The Blackmail » Design

Just Say Yes

tristan — Mon, 01 Aug 2011 00:25:45 +0000

Text: Jill Greig Images: Georgia Perry

Georgia Perry is a designer with a penchant for clarity and colour. The content of her multidisciplinary work is varied, but connected by her recognisable aesthetic: a sense of simplicity, and a light and bright execution. Ahead of Georgia’s involvement in ‘A Touch of Class’ for Sydney Design Week, Jillian Greig caught up with her to talk about the creative process, girls in design and hot dogs.

Jillian Greig: First up, why don’t you tell me a bit about how you got into design?

Georgia Perry: I didn’t really think about it – I was just always going to do it I think. When I was little I was always doing arty stuff and I didn’t really know what a graphic designer was until I finished high school, but I always knew that I wanted to do something arty. Then I found out that you could make money by doing design instead of just straight visual art and it was pretty perfect.

JG: So as a kid did you draw a lot?

GP: Yes. I was always making weird stuff and had ridiculous amounts of stationery and textas and stuff like that.

JG: What was your favourite medium as a kid?

GP: Pretty much the same stuff that I work with now – markers and textas…

JG: Your Mac?

GP: Haha…and my Mac. I remember getting in trouble so clearly. Once, in Kindergarten, the teacher gave us a worksheet that we had to colour in and I got into trouble for doing the wrong thing and colouring outside the lines and using the wrong things like bright coloured textas when we were only allowed to use pencil. And it was just like, ‘Nup. Rulebook not for me, I’m just going to do what I want and I don’t want to be in the lines, lady’.

JG: Young and rebellious! Can you tell me a bit about the design you do now for work, with Debaser, and the design you do for fun? Is there a clear distinction between the two?

GP: No, not really. Only in that the stuff I do for work, well, I’d never really worked in a commercial way before. As soon as I finished uni I was doing freelance jobs here and there, but before working in a studio I never had to get stuff to a really finished stage – so getting stuff to production and doing massive jobs that get a million copies printed, that was different.

But where I work I’m actually really lucky because I can integrate my own style because it’s all for the music industry, so a lot of it is really creative and because we don’t do anything corporate like reports or anything like that, it’s all pretty arty, kinda fun stuff. A lot of the time I do get to do the stuff I like – like illustration and colouring-in and drawing and combining them. So there’s not really that much of a distinction. Only that my freelance is probably more purely illustration and then my fulltime job is more of the design.

JG: Your creative output takes many different forms – you dabble in a few different realms – illustration, typography, photography etc. and you’re quite prolific! Do you have a favourite way to work and can you tell me a bit about your process?

GP: It’s kind of weird because I don’t really see the work I do as work, so I do so much different stuff all the time because it’s just kind of…me…living?

JG: Just living my life, man!

GP: Yeah! I’m just living my life! No, I did go to design school but I kind of thought this way before then. I guess it’s like a part of your brain that’s always turned on once you tap into it. So I constantly see new ideas and I think of new things to do all the time. Once that design part of my brain has been activated it’s permanently on. I guess that’s why I always move into different areas and mediums, because I’m always experimenting and thinking of new things I want to try out. Doing what I do, it’s really good because you can always combine everything and I don’t have to purely be an illustrator and I don’t have to purely be a designer. It’s good to be able to do everything.

JG: And what about your process – when you get a new project where do you begin?

GP: It depends what it is. Especially with my fulltime work, it starts with meeting bands or chatting with a client about stuff they really love or stuff they really hate; then visual stuff, like researching on the Internet and looking at shitloads of books. I guess a basic process is kind of the same for each project – you’ll start researching in some way or another and that’s a good part of it too because you could get a new project and all of a sudden you’re looking into stuff and learning stuff about an area you’d never even thought about before.

I recently did this illustration job for this Indian festival and all of a sudden I had to start researching Indian culture and the way things are celebrated there and it was really amazing – but the day before I’d never even thought about it.

JG: Did you see the colour festival? It’s really cool.

GP: Yeah! Isn’t it amazing? I love it because you’ll get a phone call or an email and then you’re put on this new path of looking into something that you’ve never even really thought about before. You don’t know what the next job’s going to be or who’s going to call, so it’s really cool because your path is always being pushed in different directions.

JG: Do you have a favourite topic, subject or theme that you’re exploring at the moment?

GP: Not really. My favourite stuff like that is pretty constant. I like old children’s books and I like really minimal, flat shapes and colours – I don’t really like texture very much.

JG: For the MCA zine fair I saw you working on some zines featuring cute foodstuffs and little characters – do you have a favourite thing to depict?

GP: Oh yeah – like something I’m drawing heaps at the moment? I’m pretty into drawing food at the moment. I’d like to do a recipe book or something similar with someone. I made a zine about junk food – yeah, it’s weird, I don’t know – why did I do that? I’m into junk food and drawing hot dogs and shit like that at the moment. If I’m doodling when I’m on the phone, that’s probably what I’m drawing. It’s weird. Hot dogs, kittens – whatever has come into my life at that point.

JG: It seems to be mainly fun stuff, which is nice.

GP: Yeah. I don’t know, a lot of people say that. I mean I also like to use every colour, all the time. I like minimal Swiss-style design and simplistic stuff, but I like using shitloads of colours. I’m kind of taking that minimal approach but flipping it a bit.

JG: Maxing it out when it comes to the colour?

GP: Yeah, just like I wasn’t meant to in Kindergarten when I got told off. I like stuff to be bright and happy and I don’t like serious stuff really…at all.

JG: Is that a conscious decision or do you just find yourself all of a sudden drawing hot dogs and ice creams and thinking, ‘oh well, I’m doing it again…’?

GP: Yeah! No, it’s not conscious. I don’t know…I’m not a very serious person and I feel like there’s already enough boring, serious stuff in the world and I’d rather just make stuff that’s fun and cute.

JG: So you mentioned that you’d be interested in collaborating on a cookbook. Other than that, what would be your ultimate project?

GP: Well, doing the mural that I’m about to do is pretty ultimate. I’ve never really done anything at that kind of scale before and something that’s so…it’s just out there in the world. I mean, I do drawings and I have a blog and I work for music artists, but I don’t feel like they have the ability to reach the amount of people that a mural would because a mural is something that’s permanently out there in the world, and people will be walking past it.

JG: That was the result of a council grant, right?

GP: Yeah it’s City of Sydney – part of Art and About. So they commission artists every year and give them spots around the city to put things.

JG: Can we reveal the location?

GP: Yeah, it’s not going to be up until later, but it’s Nithsdale Lane in Surry Hills. It’s pretty tucked away but that’s kind of cool. It will be quite a surprise for people I think, because it’s going to be really full-on and bright and it’s kind of a dingy area that I never really knew was there!

JG: Any hot dogs?

GP: No! There’s no hot dogs in there but there will be other cute stuff!

JG: Awesome. So what else are you working on at the moment?

GP: I’m into collage and cutting instead of drawing. So cutting out shapes to make images. Henri Matisse had this theory – I think it was actually called ‘cutting as drawing’ – but he did what is just about my favourite piece of art of all time, The Snail. It’s about 4 metres by 4 metres and has these massive squares of paper arranged into this coil, which is this beautiful, really simple snail.

It’s in the Tate in London. I saw it when I was over there and it totally changed my outlook on making stuff. Assembling stuff into shapes instead of drawing shapes. I am kind of doing that more in my practice at the moment.

JG: You’re involved in a show for Sydney Design Week – can you tell me about that?

GP: Yeah. That’s on Wednesday. It’s called ‘A Touch of Class’. I think the whole theme for Sydney Design Week is about old being new again, so the girls who started this really cool blog called ‘Tough Titties’ asked me to take part. They’re really awesome and they promote females in the design industry because it can be a total boys club – I work with two dudes, all the photographers we get in are dudes, all the freelancers we get in are dudes, retouchers are always dudes – and before these guys, in Sydney I didn’t feel like there was much of an avenue to promote females doing design and other cool stuff.

So it’s really awesome that they’ve started it and they’ll be doing more exhibitions and artist interviews and stuff. This exhibition is about twenty female artists and it’s really going to be good because I like being given an item and just seeing what people do with it. I like going to exhibitions like that where everyone has the same starting point.

JG: And that was a doily, right?

GP: Yes – a giant doily!

You can catch Georgia Perry at A Touch of Class Somedays Gallery, 72B Fitzroy St, Surry Hills. Launch this Wednesday August 3 from 6pm.

Next story: Homme Time – Pageant

One Basket

tristan — Sun, 03 Jul 2011 11:01:02 +0000

Text: Fleur Mitchell Images: Greedy Hen

Greedy Hen is power duo Katherine Brickman and Kate Mitchell. Two insanely creative women who produce everything from video art, tour posters and album cover – and that’s only the beginning. No matter what the medium, their work is distinctive and instantly recognisable. Greedy Hen is defined by a subtle balance of naivety and old world weirdness, coupled with a darkly humorous, witchy vibe. It’s sort of like Victorian decoupage turned upside down and back to front, with a home spun, handmade touch that is present in everything they create.

Greedy Hen took time out to let Fleur Mitchell pick their brains and talk about, amongst other things, super-fiction, dream projects and the power of teamwork.

Fleur Mitchell: First off, how did you guys come to meet and form Greedy Hen?

Greedy Hen: We met years ago studying art. We then, quite organically, started working together kicking ideas around over a game of ping pong to see how far we could push an idea and then see if we could pull it off. Magically we always do!

FM: The creative output of Greedy Hen spans so many different forms from music clips to decoupaging plaster casts. What other creative mediums do you want to explore?

GH: We like exploring new mediums, seeing how ideas can manifest. It’s the most exciting thing, not being restricted or pigeon holed by a particular medium. That’s how we like to roll. Probably more explorations into different types of handmade animation, film techniques, we’d also like to experiment with printing onto fabrics, wearable art, and eventually we really want to look at making an epic Greedy Hen art book. We sometimes get worried that we won’t be able to do all the things we want to do within our lifetime.

FM: Greedy Hen has a really recognisable, yet unique style. How would you describe your aesthetic?

GH: Our work is tactile, messy, mixed media. Our backgrounds are in fine arts and so the way we look at things, the way we talk about things conceptually is informed by that. We’re just a couple of artists that happen to do a whole lot of things and get excited about a number of different mediums. we don’t like to limit ourselves with boundaries; we make art, we illustrate, we work in graphic design, we direct music videos, we make gig visuals, we make objects, we collage. Basically we cover so many different areas it seems a little archaic and stuffy to put ourselves into a box.

But the great thing we’ve discovered about all this kingdom crossing is that for some reason, because we made it with our hands, it will always look like a Greedy Hen work no matter what medium. If we cooked a spaghetti everyone would know it was a Greedy Hen spaghetti just by the feeling it has. Like a very beautiful, slightly sinister, funny bolognaise.

FM: Your work perfectly blends a twee old world innocence with a darker, all knowing and humorous element. Do you enjoy the interplay between the two?

GH: We like when an image has more to it. When things look familiar like an old folk tale, but there’s something else going on that you can’t quite put your finger on. Imagery that you can sit with for a while trying to work out, but never actually come to a conclusion. We also love uncomfortable Andy Kaufman style humour. So our art work in a way blends all these things together and that interplay is what we find forever interesting and challenging.

FM: Tell me about your recent exhibition at Lamington Drive Gallery Greedy Hen: Debut Album. You guys created a fictional band and all the trappings (except the sounds) that go along with it. What was the creative trigger that led you to create that work?

GH: Well the basic premise of the show is a Super-Fiction: What would Greedy Hen be like if we were a band? At our studio we make a lot of album artwork, tour posters, and direct music clips for a variety of bands and musicians so we thought we’d see what it would look like if the tables were turned and we were our own heroes.

Visually, the show is predominately art prints. We made an album cover, wrote a track list of 10 songs, then we created an artwork for each of those 10 songs. The album launch is touring so we’ll have two more shows after the Melbourne exhibition, and as we go on the show is evolving.

We’re filming a music film clip of our hit single, pressing vinyl records with no grooves, and all the other visual cues that go along with an album launch, radio interviews, tour posters, etc. But there is no sound or music what so ever. We leave the void to the viewer to fill in. So that’s the general conceptual vibe.

FM: Other than Greedy Hen (of course), what band do you wish you could have been/be a member of?

GH: Kate wants to actually be Johnny Cash. Katherine wants to actually be Jonathan Richman.

FM: How do you go from the seed of an idea to it being fully realised? What’s your creative process like?

GH: In a behind the scenes way we work like a tag team, Kate is the building blocks and Katherine is the fine details obsessive-compulsive finesse! Kate is the brain and Katherine is the eyes. Kate works best in the mornings and Katherine excels in the evening. You see? team effort wins the race! Kate usually ’feels’ something and Katherine has a ‘clear vision’ of what it is. Then we bounce ideas around like ping pong, until it’s on it’s way. We work best when a client lets us run loose and we’re free to move in whatever direction we want. Or better still when there’s no client and it’s an art project.

FM: Is it challenging working as a duo or does it have advantages? ?

GH: It’s like going on a choose your own adventure with someone else. You might end up in quicksand or on the secret level and you’ve got someone else there along for the ride.

FM: What themes, ideas and golden nuggets of goodness are you into at the moment?

GH: We’ve always been quite inspired by quirky nuances in the everyday like fogged up eye glasses, blue ink stains in the pocket of business man’s shirt, 60 cents under the couch, broken glass on the footpath looking like diamonds, dogs looking like their owners….

FM: What would your dream creative project be?

GH: Greedy Hen’s dream projects would be publishing a book and seeing the completion of a Greedy Hen clothing (and objects) range called ‘Adventure Club’. Kate’s dream project would be looking after an island. Katherine’s dream project would be swinging in a hammock on Kate’s island.

FM: What are you working on at the moment?

GH: We are working on a ‘live animation’ set with an overhead projector for the Oxford Art Factory Free Fall program, which is curated by John Douglas. We have the show coming up at Chalk Horse Gallery and we’re also chiseling away at putting together our art book opus.

Greedy Hen: Debut Album opens at Chalk Horse Gallery on Thursday September 29

Greedy Hen

Next story: Against The World – Dan Du Bern

Tokyo Drift

tristan — Wed, 01 Jun 2011 00:02:11 +0000

Text: Emma Capps Images: James Nelson & Tokyo Bike

On the morning of a recent, glaringly beautiful Autumn day, I had the pleasure of speaking with Yuki Sugahara who, along with her husband, runs the year-old Tokyo Bike shop in Surry Hills, Sydney – a place so beguiling and nuanced that I’m still reflecting on what it is that makes this bike shop so singular.

The first permanent Tokyo Bike outside of Japan is tucked away on Marys Place, beside the bricked shoulder of the Beresford. Walking down the narrow lane, one is met with a thread of varicoloured bikes – sand brown, jeffer red, saffron, blue gray – indicating Tokyo Bike’s entrance. Available in four different models, the bikes all share their lightness of frame, the clarity of their design, and a smaller-than-average wheel circumference, which, combined, make for graceful, easy-to-ride, comfortable bikes.

Once inside, the shop itself is light, uncluttered, and subtly adorned with elements one would not usually find in a bike shop. Vases of carefully arranged flowers sit on various surfaces, incense perfume the air, wood logs tumble over each other with assorted bike-bells perched atop. All items in the shop seem arranged with precision and integrity. Perhaps it’s difficult for a reader to visualise without a visit to Toyko Bike – but all irrelevancies seem to have been eradicated, leaving all but a delicate, considered atmosphere.

The shop is often brimming with staff – Yuki and her husband, both from Tokyo, spend a lot of time amongst the bikes, along with their eight-month old baby boy. Also from Japan is Koji, the chief mechanic, who is, it must be said, immaculate; arriving to work in pristine clothes, and leaving at the end of a day spent assembling bikes, miraculously, still pristine. Michal from Prague, also a mechanic, is an ex-triathlete currently immersed in his English language studies. Wing, the shop manager and a graphic designer, arrived from Hong Kong a handful of years ago. As a result of the multinational backgrounds of the employees, communication between staff and customers is often punctuated with pantomimic gestures and fits of laughter.

Yuki is a warm, assertive woman, and a brilliantly animated conversationalist. She tells stories using lively hand gestures, leaning emphatically in to make a point, cocking her head to the side to ask her listener’s opinion. When she laughs, she leans her head back and really laughs. Her baby sits on her lap throughout our interview, bobbing up and down, staring into his mirror image in the window behind us, chirping happily to his own reflection.

Emma Capps: Yuki, can you tell me about how you initially became involved with Tokyo Bike?

Yuki Sugahara: We had our very first meeting in a café, me and my husband with the Tokyo Bike team in Japan, and they were just really lovely people – very grounded. The team was just the HQ President Ichiro, we call him Kin Chan, and the chief mechanic, and also Azusa, who is sort of, almost like, she’s the person who decides on colours, things like that – not everything, but Ichiro really depends on Azusa’s views on the look of the bikes. So Azusa is important, she has a very important role in the company. She does all the administration, but she’s also with Tokyo Bike for her advice on the look of the bikes.

EC: So, Azusa’s role is sort of like what an art director might do?

YS: Well, Ichiro does the design – so he’s the art director. But he might think of some vague ideas about something like the colour of the bikes, and when he needs to narrow it down, he presents his ideas to Azusa and asks, “What do you think?” You know, he doesn’t really care about what guys think, but what girls think.

Interesting isn’t it?

He cares, he cares. Because for him, he could kind of guess what the guys might want, because he’s a guy. But he really pays attention to girl’s opinions.

EC: Does this explain the more feminine touches in the shop, like the flowers, the incense and decorations, all those subtleties?

YS: Yes, because Tokyo Bike is really, actually targeting girls. Of course, we’re targeting everyone, but in terms of how Tokyo Bike is different from other more typical bike companies, I think the big difference is that Ichiro is concerned, he’s very concerned with women.

I think – well, I haven’t talked to major bike companies, but I don’t know if they care about what girls think. Which explains all those little things about us – like the flowers in the shop. And on top of that, we have female staff, which is uncommon for bike shops; and this is because Ichiro really cares about women.

EC: And there are other important concerns that really explain Ichiro’s ethos for the brand.

YS: For Ichiro, Tokyo Bikes are a way to move around the city and just enjoy it. With this in mind, the bikes need to be light, so that they are easy to ride, they need to be comfortable, and they should be reasonably priced, so that they can reach many people.

Tokyo is very famous for its bike culture. In Japan, beautiful bikes get produced that sell for thousands and thousands of dollars. But Tokyo Bike thought, well, our bike has to be at this price point, so that it’s accessible for a lot of people. And from that price point, we think about the mechanisms in the bike, so that each part can be the perfect part for that price point.

So, we know who we are targeting, and within our price point, we choose perfect parts, the best parts, so we are very confident in our bikes. It’s a very honest product, in that sense; we’re not pretending to be something more. It’s there, and it’s enough to support you as you enjoy your life.

Ichiro himself is written up as a keen cycling enthusiast, but he’s not actually. He wanted to design a bike that would be perfect for getting him to his favourite places – restaurants, cafes, cinemas. He’s someone who enjoys eating, drinking, socialising, going to museums, going to the park, he’s that kind of guy.

EC: So the bike is for him a way to appreciate living in the city.

YS: Exactly. It’s like for him, Ichiro is not a (boggles her eyes, and mimes gripping a bike’s handles, leaning forward and riding with mad enthusiasm) ‘huugggh’ bike guy, so that explains why Tokyo bike is not so…huugggh. It’s really relaxed. The whole thing.

EC: That makes so much sense. The design of the shop and all it’s contents seem so in line with that idea.

YS: Yes. Tokyo Bike exists to make life more colourful. And, we also introduce new colours every year – to make the bikes more lively.

EC: And how did it come about that Tokyo Bike came to Sydney?

YS: Well, the Tokyo Bike team in Tokyo initially met us [Yuki and her husband] by chance, and they told us that they were wanting to branch out into other countries outside Japan. They had been approached by many businesses in Europe, but weren’t sure how to proceed. And my husband and I were actually moving to Sydney anyway, and I thought Sydney could be nice for Tokyo Bike – so we all came, and saw the city. We didn’t see that many people riding bikes, but the weather, well, god people can ride their bikes all year-round here. Although there are hills, but they’re fine with gears.

So we felt, oh good, this works…or, it will work. It will probably take some time, because it’s education, people will have to learn about riding here…

EC: Why did you and your husband personally decide to move to Sydney?

YS: Sydney? We just liked it. We went on an around the world trip, just to see where we might want to live. We love Tokyo, we loved being there, but we felt it was becoming a little bit too easy for us. We had good jobs there, connections there… our favourite places… we were maybe a bit too comfortable.

EC: And you were working as an interior designer in Tokyo?

YS: Yes, I was doing a residential project with architects, but I also was working as an interpreter for visiting European designers doing interviews in Japan. And my husband was, and still is, running a startup company that caters for people in creative fields. A lot of creative people make beautiful things, but don’t know how to market them, or make money from them; so he connects them with the right people and makes it happen.

EC: Tell me about how you came to the design of the shop.

YS: All together, the team in Japan wanted to make it really simple – we almost didn’t want to do anything, we had this white space, and we almost could have done nothing to it. But we needed storage [the back wall of the shop is lined with perforated wooden floor-to-ceiling cupboards], and we also wanted to show the mechanics working in the shop. Like an open kitchen. A lot of the time, in other bike shops, mechanics are hidden, and you never see what’s going on, but I wanted to show them – because, of course, we assemble and service Tokyo Bikes here in the shop.

Importantly, we also wanted the bikes to be displayed outside, because we want people to take test-rides, and also, so much of the beauty of Tokyo Bike is the colours, so we wanted to show as many as we could. The headquarters in Yanaka have a similar space outside their shop as well.

EC: The shop always feels so lively. It has such a great atmosphere – I think a big reason for that is that you have staff from so many different countries. Was that accidental?

YS: Well, when we first opened the shop, it was me, I was very pregnant, and there was Koji and my husband. So it was Japanese staff only – people came in and said that it felt just like they were in Tokyo. I had this huge belly, Koji at the time didn’t speak a word of English – it was funny! It was very, uh, different (laughs).

The internationality of the staff was totally accidental, although we did want to have staff who weren’t Japanese, so it’s all turned out well.

EC: Yes, and although English is spoken, there are kind of three languages operating within the shop…

YS: Yes! Sure, it’s international – it’s fun!

EC: And your husband’s doing a big European trip at the moment, right?

YS: Yes, he’s now in Tokyo, then he’s flying to the UK, as there’s going to be a second pop-up in London, which will lead to a permanent shop. And we now have dealers in Copenhagen, Berlin, and Eindhoven in Holland. In Holland they are set up and selling already, in this great lifestyle shop called Piet Hein Eek. In Berlin, we are exhibiting at Design Week. And in Copenhagen, we will be selling Tokyo Bikes within another bike shop.

[Yuki's baby lets out a particularly noisy, happy squeal, and Yuki and I laugh]

EC: Your son is such a big part of the shop, I think, by chance, he ends up playing an significant role in people’s perceptions of the shop.

YS: I think so! When we agreed to help start up Tokyo Bike in Sydney, I wasn’t pregnant, but after we found out, the staff at the headquarters thought it was great. They were very supportive – if I could still manage the shop, they thought it would be awesome.

EC: Well, your family have such a presence in the shop, which is so different to how retail environments normally operate. You never really get a sense of people’s real lives. There’s generally a ‘retail’ façade, and you don’t get any idea of the anyone’s real personalities… where as here, you and your family are living your life, in the shop. You’ve got your baby in the shop, your husband co-runs the shop…

YS: Well, yes. We don’t want to be intimidating at all. If customers can feel relaxed because of us being like that, and hop on one of our bikes, take a test ride and just enjoy themselves, then it’s working, it’s good. We didn’t plan it this way, but if it helps, and if it makes people feel happy and comfortable, then that’s great.

Tokyo Bike

Next story: Watch Your Coat-tails – James Nelson

The Transitionist

tristan — Fri, 01 Oct 2010 01:48:18 +0000

Text: Sunday Ganim Images: Deanne Cheuk

Deanne Cheuk has built a career based on beautiful illustrative designs that have crossed most mediums imaginable: from print to product and everywhere in between. Beginning in Perth with her now infamous Neomu Publications and now renowned across the world for her hand-felt style, Deanne took some time out from preparing her upcoming show at Monster Children Gallery to talk to Sunday Ganim about her processes, the influence of New York and her recent love of all things chalk.

Sunday Ganim: Your hand seems to be present in a lot of your work, did you spend a lot of time drawing and painting when you were young?

Deanne Cheuk: Not really, Art was my favorite subject at school because it wasnt anything academic, but I never thought I was great at it. My childhood was alongside the Swan River in Perth so we were always outdoors.

SG: Were you always interested in graphics?

DC: I wasn’t even aware there was such a thing until we were choosing university subjects in Year 12 and my art teacher suggested it, I didn’t know what it was and she told it me it was like toothpaste packaging design and I remembered thinking that sounded like something cool to do.

SG: When you moved to New York to work on Tokion, you also worked with David Carson, how did that come about and how did working with him effect your work?

DC: I moved to New York because I loved it here but I didn’t have Tokion or any other work lined up at all. I started working with David Carson soon after I got here. The biggest effect that had on my work was giving me confidence in my own abilities. I had been working steadily already before I got to NY but I had no idea if I was making anything good as nothing had really gotten any attention until after I moved to NY.

SG: Your work is incredibly layered and detailed, do you start with a preconceived idea of how things will turn out, or do you just feel your way along the process?

DC: I feel my way along for sure, I never know what the final illustration will look like, I just keep playing around and having fun with it until I am satisfied. I always believe it will turn into something and that it will work out!

SG: You also incorporate a lot of different methods or styles; water-colours, painting, computer generated graphics and collage do you have a favorite material to work with at the moment?

DC: At the moment my favorite material is charcoal because it’s so messy and unpredictable but also very workable at the same time.

SG: Your body of work expands from graphics, fashion and illustration to art. Does your art and graphic design work exist in separate places in your head – are just different forms of your creative process, or do you see them as separate things entirely?

DC: I do see my art and graphics as separate things but I am also aware that one inevitably influences the other and that my graphic work makes my time spent on my artwork possible. The graphics work I do is purely to support myself, it’s a job, the art I work on is for pleasure and it’s a creative outlet for me. I call myself a Transitionist and believe I am part of a movement of working graphic designers who are also working artists.

SG: What excites you most about making art?

DC: Creating something from nothing.

SG: Living in New York are you constantly inspired by the city, or where do you get your inspiration from?

DC: Definitely inspired by the city, by the people, friends, happenings here, I wouldnt want to be anywhere else.

SG: What is the average day like for you these days?

DC: I am up by 6.45am, I only check my emails in the morning at that time. I am in my office and working by 9am until 6pm on graphics projects. From 9pm onwards I work on unpaid projects and artwork and then I do it all again the next day.

SG: I remember years ago being shown a copy of your publication, Neomu at a friend’s house, then always looking forward to seeing the next publication. Are there plans for another Neomu sometime or a similar follow up project?

DC: I loved working on Neomu but it was a total labour of love, the proceeds all went to charities but I paid for the whole thing myself and it wasnt cheap to make. I published eight issues and have always wanted to make it to 10. I do believe I’ll do another couple of issues but I don’t know when that will happen.

SG: Or, what’s on the horizon for you?

DC: Sydney in a couple of weeks for a show at the Monster Children Gallery, and then back to New York for more work and to plan shows for next year.

Deanne Cheuk’s exhibition Mango Cherry Coco Rainbow opens at Monster Children on October 7 and runs until October 30.

Next story: Getting So High – High Highs

Lap Of Luxury

tristan — Fri, 01 Oct 2010 00:03:40 +0000

Text: Tristan Ceddia Images: Christopher Morris

Elke Kramer is somewhat a poster woman for young designers in Australia. Since 2004 she’s produced an aspirational line in her name that has reinvented the look of and feel of new jewellery in Australia. With a strong aesthetic flowing from her personal style, Elke’s latest range Shake Of Ophelia sees new shapes, coloured resins and tassels that give off a feeling of bohemian decadence like only she could. Tristan Ceddia talks to the lady herself while she’s in the midst of launching her latest collection.

Tristan Ceddia: Where does your story start as a jewellery designer?

Elke Kramer: It’s not a very exciting one really. I was asked by a friend of mine who had her own label at the time to design a collection to accompany her range. Stores saw the range and wanted to place orders, so suddenly and unexpectedly I had started a small business and had to produce the range locally and fill the orders….

TC: The tale complementing your latest collection Shake Of Ophelia tells the story of a ‘young, beautiful and eccentric girl, born into a life of luxury and privilege at the turn of the 19th century’. Did you begin this collection with this girl in mind or did her story become apparent during the design process?

EK: The story definitely developed during the design process. The specifics of the character became stronger over time, and creating a character was definitely a way for me to start visualising the whole look of the collection. I don’t ever have the over all concept exactly in my mind when I begin designing, it definitely develops, and I find by the time I get the samples back I am able to put the story or concept into clear words.

TC: Do you create a story to go with each collection?

EK: There is always some kind of story that needs to be explained , mostly for press purposes. It’s not always character driven though. I think this is the first time I have really based a collection around a certain kind of woman. I feel I have to have some sort of story or context around the work though, It helps people to form an understanding of the ideas behind the collection.

TC: While distinctly yours, to me this range is a step away from the shapes of your last few collections. Do you find yourself moving in the similar tangents for a few seasons before reinvention?

EK: Definitely. I was ready for something new and I think my customers were feeling this too.
I didn’t sit down and plan a reinvention, thats for sure, but I was feeling personally bored with the shapes of past collections, so when I began designing, I was looking to work with shapes and styles that I hadn’t worked with before.

In terms of moving in similar tangents, I find that each winter collection it is a often a progression of the previous summer collection, which only feels natural to do. It is tricky and expensive to develop new moulds every season, so it is cost and time effective to give old styles new life by working with new colours and finishes for winter collections.

TC: If one collection you have birthed could define you as a designer which would it be?

EK: I think personally it would be my first one Exaltation of Skylarks, not because it was literally the birth of my jewellery label, but it felt like it was the beginning of creating the graphic forms which I still design with today. perhaps others would think it was my Tromp’e l’oeil collection that defines me, it was the biggest and most elaborate of my collections to date.

TC: You push your the materials you work with for each new collection you design. In a previous collection Look Twice you had resin objects with small pieces of copper cast in them. Do you spend a lot if time experimenting with materials?

EK: I wish I spent a lot more time on it, but I have to be honest it is hard to constantly source new materials and have my makers feel confident working with them before releasing them as samples. New materials need to be played with and explored before I feel confident they will not break and cause problems with production.

There are always styles that I design that don’t make it into a collection because there hasn’t been enough time to develop them, which is sad, but we try to keep working on them and add them in to a later collections.

TC: What’s draws you to resin? You seem to be constantly finding new uses for this material…

EK: I was initially drawn to the way resin can replicate other materials. With resin I can achieve the types of finishes and textures that I ideally want to use for my jewellery.

When I first started working with my makers,we worked together on experimenting with resin finishes, they had never used resin before, so it was a new and exciting development for them, and they have become so good at working with it that I have very few limitations with designing with resin now. I could safely say my jewellery label would not be the same without it.

TC: What is the most treasured piece of jewellery that you own?

EK: A ring from my grandmother – sounds very cliched, but it holds the most meaning for me of any piece I own.

TC: You have begun to complemented your collections with bags, scarves and other adornments. Do you have plans to create more items in this vein?

EK: I would love to keep branching out and creating other accessories to include with my jewellery. it does become hard to get the support from stores when you try and branch out into making other accessories though, as people end up buying from you for specific reasons. So its more a love job making other items to include as you never really get the sales support. But that’s ok, I think it also helps to enhance the story of each collection, it also allows me to broaden my designing, which keeps me inspired and interested in the process.

TC: Your brother runs infamous Los Angeles bookstore Family. Does creativity run deep in your family?

EK: My parents have always been very encouraging and supportive of what we wanted to do. My family all do different things, David who runs Family is literary and musically focused, while my other brother Benji is academic, studying to be a lawyer. I have inherited some of my mothers creativity, so I guess it runs in the genes to some level, she is a very talented painter and has the most amazing eye for colour.

TC: What can one expect to see next from Elke Kramer?

EK: Hmm, I’m moving into a new studio as we speak, so hopefully you’ll see a reflection of a happier and more organised me in my collections… (laughs).

Elke Kramer

Next story: Two’s Company – Ms&Mr

Ocean Of Ink

tristan — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 00:01:01 +0000

Text: Oliver Georgiou Images: Inkship Books

In August this year Melbourne based tattoo artists Danny Young (Tattoo Magic) and Jane Laver (Chapel Tattoo) released a biographical book documenting the life and work of John Entwistle, a Melbourne tattooer since the early 1960s. Reading the book feels like opening a pirate’s treasure chest or a message in a bottle type time capsule, filled with amzing visual relics from the past, along with some great stories. Oliver Georgiou sat down with Danny Young in his backyard with a can of Melbourne Bitter to have a chat about how it all happened.

Oliver Georgiou: Is Inkship Books something you thought of to make this book or was it established as part of a bigger motive?

Danny Young: Just out of necessity we had to come up with a name, we didn’t have to but we needed to put a publishing name to it. There were pretty much two options, we were either going to lay it out ourselves and then present it to someone for publishing, but we couldn’t really find anyone suitable. I thought it would be an easy thing, I thought someone would definitely be up for putting it out because the book would be all done for them, not that we looked too hard or knew where to look, but then we thought we would just do it ourselves and then get someone to distribute it and we ended up just doing the whole thing – so then we had to think of a name. We went through a few names and everything was taken. I already had Inkship for my personal website referring to something like an apprenticeship or something-ship. I asked Jane and she didn’t mind so we went with Inkship books and made the logo. We didn’t plan to make a publishing company, it was just for that project. We already have other people asking what else is Inkship going to publish.

OG: I’m personally wondering that.

DY: Maybe, if I’ve got time and a good idea pops up I will do it for sure, yeah.

OG: So if it wasn’t the idea to make this publishing company, or the idea to make books, it was the idea to make this particular book.

DY: I bought my first machine off John, he’s been around selling tattoo supplies and tattooing for a long time, Me and Jane have just been going to him for years to buy stuff and getting tattooed by him, so you know he is one of the last dudes doing that sort of thing. There were other people doing it but he is the last one that you can actually get in contact with or that we know and he is super nice and still sticks to his style and his five colours. So just through getting tattooed and buying stuff off him he always had a few stories and we were always asking him what shops were around or who was tattooing or how did you start and we both sort of ended up a different times thinking it would be good to document it before he is gone, not that we wanted him gone in that way, but nowadays with LA Ink and the Internet and everything it’s all pretty easy and rock starry. Back then there wasn’t all that that sort of stuff so hearing him saying there weren’t appointments and how he was busy all the time or that people came in and picked his flashes it was really interesting and we just thought we better start documenting it before people don’t realise that it existed in Melbourne. There is stuff overseas like Sailor Jerry or people in Europe where it’s all been done but nobody had done it in Australia.

OG: Yeah I thought it was interesting how in an interview in the book he talks a lot about just spontaneously going and getting a tattoo of whatever was on offer and how it doesn’t exist so much these days.

DY: Yeah for sure, not long ago people came in with a heap of notes but now people come in with their laptops show you about thirty ideas and wanna cram it into a tattoo the size of a tennis ball or something. Before it was more like if you were going to get a tattoo you pick something off the wall or the tattooists would say “nah you’ve gotta get this one”. A lot of older people I have spoken to got something that they didn’t ask for, there were no niceties like there is now.

OG: From what you have found out what was the scene like when John started tattooing nearly 50 years ago?

DY: There were about a half a dozen tattooists in Melbourne, a couple in the city, one out in Williamstown and another couple out in the suburbs but only half a dozen shops, there might have been a few back-yarders and stuff but yeah…

OG: Tattoos themselves have been around for a long, long time. I can imagine people in Australia having them prior to that.

DY: Yeah, there is a little bit of history, we have been trying to find out about that too and maybe that is something that we will do because Jane has been looking into it, John knows a lot and we have found a little bit. In Bourke Street what is the Commonwealth Bank now used to be the Southern Cross Building and before that it was the Eastern Markets; there is a little bit of info on a tattooist that was in the markets there in the early 1900s. John was pretty young in the ’60s so we don’t really know too much about before then. Hopefully doing the book it brings other people out with shoeboxes of photos or other info from their granddads.

OG: Does his stance of the whole meaning of tattooing change the way you and Jane approach tattooing yourselves?

DY: There are a lot of reasons why people do or don’t do things but yeah, I think people like Jane and me are sort of more of his view. I am old enough to have grown up when dudes went and got a tattoo on their forearm or whatever, just Bon Scott era and all that sort of stuff. It was just a thing dudes did if you were into rock ‘n’ roll or if you were a bit tough or wanted to be tough or whatever, it wasn’t just a pretty thing at all, or a gallery sort of thing at all. It’s cool that people don’t have to have a big story on Miami Ink about their tattoos “oh, it’s because of this and that”, it’s more like “that looks cool, I wanna get it, I’ll buy that.” Like with a lot of things spontaneity is a big thing so I think what he did was, he was just a worker who did tattoos, when we asked him to do the book he was was just like “ah, OK.” Not that he didn’t want to, he’s just not from that gallery or promotion sort of era. He did tattoos for people who wanted to get tattoos, he got tattooed a lot. Now it’s a bit more an arty thing, people come from art school and want to tattoo and haven’t even got tattoos, John was covered by the time he was 19 and decided that was what he was going to do and just got into it. I suppose we sort of think along the same lines, that’s why we wanted to do the book.

OG: These days there seems to be a lot less stigma surrounding tattoos, what would it have been like getting around with tattoos in past in Melbourne?

DY: I know a lot of people like friend’s dads that don’t want to talk about them or don’t like showing their tattoos because of that stigma. But you can pick whether a person is good or bad regardless of if they have tattoos or not. More often than not though a lot of those older guys you see with tattoos have probably led a different life to what we see, maybe they got in fights lots, maybe they drank a lot or maybe they were in the army.

OG: As a kid I distinctly remember a home made tattoo that my dad had on his hand of an anchor that he had done when he was real young, but he had a diving accident and his thumb got ripped off and the tattoo went with it, I think he was happy to see it go.

DY: A lot of kids now are covered because they are in bands but I reckon a massive percentage of those kids are gonna get to their late twenties and go “fuck what have I done?” Would have been the same for guys from the ’60s or ’70s, they would have got swept up in AC/DC or in their young gangs or whatever was happening and not realising the permanency. You think you know what you were doing when you are 18 but it takes a bit longer to really work it out.

OG I feel that Melbourne being so geographically isolated has given us the opportunity to really cultivate differently over time, whether it is in music or visual arts. Was it the same for tattooing?

DY: I think so, from a tattooists point of view you can sort of pick peoples styles and I think Melbourne had like a real sharp pointy sort of style, as much as they were using the same colours and imagery, John was influenced off local guys and Melbourne sort of had a different look, so yeah I think for sure Australia had its own sort of take on that traditional thing.

OG: You have been travelling a fair bit, being a tattooist full time did you pick up on some differences as you were looking around?

DY: When I was in America the time before our recent trip I booked tattoos ahead and got one in each city I went to, which was five cities. That was a couple of years ago when we went to play I got one in New York, one in Washington, one in Texas, this time around I didn’t book anything. I thought I would get some walk ins and when I got there we went swimming at a few places like rivers and stuff and it was just like, god there are so many shit tattoos and then, I thought, I have friends at home that I would rather tattoo me that I like and wasn’t in a rush to get them done. But there are a lot of good tattooists in America. It’s the same as if you go to the Big Day Out or the beach here you see a lot of bad tattoos.

OG: It’s cool to be able to read a bit of history on peoples skin whether it be an old foot logo or…

DY: …or the Red Hot Chili Peppers in the late ’80s, that era has got a lot to answer for. When we were in the ’80s my friends when they were 15 or 16 got the eagle, got the snake and stuff then when it got to the ’90s people started doing this real tech bio stuff, didn’t like their eagles and got them covered up and now wish they had have kept them.

OG: I recently was speaking to a mutual friend of ours that you tattoo and he mentioned that he wanted to get a tattoo of a dolphin having sex with a unicorn on his arse.

DY: He hasn’t asked me about that one, maybe he knows not to. I might give him a gift certificate for his birthday.

OG: To catalogue and document other peoples work is in a way a very noble thing to do. To find something that you have seen and that you have enjoyed and then to spread that is in a way contributing to history.

DY: It’s definitely not a monetary thing or a claim to fame thing. I’ve gone over it in my head with lots of other things, like why am I doing this or why do we do these kind of things, it’s more because when I was growing up I was stoked on certain bands or stoked on certain people’s artwork or something, so that gets me keen and allowed me to do the things that I have done. I might speak to a kid who is like “oh I saw that and it made me want to do this…” If you can inspire people do things that they want to do, that’s a good thing and the feeling that maybe if I wasn’t going to do it might to get done sort of thing. Marty Bell gave me a book called Top Fellas and I probably wouldn’t have found it, it was a book on the Sharpies around the ’60s, ’70s and ’80s in Melbourne, just a little book by some guy who wrote down all these tales, interviewed some people and put some photos in, and I thought ‘oh sick I sort of grew up with that and it’s awesome that some guy has gone and done this’. It touched on tattooing a little bit and that was one thing that made me think ‘oh you know no one has done this about Melbourne tattooing’. John has got good things to say, I know there are people like me that like John’s stuff or this way of tattooing, not saying it’s the right way or for everyone. And when John goes I didn’t know if there would be anyone else who would follow it up so I thought, ‘oh shit we should show people this because he had so many of his old drawings and info’. So it was just a cool thing to do… I think so, yeah.

John Entwistle – Tattooist – Melbourne, Australia is available online at Inkship Books and from:

Tattoo Magic, 100 Gertrude St, Fitzroy
Chapel Tattoo, 155 Chapel St, Prahran
Johnny Dollar Tattoo Supplies, 207 Punt Rd, Richmond
Artisan Books, 159 Getrude St, Fitzroy

Next story: Off The Chain – Rob McLeish

Afternoon TV

tristan — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 00:00:52 +0000

Text: Tristan Ceddia Images: Chris Hopkins

Chris Hopkins is a bit of an enigma. He is originally from Sydney, is now located somewhere in Japan and only recently got a (very minimal) website upon realisation that he was being mistaken for another artist. Nonetheless, he makes wonderful graphic illustrations. Determined to find out more, Tristan Ceddia tracked him down for a little back and forth banter.

Tristan Ceddia: Where did you grow up and how did you begin your career as an illustrator?

Chris Hopkins: I grew up a few hours south of Sydney and for as long as I can remember, I’ve always liked drawing. I’ve never really worked solely as an illustrator but rather got my start at 19 working as an animator which progressed to becoming an art director, the whole time working for ad agencies (which had it’s pros and cons). Whenever possible I would draw as part of my job and for some reason I also started taking on illustration jobs outside of full-time work, for fun and to pass time more than anything. In 2005 I decided to leave my job to just concentrate on freelance work which I’d say is a 50/50 split between illustrative work and art direction. Both of which I enjoy… And God knows what I like to draw isn’t suitable for everything.

TC: So what do you like to draw?

CH: Things I like… Loose shapes, flowers, Steve Martin, that type of thing. I like things that to me are also kind of funny or a bit ridiculous without being ironic or hip or contrived and mostly not boring, at least I hope. The composition side of drawing is also interesting to me and something I really enjoy.

TC: What made you decide to live in Japan?

CH: As a city and a place to live I’ve always loved Sydney. At the time however, for better or worse, I was just not at all into in what was taking place creatively. Japan on the other hand was one of few places I had experience in travelling to and just a place where I felt comfortable, so that was that.

TC: Has this move had a big influence on your subject matter and style?

CH: I wouldn’t say living here has changed the style of my drawing beyond its natural progression, although certainly it has influenced subject matter. It’s hard not to I think. Even just day-to-day stuff becomes referential on some level. I also like a lot of Japanese artists and artwork so there’s that influence too. It’s a fine line though. I mean, I’m very conscious of not taking everything in that direction or over-doing it.

TC: Do you work in the creative industry in Japan?

CH: I don’t really think about things in those terms but I suppose so? I’m not sure. A few years ago it was certainly more the case with the majority of work being for Japanese clients. These days it’s more geographically spread. I don’t actively promote my own work or try to solicit new clients despite working solely as a freelance artist. (I only recently put a small website of work online after learning a different artist of my name was being mistaken for me). It’s always been a matter of seeing what comes my way as opposed to trying to push things in any particular direction, Japanese or otherwise.

TC: I assume working with Japanese clients would involve speaking at least a little bit of Japanese. Do you ever find yourself (pardon the pun) lost in translation?

CH: I understand a little but really I’ve been lucky. Most clients have been able to speak English so in that regard, it’s all somehow worked out.

TC: Your work mixes modern themes with a classic Push Pin era style illustration. What draws you towards this more classical style of drawing?

CH: I don’t know how classic it is but thanks. I’ve always just felt I can only really draw one way and that’s kind of cartoon-like. I’m honestly terrible at doing anything realistic so I just try to focus on what comes most naturally.

Taste wise and amongst many other things, I do particularly like a lot of the art deco revival graphics that were being created from the mid eighties into the early nineties. From Push Pin right through to artists like Thomas McKnight into what could be regarded as hotel lobby art. Along these lines a friend recently told me that my drawings often remind him of Ken Done (I really liked this). I think more than anything a whole lot of stuff (artists, interests and otherwise) just get muddled-up in my head and what remains is probably something that shares the feeling and sensibilities of that period without looking quite like it. To me it comes down to loose pattern or composition driven illustration that has some kind of warmth or energy to it. I also place an importance on seeing drawings through from pencil sketches to finished art, something I feel can be overlooked these days.

TC: Do you find yourself drawing often? Is it something that you are doing every day?

CH: Not every day unfortunately, but most days. It’s the colouring or finishing of illustrations on the computer or the more design orientated jobs that mostly seem to get in the way of actual drawing. It’s okay though.

TC: Can you describe the thought behind the cover image you illustrated for us?

CH: As is sometimes the case, I started out with one idea but mid-way it turned into something else. I was originally thinking about that old Pepsi logo and wanting to pair the red and blue of the logo with the red and blue of a school uniform. Anyways, it slightly changed but that was the original thought.

TC: If you had to look at one image for the rest of your life, what would it be?

CH: In the name of brownie points, my girlfriend’s sweet face.

Afternoon TV

Next story: Beyond Thunderdome – Georgie Thomas

This Is Happening

tristan — Sun, 01 Aug 2010 03:37:40 +0000

Text: Alice Cavanagh Images: BUREAU™

Michael Vandino makes his bed every morning. I know this because I called him on it after watching him hang his Sydney exhibition, That’s Cool But Can You Make It More Sh*t. Despite the haphazard, lo-fi aesthetic of his work, Vandino was meticulous in his approach to the presentation, carefully piecing together the hundred-plus pieces of paraphernalia, he had selected from the archives of his work for LCD Soundsystem and DFA Records. As well as admitting he was an “organised creative” (a rare breed), Vandino took time out to give me the low down on his company BUREAU™, and his work with one of the hottest record labels on the planet.

Alice Cavanagh: Was there a moment or point in your life when you realised you wanted to be an artist?

Michael Vandino: When I figured out I was incapable of making follow up calls and filling in spreadsheets.

AC: How much influence has living in New York had on your work?

MV: Well, I moved to Seattle right after (I decided I was through with) school. Nothing happened (for me) in that city. Moving to New York at once kicked me in the ass and showed me how not impossible it is to make something happen if want it.

AC: Tell us about BUREAU™, how did it start?

MV: BUREAU™ started late in 2008. Tommy (Tommy Everett is the other half of BUREAU™) and I met a few years back through a friend in New York. I’m pretty sure everything in New York starts ‘through a friend’. I was freelancing as a creative director at a small agency and he was running a small (some would say ’boutique studio’ here but those words make me feel bad inside so let’s stick with small) design studio with a focus on 3D design (primary and secondary packaging for fragrance mostly).

At the time I was a little frustrated with print advertising, specifically fashion advertising. I think people can only do that type of work for so long. It’s disposable. A lot of work with little gratification. I would work really hard on a campaign and in six months (actually more like three months) it was dead and then I would start working on the next season. You can imagine after seven plus years this could get to be a drag. During all of this I was designing for DFA on the side. The DFA work kept me sane. It could live for more than a few months and it was an ongoing, evolving project.

AC: How did your work with LCD and DFA come about?

MV: Right place, right time, crappy computer, mutual OCD.

AC: What work have you done outside of LCD Soundsystem?

MV: Tim Hamilton, Mandy Coon. Just finished a little job for BUTT Magazine. Love those guys. The Juan Maclean. Holy Ghost. Would love to work with Planningtorock.

AC: Can you describe your creative process?

MV: Procrastinate, procrastinate, procrastinate, panic, make something.

AC: How do you approach your work?

MV: From behind. Cuddle up. Say hi.

AC: Where do you look for inspiration?

MV: It depends on the project. If it’s a fragrance bottle we’ll look at vintage furniture, vintage jewelry. Fine art is usually a decent place to start. Fine art takes you very quickly out of a commercial mindset. Art doesn’t have to answer to anything so it’s free to get weird. We like weird. We like things to be a little off. I was once told anything too tasteful is just tacky. I couldn’t agree more.

AC: When are you most inspired?

MV: Just before I go to sleep.

AC: The lightening bolt was a winning ticket – it’s really quite iconic. Was that something that was spur of the moment, or was there a specific inspiration behind that?

MV: I could never draw something that dumb. You’ll have to ask Murphy about that. Honestly, I wish I could say I dreamt that up. I saw it, liked it, I exploited it. Part of being a designer is picking out things that look good (sometimes bad). It’s like shopping.

AC: What are some of your favorite works to date? For LCD?

MV: Hmmmm… if I had to pick something to stare at for a month it would probably be the covers for Drunk Girls. Nancy’s totally cute and Gavin, what an amazing looking guy. Good faces. I’m not mad at This is Happening; I can Change; All My Friends; Someone Great; Tribulations; Party #3, Party #2.

AC: Tell us a little about this retrospective.

MV: Here are all the bits that have informed the look of DFA. Judge accordingly.

AC: How did you come up with the title?

MV: Often times no matter how shit I try to make it (DFA art) Murphy wants it more shit. And I don’t use the work “shit” to be cheeky. Shit is the most synoptic word to describe what we’re going for.

AC: It must have been an interesting process rediscovering old work and sorting through so much creative, was it nostalgic or do you feel you have moved on from those moments?

MV: A little nostalgic, a little reaffirming, a little embarrassing.

AC: What has been a highlight for you since working with the band?

MV: Overall… getting to work with my friends. Who doesn’t want that? I love them; they are my sisters. Anecdotally: designing the Bye Bye Bayou cover at The Manshun in L.A. Really James, you rented a mansion in L.A.? Bummer.

AC: What does the future hold for Michael Vandino?

MV: I wish I could say vacation but that would be a lie. Long term? Who knows? This business (design) is unpredictable at best. Maybe BUREAU™ Sydney? This place kinda rules!

That’s Cool But Can You Make It More Sh*t is showing now at Sydney’s Tom Dunne Gallery

BUREAU™

Next story: The Lens Of My Brain – Chris Johanson

Just An Illusion

tristan — Sun, 01 Aug 2010 02:57:26 +0000

Text: Sunday Ganim Images: Dick Van Straalen

Known by some as the Flying Dutchman, Dick Van Straalen has been hand crafting innovative surfboards in Australia for over 50 years. A free thinker who has seen every development in surfboard production since the plywood planks of the late 1950s Dick has shaped his way into surf history. Never one to rest on his laurels, Dick Van Straalen’s constant quest for experimentation has recently lead him to producing carbon fibre surfboards in the depths of the Utah Desert. Sunday Ganim had a chat with the classic waterman about all things past and present.

Sunday Ganim: Where did you grown up and What got you into shaping boards?

Dick Van Straalen: My family came over from Holland in 1951 and lived at Avalon beach in Sydney, which was where modern day surfing started. In 1956 the American surf-life saving team came out for the ‘56 Melbourne Olympics. They did demonstrations at Avalon beach in Sydney and it sort of kicked off from there. My mum’s boyfriend at the time was a fibreglass engineer and he was trying to make surfboards, so that started me off. I lived near the beach and went swimming and surfing everyday.

Also, I come from a family where my father was a corde en bleu chef and my mother was a couture dress maker so we come from a family where we know how to use our hands.

SG: What was the first board that you shaped and how did it all progress from there?

DVS: In the early days, because everything was in its growth, we cut down boards and also reshaped a lot of boards. At Avalon they had a big underground thing happening, all the kids were making their own boards in their backyards in the ’60s, then when I left school I worked for Bill Wallace and for Dale Surfboards. Then all of a sudden I got married! I couldn’t make enough money out of making surfboards, so I got a job with Qantas as a flight steward.

SG: Really?

DVS: Yeah but my first nine months was flying to Hawaii and San Francisco, so I got to surf in Hawaii a lot and met a lot of people. Then I had a young family coming on I wanted to stay in Avalon more and as I was working for Qantas I had a lot of time off, so we bought a Combi Van and would drive up to Queensland every couple of months you know, going surfing. We were doing this so much that we decided to move out of Sydney and move up to Burleigh Heads and that’s when I started the surfboard business there. That’s where it all started.

SG: I have seen some photo’s of your life during this time it seems like you were living a fairly holistic lifestyle.

DVS: Yeah it sort of was, I am a really family orientated person. The reason that I made surfboards was because we were living in a commune sort of group and because I was the only one that had a family I had to provide the work and the opportunities for everyone to make surfboards, to put food on the table for my family.

SG: Your boards seem to be reminiscent of another era unlike most white thrusters you see today, what got you into using different coloured resins? Was that happening when you first started shaping?

DVS: Sort of, the clear, white surfboards of today are due to economics. For a lot of people the craft has gone out of surfboards, they are only interested in making the dollar and they don’t really care about the craft anymore. Whereas there are still a lot of guys my age who like the craft – the thing of making something with your hands.

That’s what’s being called the retro thing – but it’s not really retro because retro means regression, but were not regressing, were actually going forward – whatever we make today is modern.

SG: So what kinds of things influence you these days?

DVS: All my inspirations for surfboards come from nature, the ocean, wind, how rocks are formed by the wind and waves and things like that. You know I am really interested in the arts and music but it’s just something that fills your life, it’s a colour that’s in your life. But I walk along the beach every day looking at waves and sand formations and there’s a curve out there that’s very commom in everything, it’s called a slalom curve – the curve of acceleration and de-acceleration. You look at headlands and they are all sort of curved, the curve of the wave is doing the same thing, which is the common curve of nature in general. Because what you have gotta do is match the curve that you are surfing through on a wave.

SG: So do you put that curve into your fins?

DVS: Oh I try to, (laughs) it’d be good to think that I actually can, you know…

SG: I know that you also paint and experiment a lot with the designs on your boards – does that start with a pre-conceived idea or is your method more spontaneous, appearing as you’re doing it?

DVS: If I am thinking about something maybe, some things may process in my mind for about a year, you know you’re working on it and trying to formulate the mental, internal picture of what you want to do. I look at shaping a bit like sculpture, you have to work out how to relate that picture to the piece of foam – how you’re going to attack it to get that picture that you’ve got in your mind out. As you’re doing it you see the thing forming and somewhere the mental picture and the physical picture join together – I don’t know when that happens exactly, but you stand back and have a look and think – ‘that’s far out’.

SG: I know you have made surfboards using all types of different materials; balsa woods, foam, carbon fibre…

DVS: I have been making balsa boards forever, it’s one of the oldest materials used and it’s a really interesting material and the reason that were using so much carbon is because it’s one of the most unbelievable materials in the modern world, everywhere you go you see someone using carbon in something.

SG: Can you tell us more about these carbon boards, how did they come about?

DVS: I shared a factory with a good friend who was a boat builder, he was into composites and he used to take me to seminars about materials, resins and things like that and one day we went to a seminar about carbons. So we started using carbon in our boards and we found that they just went unbelievable, just so good.

But like anything, There is an up side and a down side to everything, these boards – you gotta look after them more and they are black but they surf really well and they don’t lose their life – I have had one for 10 years and it is the same today as it was 10 years ago.

SG: So how are they made exactly?

DVS: We make two sorts, ones in Australia are made like a regular foam board and then coated with a layer of carbon fabric. We also make them in the Utah desert, in the USA. They take a mould from a blank that I’ve shaped and then auto-clave it – the opposite to vacuum sealing, they put a plastic bag inside the mould lined with carbon fibre and blow air inside it so it forces all the material to shape to the mould and then put it in the oven and bake it.

SG: So the board is essentially hollow, filled with air?

DVS: Yeah, there’s no foam inside them and because of that there is no waste – the biggest pollution factor of the surfboard industry is the waste, when you’re making a surfboard one third of the materials used end up in the bin – that’s a big percentage.

SG: Can you break them?

DVS: Oh you can, but everything will break! The ocean breaks ocean liners in half, let alone surfboards. What happens to a surfboard is if it gets under too much stress, sooner or later it will explode, like people – they freak out if they are under too much stress.

SG: When I met you, you mentioned that you were making some paddleboards for an aboriginal surf life saving club up in the Northern Territory…

DVS: Yep, Dave Rastovich is going up at the end of this month to give them coaching. It’s a long story how that all started, when I first started shaping and people were going over to Molokai, Hawaii and naming their paddle boards with Hawaiian names. I hated that and thought that we should be using an Australian indigenous name, so I wrote to an aboriginal friend of mine who got a name, a tokem called ‘woduku’ which means, vehicle to travel to the dreamtime – and a few other things. Then when I heard Stewart, the guitarist from Yothu Yindi was trying to start a surfboard club for the kids, I donated five paddleboards.

SG: You have been going strong shaping for a while, any plans to stop?

DVS: No, I still enjoy the process of making it, giving it to someone and them coming back and letting me know that the board is really good. It’s a rare occupation that you can make something for people to get enjoyment.

I just like making things that go in the water I guess, I like dealing with professional athletes because they are so enthusiastic about everything and I like the general public cause I don’t tell them lies, I just tell them how it is.

Right now I am just having fun, I am slowing down cause I am at a stage where sooner or later my arms are going to drop off, so I just keep going, it keeps me off the street. How’s your board going?

SG: It’s so fast!

DVS: Like I say to most people, it’s just an illusion that you are going fast, you know, did you catch up to the wave in front of ya?

Dick Van Straalen

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Pick Me Up

gabe — Wed, 30 Jun 2010 14:42:40 +0000

Words & Images: Craig Redman & Karl Maier

In many ways Rinzen epitomises the digital age that we live in, they’re breaking new ground all the time, and with the design collectives five members each ensconced at separate corners of the globe their reliance on modern communication is as pronounced as it gets. Which is interesting because their work is characterised by depth and meaning, and not just an undeniable aesthetic appeal – traits that are often overlooked as everyone clambers aboard the information superhighway. Rinzen members Craig Redman and Karl Maier converse about their creative development, meaning versus perception and double entendres.

Craig Redman: Karl! All good today?

Karl Maier: Oh, hello Craig. All good indeed.

CR: Take a deep breath and give us a quick breakdown on how we met and how Rinzen came to be?

KM: Alright. Well you and I met all the way back at art college. From pretty early on we were working together pretty closely on projects and quite naturally just continued to do so once we finished studying. Meanwhile, in order to actually earn a living, we were also working at a commercial design studio and that’s how we came to know Rilla, Adrian and Steve. Rinzen itself was born across many drunken evenings at the dawn of the millennium. We were all frustrated with our day jobs and for nothing more then a bit of fun we conceived RMX, which was basically a design remix project loosely based on the Surrealist’s ‘Exquisite Corpse‘ game that we went on to publish and exhibit. That was really the catalyst for us realising the potential of working collectively so we quit our respective jobs and here we are.

CR: That was 10 years ago now, it’s funny to see how our style has changed over that period of time. At University we explored more grunge style (admittedly it was a rather optimistic grunge), then it sort of moved into J-Pop and then to more complicated fantasy landscapes to eventually being completely simplified, which is where we are now. Do you think it’s because our work is trend related or it’s some strange natural progression?

KM: Very early on we really just absorbed everything. Which is only natural and a big part of the development process, really just trying out a bunch of stuff. Beyond that I feel that little by little we began to inject more of our own personalities and interests into what we were doing. When Rinzen began we started exploring illustration a lot more and a more narrative-driven approach emerged — the idea of creating these complete little worlds. Initially with Rinzen there was also a more collective style that we strove for, and whilst that remains true to a point, our individual styles have begun to emerge in recent years. Personally I still feel like thematically we deal with a lot of the same ideas we have in the past but the execution has altered and refined somewhat. I suppose it’s a bit like finding a better, more concise way of saying what you’d like to say. Doing more with less, that’s where I think we’re at right now.

CR: What’s next then? A blank sheet of paper?

KM: Yeah right, you know that’s pretty much the last thing you should expect. Invisible ink on the other hand…

CR: Ha. We’ve been developing this more simplified approach over the last few years and it’s good to be able to see it all together for the exhibition at Monster Children. We’re accustomed to seeing each other’s work in our Inboxes rather than on a wall, since you were stuck with organising most of the screen printing (ie. translating the file into an actual object) how did you find that process?

KM: Well for one they’re much bigger. Which, for whatever reason, always manages to surprise me. The process is very rewarding though, you’re right. More often than not we’re used to seeing things onscreen so the ability to interact physically in a space adds a whole new dimension. Pun intended.

CR: The way we email files to each other, it’s usually about once a week, is our way of updating each other on our lives and work now that we aren’t living in the same city. To me it’s totes inspiring (to steal the title of our show – a “pick me up”) to get such awesome work without warning. I think it’s because I’m no longer sitting at the desk next to you where we would see each other’s process and where the end result was inevitable. We’ve essentially worked together for 10 years, have you found the separation any different?

KM: Yeah, well obviously it’s a pretty big change after so long, though we were probably a lot like “Grumpy Old Men” by the end of it. I do think, and I imagine you agree, that with this distance our own personalities have emerged a lot more and ultimately I feel like we’re doing better work now — both individually and together — as a result. And with the added element of surprise, it’s definitely more fun trading these different pieces. It’s also become quite an important part of the way we work together and, on a more personal level, relate to one another. Over time it has come to resemble a conversation of sorts where imperceptibly one thing leads to another. I can’t recall us once ever actually discussing the work until we set about devising this exhibition and really looked at it all together, so it’s not a call and response kind of conversation, something more like trading quips I think. There’s perhaps a sensibility to it rather than a theme per se.

CR: Though most of the pieces in the show are relatively simple in execution there is always some hidden reference, even the title of the show has a double meaning – why make the viewer work?

KM: I don’t think the viewer has to work too hard. It’s intended to be very inclusive. There is a directness to the work, so it can be read and understood in an instant, but then there is also often a punchline of sorts that follows. Wherein a duality of meaning or understanding is apparent. Hopefully the works on show will delight rather than confound though. I’d ideally like to see people smiling when it opens.

CR: And the show is going to go to Melbourne too, right?

KM: Yep, that’s the plan. We’re trying to organise that now so stay tuned.

CR: I saw Rilla and Steve (two out of the five Rinzens) in Paris recently, it was cool to see them again, it’s been a few years. Have you seen Adrian (the final piece of the Rinzen puzzle) recently?

KM: Yeah we’re all so accustomed to speaking to each other via email that seeing a Rinzen in the flesh is a pleasant change. Adrian’s finishing up an amazing public art project in Brisbane, Rilla’s been working on her character Sozi and accompanying book, and Steve is putting together his album. It’s cool to see everyone working on these nice offshoots of Rinzen.

CR: Alright, I’ll let you get back to staring at Bondi Beach while I catch a feverishly hot train home and battle Subway rats.

KM: Always trying to rub it in eh…

CR: Any chance I get, bye!

Pick Me Up opens Thursday July 1 at 6pm and runs until July 16. Monster Children Gallery, 20 Burton St, Darlinghurst

Read our feature from issue two with Craig Redman who moonlights as Darcel Dissapoints.

Craig Redman & Karl Maier

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