholm, I immediately gravitated toward Severin’s carefully considered, yet joyful aesthetic. I reached out to learn more, and Severin’s responses to a few of my questions are below.

(This conversation has been edited and condensed for clarity and length.)

Where does your love of color come from? Have you always loved color?

Well, where do things really start? Everything in life brings us where we are today, right?

So did it start in my early childhood, with a powder pink, wall-to-wall rug? That’s when I unconsciously understood what color and texture could do for a space. Or did it start when I got bad escalating eyesight at age 9? I was devastated, and thought I might lose it. Was it then? I got so obsessed with everything that was visually appealing because it felt so precious. I’m not sure, but I think it definitely plays a part.

Can you walk me through your creative journey to where you are today?

I graduated from Konstfack University of Arts and Crafts in Stockholm, where I studied interior architecture and furniture design. Afterward, first I was an intern, and then an employee at a great architecture studio in Stockholm. I slowly learned the profession, how to run projects, how to deal with clients, and about drawing architecture in general.

But I felt something was missing. It wasn’t only the creative freedom from art school— it was the conformity that was bothering and boring me; the idea about the Scandinavian grace with white beiges and greys. I needed a creative space, and we had this amazing material library in the cellar with lots of materials and colors that were sadly hardly used.

I started to do some kind of visual notes for myself— still lives, testing different combinations of materials and colors, exploring other aesthetics. I captured it with a very early smart phone and put it out on that new app called Instagram. I hardly understood I was posting stuff, hilariously enough— I only wanted to take advantage of those vintage filters to save the pictures to my camera roll. 

But soon, I started to get in contact and connect with other creatives and brands around the world. I took many baby steps toward fully freelancing in 2015 and starting my multidisciplinary journey, first through photography, re-inventing, and discovering shapes and colors from scratch. 

One of my first commissions was creating content for a Canadian shoe brand, doing a photo series on the theme of domestic science where I made a triangle of red cabbage with a lilac background and a cube of meat with a pink background. They paid me in shoes!

So from these smaller scenes, I moved my camera toward architecture and interiors. I got a real camera, and for a few years, I only took architectural photography around the world: in Guadeloupe for Air France, in Mauritius for a hotel designed by Camille Walala, in Spain of the iconic La Muralla Roja by Bofill Architects. I thought it was really liberating to not have to care about function or construction as when designing it. I could just focus on strong visual elements, outtakes angle, shadow play, colors, etc.

But after a while, I wanted to be more and more involved in the design in front of the camera, so I slowly came back to interior design, first by doing set design. One of my first projects was for a color collaboration for Montana Furniture. Through this, I felt I could come back in a new way to interior design and be as free, deconstructed, and abstract as I wanted. 

From where do you draw inspiration? Are there other artists, people, places, styles, or time periods that you look to or who have influenced you? 

Anywhere and everywhere. I can get just as much inspiration from an unexpected detail on a backstreet as from fine art in a gallery. But in general, I’m inspired by modern and postmodern architecture, art deco, playgrounds and games aesthetics, surrealism, graphic design, sunlight, and shadow play.

What project of yours are you proudest of and why?  

I would say “An Apartment of One’s Own,” the exhibition design I did for Sancal during Milan Design Week last year. I enjoyed the creative vision from the company and total creative freedom for me. Also the context (Hey, Milan Design Week!) and the level of customized design. I designed special terrazzo, marbled tops, the kitchen, the book cases, etc. It’s also what I’m proudest of because I dared to be so decorative. 

Then there’s “Dimensions of Colour,” the 250 square meter exhibition design and curation I did myself for FORMEX, Scandinavia’s biggest fair for interior details in Stockholm in January. The challenge was to find, pick, and display 200 products from over 400 exhibitors. I’m very proud of how everything came together, space-wise, [and how] perspectives and framings worked throughout the whole space. Also, in terms of color, every facade, wall, and niche had different colors to create different combinations. It all illustrated my forever, ongoing investigation of color. In terms of color theory, I always say, “Color is always relative, never absolute. It’s what you put next to it that defines it.” 

How do you hope viewers of your work feel when experiencing it? 

Confusion. New dazzling perspectives. Playfulness and beauty.

What’s your favorite color? 

It changes all the time… right now, lime-ish yellow.

But an all-time favorite is peach— delicate, social, warm, playful, yet sophisticated. 

Sesame Workshop recently underwent a brand revamp courtesy of New York-based design agency Trollbäck+Company, in an effort to level up their look and feel to reflect their important work. The brief was to develop a flexible and vibrant brand expression system that brings awareness to Sesame Workshop’s global mission and unites an ecosystem that spans 150 countries. The resulting system is bold and warm with a dash of experimentation, including a new logo, a recurring visual motif of connecting streets and intersections, and a youthful color palette.

Executive Creative Director at Trollbäck+Company, Rosie Garschina, led on the project in close collaboration with Victor Newman of the Sesame Workshop team. Both Garschina and Newman answered a few of my questions about the lively and fun redesign below.

What were your main goals for this redesign?

Newman: Sesame Workshop was born in the 1960s during the American civil rights movement. We’ve always been a nonprofit, mission-driven organization helping kids grow smarter, stronger, and kinder. We’re best known for Sesame Street. The series has held a meaningful place in children’s and families’ hearts for over 50 years. We knew that a strong design and creativity could help us create deeper connections with kids, families, and fans— our multigenerational audience. Our goal was to elevate and unify the Sesame Street and Sesame Workshop brands domestically and globally.

Garschina: It was especially important that the design system grow awareness and provide clarity around Sesame Workshop’s nonprofit work. Their social initiatives tackle some of the biggest challenges children and families face. It was critical that we were bringing attention to this work.

What are the most important considerations to keep in mind when retooling a beloved legacy brand like Sesame Street and Sesame Workshop?

Newman: Sesame Workshop is a visionary and experimental organization, and everyone has a special connection with Sesame Street, whether it’s a favorite Muppet, a song, or a story. It’s an inviting place that is playful and joyful. Sesame Workshop and Sesame Street share the same DNA. The design had to truly reflect that.

Garschina: Providing clarity and distinction between Sesame Street and Sesame Workshop was an important consideration. The brands share the same DNA and are interconnected, but differ in terms of their focus. We had to be strategic in identifying which elements would unify as well as differentiate.

What elements of the redesign are you proudest of?

Newman: The refreshed identity leans into one of the most salient qualities of Sesame Street— that it feels like a real place; a safe space for children to learn, feel, grow, and explore. The Sesame Workshop logo adopted the right number of visual cues— such as the horizontal containers that nod to the Sesame Street sign— and is in alignment with our philanthropic work.

Garschina: The new design builds a flexible and vibrant brand system that brings awareness to Sesame Workshop’s global mission and unites an ecosystem spanning 150 countries. It will help Sesame Workshop reach its full philanthropic potential everywhere it works to help children, from Brooklyn to Ukraine. Working with Victor and the entire organization to drive their mission has been an enormous privilege.

While the Mosaic Tile House is open to most through self-guided Saturday afternoon tours at $20 a pop, I am lucky enough to find myself personally escorted about the kaleidoscopic grounds by none other than the lady of the house herself, Cheri Pann. She and her husband, Gonzalo Duran, have lived at 1116 Palms Boulevard since March 1, 1994, when they bought the house in its original, ho-hum state. A grainy photo of the pre-tiled iteration of the house is displayed in a plastic frame on a tiled bistro table at the entrance of the front yard. The original house appears pedestrian and quaint, painted in what looks like a light moss color with red trim. While other buyers might have simply thrown on a fresh coat of paint or done a bit of landscaping work and called it a day, Cheri and Gonzalo had other ideas. 

“We bought the property to build our art studios,” Cheri tells me at the top of the tour. She has rust red hair and a big grin she flashes at the end of most sentences. “Then we started tiling it right away.” After 29 years of nonstop tiling, the Mosaic Tile House is now a veritable fortress of prismatic wonder, with completely tiled pathways, archways, walls, benches, and sculptures throughout. 

Cheri slowly leads me through the front yard, her delicate voice bouncing about the shimmering structures with the sunshine. I follow in awe. “I make all the tiles you see,” she says proudly. “Gonazalo makes the blue and white ones because his major in art school was illustration, and he likes to illustrate quotes; they’re everywhere. But mostly I make the tile and then he sets the tile and makes the form.”

Cheri and Gonzalo are both trained fine artists: Cheri’s worked in paint for the last 63 years, while Gonzalo specializes in painting and constructing automaton sculptures. “I have a Master’s in Fine Art from university, so that’s what sets this house apart from folk art,” she says. “Everything’s done through the eyes of painters. That’s what we both do, mainly.” Neither Cheri nor Gonzalo had any real experience in mosaic tiles before they started tiling their house together, but nevertheless, they felt compelled to do so. 

The intense love that’s shared between these two artists radiates from each tiled detail, from the love letters to Cheri that Gonzalo has painted onto his illustrated tiles, to the hearts patterned throughout the property, to the countless other tender moments embedded into the design. I ask Cheri how she and Gonzalo met. “He was working at [Culver City paint shop] Nova Color, where I was buying paint, and I reached over the counter and started kissing him,” she says directly. “And here we are, 31 years later! So it pays to reach over the counter and kiss someone.” I laugh nervously, replaying the recent interactions I’ve had with the shopkeepers at the art store in my neighborhood. 

“I guess for your generation, it’s really hard to meet people; you have to go online,” Cheri continues, her thoughts unspooling gently as we walk. “But, see, I have to tell you: there’s somebody right in front of you, and you have to just be aware when you go shopping, when you’re doing anything. I met him while he was selling paint, for goodness sake. It took a long time though, because he was a confirmed bachelor,” she admits. “It took him seven years to move in. We’d already built the studios and everything. I’d already been married twice though, so I didn’t care.”

Cheri guides me down a pathway to the side of the house as I haplessly take photos that don’t even come close to capturing the surrounding splendor. “I get a kick out of sitting down and watching people explore and have so much fun,” she says of people like me visiting her Mosaic Tile House for the first time. “Sometimes it’s kids, but mostly it’s adult couples. It’s also nice for me to get to look at it through somebody else’s eyes.” When she and Gonzalo first started hosting tours back in the mid ‘90s, they’d have about 15 to 20 people come each month. But since the advent of Instagram about a decade ago, that number has climbed to 50 to 150 visitors a month, all funneling through during a three-hour window on Saturdays. 

When guests arrive, they can take a print-out of features to find around the grounds, including an elephant with a chicken on top, a flying man, an iguana, a panda, and, one of Cheri and Gonzalo’s latest additions, a dragon. But otherwise visitors are encouraged to explore in whatever direction they’re pulled, choosing their own adventure. “I like it,” Cheri says of having strangers in her space. “I let them explore, and then they get what they get from it. But I’m always happy to answer questions, no problem.” 

We come upon a man quietly tiling one of the house’s already tiled walled. “This is our incredible worker Gerardo,” says Cheri. “He’s been with us for 15 years. He works here full-time. Gonzalo shows him which tiles, and he’s the one who actually puts the tiles on the wall now.” Each segment of the house features a carefully considered amalgamation of porcelain oddities, scavenged doo-dads, and pre-loved tchotchkes. A curvature of coffee mugs loops into the sky to my left, green glass bottles melted flat in Cheri’s kiln swirl in a pattern of concentric circles beneath my feet, and a large caterpillar bench protrudes from one of the walls.

Cheri excitedly brings me to a small mirrored box that’s been built into the wall by the caterpillar bench. “This is going to have shoes in it,” she explains. “We already had some shoes in it, but it got wet from all of the rain.” She then ushers me into her studio to show me the replacement shoes in question. “The only time I’ll take people inside the studio is if they really show interest in my crazy paintings,” she says as we enter a large room filled with tables covered in tiles in various stages of production. “But most people don’t even look at the paintings. They’re not religious; they’re just very personal. People don’t know how to deal with that.” Two of the walls in Cheri’s studio are covered in a series of brightly colored portraits— one wall features paintings entirely of Cheri, and the other is just Gonzalo. “These are all Gonzalo, from hair to no hair,” she says with her biggest smile yet. 

A menagerie of miniature shoe figurines is displayed on one of her work tables, which will be placed in the mirrored box in the wall. Like many of the building materials used in the house, these shoes were a donation. People bring items to Cheri and Gonzalo for their mosaicing, sometimes even in truckloads. “Social media works really well in that way too,” says Cheri. “You can say ‘I need this’ and you’ll get 400 pieces of it.” They also source supplies from the 99 Cents Store and Goodwill. 

Through a door at the back of Cheri’s studio is Gonzalo’s studio, where she and I find him hunched over a workbench while wearing a metal face mask and using a sparking mechanical tool. He greets us kindly, but is too focused on the task at hand for much more than that. “Gonzalo will work on a project for a bit and then just move onto the next,” says Cheri. “Men are so different from us. Haven’t you noticed that?”  

We move on to the back of the backyard beyond their two studios. Cheri shows me her hot tub that’s shrouded in a canopy of tiled arches. She uses it every night. We head back in the direction we came in, where Cheri points out a wall that depicts characters and scenes from Alice in Wonderland. As my tour with Cheri winds down, Gonzalo ambles out of his studio. He insists on taking a special photo of me in a strategically placed shard of a mirror. He tells me exactly where to stand, and positions my iPhone in front of the tiny mirror just so, so that he has the perfect angle to snap the picture. “Now you’re part of the town,” he says. “Hey, that’s a nice ring,” he adds as he hands the phone back to me, no doubt assessing how he’d be able to incorporate the aquamarine stone on my finger into his next project.  

The Mosaic Tile House is more than a house, and even more than a work of art: it’s a journey, a physical encapsulation of Cheri and Gonzalo’s love for one another, and their love for one another as artists. And for now, at least, that journey continues, despite running out of real estate. “He has more ideas, and I say, ‘Well, I don’t think there are many walls left here,’” Cheri says. She explains how they’ve consulted with architects in the past who have told them that they can’t tile above a certain portion of the house’s facade, so all they can do is paint. “We have to move and start with a new house,” Gonzalo jokes. Or is he?

Cheri and I have completed our loop of the grounds and find ourselves back in the front yard at the base of an orange tree. A woman walks by the house’s front gate on the sidewalk and compliments Cheri on her beautiful home. I ask her what her neighbors make of what she and Gonzalo have created. “Well, they like it, but almost no one on the block has seen the house,” she says. “They’re not drawn to mosaic tile; they take it for granted. Even the neighbors on either side of us hadn’t come here until finally they visited last year.”

“I’ll visit you anytime,” I tell her. And I mean it. It’s time to go, but I don’t want to leave. The Mosaic Tile House is an escape from reality; a magical realist dream world concocted by two abundantly generous spirits united by their love of art, each other, and an insatiable desire to keep creating. “We had no clue that this was what this was going to turn out to be— and that we would still be obsessed with it,” Cheri says, reaching up to pick one of the perfectly ripe oranges above her. I thank her for her kindness, and for so intimately opening up her home and heart to me. “Yeah, a little too intimate, huh? But I’m a sharer. Cheri the sharer.”

What do all of these movies have in common? Other than being classic—dare I say iconic?—films that have each played a role in defining American cinema, they all have another connective thread of which even the biggest cinephiles are likely unaware… 

These classics are just a few titles from a laundry list of beloved cinematic masterpieces that all have opening credits created by the same title designer, Dan Perri.

Don’t be too hard on yourself for not knowing this— it’s a sad reality that title designers are unfairly under-acknowledged on the whole, and are rarely given the credit (pun semi-intended) that they so sorely deserve. Considering his staggeringly impressive resume, Dan Perri should be a household name. The Star Wars opening titles alone should be enough to put Perri up there with other film greats in terms of recognition, yet very few viewers probably even consider the creators behind these works of art. 

Luckily there are a subset of advocates for title designers like Perri within the cinematic universe, such as those at the Museum of the Moving Image in New York City, where an exhibition chronicling Perri’s 50-year career is now on view. ‘Dan Perri and the Art of the Title Sequence’ is led by the Deputy Director for Curatorial Affairs Barbara Miller alongside guest curator Lola Landekic (the Editor-in-Chief of the project Art of the Title). It includes a video interview, sketches, storyboards, type, logo designs, and other production material from a range of films Perri played no small part in putting on the map. Ultimately, the exhibition serves as a long-overdue celebration of an unsung and often overlooked aspect of filmmaking by highlighting the work of a legend in the field. 

I recently had the great joy of chatting with Perri directly about his journey as a title designer and his exhibition. How does one get into creating title sequences in the first place? What’s the process like for coming up with a title sequence? What was it like designing one of the most identifiable and revered title sequences of all time? I had to find out from the master himself. 

Perri was first introduced to graphic advertising design at his high school in Los Angeles, thanks to his art teacher, Barbara Brooks, who had been an agency art director on Madison Avenue in the ’50s. As it turns out, she used issues of PRINT as reference materials for students, and it was in these very copies of PRINT that Perri first discovered the work of the world-renowned graphic designer Saul Bass. “I studied him and loved what he did and wanted to be like him,” Perri told me. “I developed my style to reflect some of his characteristics and approaches to design. Then, luckily, I learned that Saul had offices right in LA on Sunset Boulevard.”

By that time, Perri was already working for himself as a sign painter, painting signs for businesses in and around LA. “So I was aware of and familiar with type, and as I learned more about letters and type styles and so on, I became very interested in designing letterforms.” After learning that his hero Saul Bass lived and worked in the same city that he did, Perri decided he needed to meet him directly and show him his work. So with his portfolio in tow, Perri began taking periodic trips to Bass’s offices in the hopes of grabbing his attention from the building’s lobby. Perri never had an appointment, but what he did have proved to be more valuable: undying persistence and the confidence of naivety. 

Finally Perri’s determination paid off when, one day, Bass himself walked past him in the building lobby. “I introduced myself and he invited me into his office, where he very graciously and very patiently looked at all of my work— every single piece that was there,” Perri told me. “He critiqued me and decided that I had something that he was interested in. He said he wanted me to come back and that he would keep track of me and what I was doing. He offered to give me advice and help me learn more about the world of design that I wanted to be a part of so badly.” 

Perri’s career took a slight detour when he joined the Navy during the Vietnam War, but he was fortunate enough to continue designing while enlisted. “I worked as a journalist in the Navy on a couple of different ships. I designed and wrote a newspaper every day, and did a lot of graphic design for different things within the Navy,” he said. After this stint, he ventured back to Bass, who offered him a job. “But something went off in my head,” Perri told me. “I said to myself, If Saul Bass wants me, I must be good enough. So I turned down the job and I opened my own little studio.” 

After striking out on his own, Perri partnered with an old high school classmate of his, Steve Smith, who had been working at an aftereffects house and had experience in title design and creating art for the screen. They launched their own independent design studio together called Perri & Smith, where their opening title sequence for the 1973 film Electra Glide in Blue caught the attention of the director William Friedkin, who then hired Perri to design the opening titles for The Exorcist (1973). 

This was Perri’s first solo project, and the success of the film catapulted him into title design stardom. “The Exorcist was one of the first big blockbusters, so once that hit, everyone in the industry knew who worked on the film; suddenly I was the flavor of the week,” Perri said. “This was in 1974, and it’s been that way ever since. I’ve been so lucky and fortunate that I’ve never had a day without work.”   

At 77, Perri is still designing titles to this day. He’s also teaching and speaking at film schools, design schools, and festivals all over the US, and even in Europe, spreading his wealth of knowledge with the next generation of title designers. “There’s an enormous amount of interest in my work,” Perri said. “Students always want to know how I did things, especially when I was working optically, which was much more primitive in its mechanics. They want to know how to put something on film, compared to the ease of doing it digitally. They’re always very curious to know what it took for me to do the titles for Nashville (1975), or Taxi Driver (1976), or any of the other films that I’ve done on film.” 

When it comes to Perri’s title design process, of course there is far more than meets the eye. “There’s two levels: there’s the titles themselves, and then there’s whatever the titles are with on screen,” Perri told me. There are also many parties involved in the production of a film who need to be appeased within a given title sequence, ranging from the filmmakers and the studio to the distribution companies and the actors and technicians. Title sequence stipulations for each of these entities are governed by their hyper-meticulous contracts. “Oftentimes, the lead actors’ names have to be the same size as the title; they go into extreme detail about needing to be the same size, same color, same type style, same height, same thickness and so on, so I have to be aware of all of those sorts of requirements.” 

From there, Perri tackles the background imagery for the sequence. “Sometimes I might shoot them, or direct them, or find artwork, or take photographs, or decide that they will be on black, or whatever it is,” he said. Perri is also a completist with his practice, who demands full creative control of his title sequences from start to finish. “Because I’m a specialist, people want me to create sequences for the film rather than just designing a logo, and pass it off to them and hope they put it on screen the way I envisioned it. I require that I handle the entire project; I design the logo, all the titles, and then I supervise putting it together and delivering it completed. I’ve enjoyed a lot of autonomy in my work. Fortunately, I’m trusted and respected and given the reins to do what I think is best.” 

The ideation process for Perri seems more like a preternatural gift than anything else. All he requires is a pencil and paper. “I will view the film and then come up with ideas. These ideas are still a mystery to me; I don’t know where they come from. They’re just suddenly in my mind’s eye. I see images, I see motion, I see whole sequences sometimes, all based upon my emotional reaction to viewing the film. It’s a simple process,” he told me. “Once I get an idea, I literally have to scramble to find a piece of paper to draw it out. I always use a pencil with an eraser on the back of it so that I can draw something and then erase it and change it and so on. This is a process that has been with me ever since I began when I was painting signs; I would sketch them out with paper and pencil. It’s worked for me all this time and I still do it exactly the same way. If I don’t capture an idea on paper right away, sometimes it goes away, it just evaporates; it’s gone, I can’t remember it. So it’s a process that requires a very quick response to the idea.”

Perri’s brain is so prolific that he usually fields a handful of concepts. “I’m fortunate that, not only do I get one idea, but I get many ideas,” he said. “There’s an ongoing thing where one might pop up in my head suddenly a day after watching the film, or come out of something that I thought of yesterday. So it’s a very exciting ongoing creative process for me.” 

Once the idea has blossomed, Perri begins to explore how to apply it to the screen. “Now, with computers, I can just scan my drawing and start manipulating it on the computer. But the computer is just a tool. It’s a terrific tool, but it’s dependent upon the idea,” he said. “You can then take it a lot farther because of the ability of the computer, but without the idea, there’s nothing. I live on my ideas.”

For someone who’s worked in the same industry for 50 years and counting, Perri has witnessed the evolution of title sequences and their production process firsthand. “There’s a lot more technology available for designers to use now, and so many sequences have become much more complex,” he said. “They’re very busy and full of many design elements. Sometimes, I think they have too many tools to do too many things with. Oftentimes, I think less is better.” 

Aside from obvious advancements in technology and the leap from film to digital, there’s also been a dramatic shift in the structure of the title sequence industry, which has moved from individual title artists to large groups of designers who work for studios. “When I first started out and for most of my career, we all did our work personally. Myself and most of my competitors— Saul Bass and others— did our work and got credit for it as an individual. But nowadays, title sequences are done within teams, with names like Digital Kitchen or Imaginary Forces or Prologue. They approach and solve the problem of what to design for the film as a group. They collaborate with each other and then they attack the director with all of these ideas from all different directions and all different viewpoints. They may produce a better product— I don’t know!” Perri said. “But when people want me to work on a film, they want me. They don’t want people who work for me, or some team or group of people— they want me.”

Perri has always been incredibly protective of his creative vision for his projects, and has rejected any notions of expanding to work with other designers. “I’ve never had any collaborating designers in my studio that work for me, nor have I ever hired anyone to design something for me that I then pass off to the director,” he said. “I reached a point years ago where I had so much work that I had to make a decision: should I work more like Saul Bass where I hire a few designers with me, and supervise them and develop their ideas, and then take it to the client as mine? Or should I start turning jobs down and only do what I can do myself? That’s what I chose to do, and I still operate that way; I can’t let go of any of it. I’m always grateful for having that autonomy, that control of my work, and that appreciation of it. That’s why I still work— because I still enjoy that.”

While Perri has been fortunate to mostly collaborate with directors who respect his legacy and vision, there have been a few trickier experiences, not least of which came when creating his most well-known title sequence, the scrolling opening credits for Star Wars. “I always thought of it as a stupid space movie, and when I was working on the film, it was not a good experience for me,” he told me candidly. “Working with George Lucas was not a thrill. He was very put-upon and overwhelmed, and always angry and difficult. He was known for not being able to communicate what he wanted very well, so people were always trying to drag it out of him.”

The process for creating what might be Hollywood’s most well-branded title sequence was such a pain that Perri was eager to get it over with. “Whenever I would go out to ILM [Industrial Light & Magic], I’d wait for him for hours to show him things that I’d brought,” he said. “Finally, when he looked at it, he never liked it, and would send me off with some other idea, or something else to look at. It wasn’t fun to have to wait for him to then be criticized by him and rejected. When I finally came up with the idea that we used, I was glad to just see the end of the road and be done so that I could move on with another project.”

Likely due in part to these negative associations, Perri did not expect the fanatic reception of his work on the film. “I was amazed, and I’m still amazed. It’s never ended,” he told me. “I meet people all the time who realize that I did those titles and they’ll flip out. They can’t believe that they’re meeting the person who did the title sequence that apparently is so important to them. They have to sit me down, and they have to tell me everything about the day they first saw the film. It’s just astonishing. I look at them in wonderment. The film itself never really impressed me a whole lot, but I know that hundreds of millions of people around the world feel differently about it.”

Perri has had a handful of unforgettable encounters with the franchise’s notoriously feverish fanbase. “I’ve been invited to go to Star Wars conventions to sign autographs, and I’ve seen the whole gambit of these Star Wars maniacs,” he continued. “They wait in line to get my autograph or to take pictures with me; sometimes people will have me sign their forehead or the top of their head. One young woman had me sign across the top of her breasts!” 

Now, thanks to the Museum of the Moving Image exhibition, more than just these Star Wars die-hards have gotten to fawn over Perri and his work. The designer himself initiated it, as part of his desire and need to share his work. “It happens that I do something that is appreciated by people, and I want to pass it on to the next generation; I want to share what I’ve done and what I know. I feel obligated to do that,” he said. He’s done this previously by teaching and speaking to students, writing his book Hollywood Titles Designer: A Life in Film, and now through the ‘Dan Perri and the Art of the Title Sequence’ exhibit. 

“When I saw it and walked through it, I was thrilled, almost to where it felt like I was seeing someone else’s work,” Perri reflected on seeing the exhibition in person for the first time. “I was impressed; I’ve never seen all of my work together at one time. Sure, I can watch videos of my work strung together one after another, but it’s not the same as being in this space, where there’s the actual objects that I created and filmed and used in different projects.” 

The exhibition is on view through January 1 within the museum’s Video Screening Amphitheater, but it’s safe to say Perri’s legacy will live on forever.