Monogram-a-Week/Whenever: Patriotic Extra

By my reckoning, I owe you guys at least eight nine monograms. Regular releases will resume next week, so keep your eyes peeled!

Monogram-a-Week: 11

The eleventh installment in our ongoing, haphazardly updated series. The full initials should be "WJS," but I couldn't quite fit the "J" into it.

Monogram-a-Week: 10

Trying something new this week: Letters made out of holes punched in bristol board using nails. The board was then backlit and photographed. Not entirely happy with the results, though--might make a refined version next week.

Monogram-a-Week: 09

Pardon the interruption. We now return to our regularly scheduled programming.

Monogram-a-Week: 07 & 08

 

... we now return to our regularly scheduled publishing schedule with two monograms--a handwritten "ER" and lettered "NN."

Monogram-a-Week: 06

This week's entry: A handwritten and hand-lettered "JK."

Environmental U-Turn

A quick, very straightforward illustrated save-the-date postcard for Healthy Water Solutions, an affiliate of the Illinois chapter of the Sierra Club. The corresponding event focuses on the use of hydro-separation and other engineering initiatives to reverse the environmental degradation of the Chicago River and reinvigorate an economically moribund sector of the city. The basic illustration and layout was in turn adapted onto a mail piece and signs.

Monogram-a-Week: 02

 

This week's entry: E.H. Couldn't quite decide between the two.

Monogram-a-Week: 01

Starting today, I'll be making a monogram a week for an entire year (or longer, who knows). It'll mostly be a chance for me to play around with letterforms, but if you'd like to commission a monogram, then feel free to shoot me an email at tsquared1017@gmail.com. If I make a monogram based featuring the letters in your name and you'd like to use it for personal or commercial purposes, then please contact me to discuss pertinent licensing fees and terms.

First up: M.S.

...Now in Wallpaper Form!

Remember that poster from yesterday? It's now available as a wallpaper! Download to your heart's content.

(Click on the thumbnails for full-resolution images.)

From top to bottom:

1024 x 768

1280 x 800

1440 x 900

1920 x 1080

You are Going to ______ Today

Illustrator CS5; set in Bodoni; paper size: 0.7 m x 1.0 m

Something quick 'n' dirty. Set on a 5 x 5 grid rotated fifteen degrees.

Jet Travel in the Age of Saarinen

India ink and graphite on newsprint;
compositing, layout and post-processing in Illustrator and Photoshop;
full/actual paper size: A0 (~0.8m x 1.1m)

Today's nostalgia for a more...civilized era of air travel is easy to understand. Who, after all, can resist the thought of sleek Eero Saarinen terminals, equally streamlined airplanes, and crisply attired captains and stewardesses (not to mention other amenities like free in-flight meals) in an age when air travel has been debased to the level of a mostly thankless, pedestrian, and at times intrusive ordeal? Sure, airfare was more expensive before the fragmentation and deregulation of the airline industry, but I think one could be forgiven for romanticizing a more tasteful albeit expensive bygone.

On a related note, I'd like to take a moment to address what Steven Heller, whom Gawker termed "some expert" (fat lot they know about design!), wrote for Print Mag's blog, where he pointed out some cursory similarities between the claustrophobic layouts of modern jetliners and slave ships. Now, before you sentimental lefty PC-types reach for your pitchforks, allow me to say that Mr. Heller probably intended the post to be more lighthearted (it's an idle musing, after all, and not a twenty-page term paper) than as perceived.

But is there some kernel of truth behind his casual observation? I wouldn't call air travel degrading (though like I said before it's a far cry from what it used to be), but the notion of maximizing carrying capacity and spacial economy in both instances necessarily comes at the passenger's expense. That is, in both instances a similar (though hardly identical) comprehension of the passenger as cargo obtains.

The principal difference here is a function of motivation--by which I mean contempt for the persons transported. Rationally-minded airline planners might not be disposed to view their customers as people (that's the job of the marketing & PR department), but that said they also don't think of them as subhuman beasts. Whatever indignities airlines inflict on their passengers is only ancillary, whereas the depredations slaves-in-transit endured are the consequence of deliberate, calculated oppression, insult, and inhumanity.

The other big difference is pretty obvious: Unlike slaves, airline passengers usually have ready recourse to other modes of transportation. With sufficient funds, they can purchase additional comfort, or, if the distance is not too far and time too urgent a consideration, travel at a more leisurely pace by car or train. Though protracted air travel does wear on the nerves, the longest intercontinental flight also comes nowhere near the duration of an eighteenth-century trans-Atlantic death voyage.

So what about the formal similarities? Well, formal similarities are by definition superficial, and here I think the resemblance is not entirely unwarranted. Apart from diverging choice of icons, I will admit that the two diagrams look alike. But design's significance is, as Mr. Heller knows, informed by context, so the only crime he committed was making a bad airline joke.

Ex Lib.

Above: Menus (front cover and sample inside page)

Business card (obverse & reverse)

Note: You are not at liberty to borrow any of this content for your own purposes or for a third party without my permission.

Full Disclosure: I went to Ex Libris a whopping once during my four years at the University. The cafe itself was not particularly memorable, which is a darn shame when you think about its location (read: The bloody Reg). Given its context, I think that a visual identity overhaul that references its context/surrounding architecture will be part of any large-scale enterprise to improve said establishment's presence and prominence. The goal would be to make Ex Libris a more formal sit-down establishment, a cafe designed for extended stays that would also appeal to new customers who are more familiar with the Reg than its resident cafe.

Having said this, let's begin with the logo, which acknowledges the Reg's shape and texture, as well as the books housed therein and the name of the cafe itself through the thick "hatching" and a simple directional contrast that lends the impression of a cube/rectangular prism extruding out from a surface (the thick hatch marks were also designed to resemble books' spines). The logo can be extended through patterning, and can serve as the basis of a more elaborate but modular system. It can also be used to "frame" photos or other artwork, thereby making it dynamic.

Materials-wise, the business cards and the cover of the menu would be printed on heavy cover paper (or debossed with the logo foil-stamped or UV-coated if budget constraints permit). The menu covers would  form a heavy folder (heavy cover stock laminated over board stock?), which in turn serves as an affordance for the inside pages, printed on light satin A4, this time without varnishing or UV-coating.

I plan on extending this brand into a holistic system (always a fun exercise), so chances are you'll see some designs for signage/environmental work down the road.

Reappraisals: The Maroon

Quick new re-interpretation of the Maroon (top) and old re-design (bottom)
Note: This hypothetical redesign is the property of Tom Tian, and may not be used without his express permission.

Few things are as sobering and edifying as critiquing one's earlier work. I recall revamping the Chicago Maroon's print edition a few years back and thinking that it was the best thing since sliced bread. At the time, it did represent a pretty radical departure from precedent insofar as it attempted to be much more systematic in its type treatment, hierarchy, and layout. It was also more generous in its use of white space, which helped to punctuate and define the content.

Looking back, my runaway indulgence in systematism undermined its long-term reproducibility. Contrast is a good thing, but overuse leads to complex systems that cannot be easily duplicated. Moreover, excessive differentiation risks fragmenting the design into components that do not easily cohere into one product or idea.

With this in mind, if I were to redesign the Maroon again today I'd start with a modular grid and scale; without changing the size of the page, this means setting down a 5 x 8 grid and 3:4 scale, which roughly correspond to the page itself (11:17). Once determined, these relations would then inform my subsequent choices, such as spacing and type size.

Whereas the old redesign was a cacophony of various weights and types (Gotham and Adobe Caslon), the new one would use fewer weights from one family (Adobe Garamond Pro), set flush left to facilitate reading. The modular grid can be thought of as a chart or table of sorts, whereupon horizontal rules of varying weights can serve to divide/partition the page into portions that reflect the importance of whatever content it houses, thereby shifting the burden of differentiation from the type to spacing and layout.

On the non-design side, I would do away with bylines in favor of an expanded masthead; the "topic tags" would also go, as they belong online and have no place in print. The end product is a more modular, parsimonious system that retains the virtues of the older design while curbing its excesses.

Tri-X 2011

Laid out in Illustrator CS5; font: Gotham

I picked up some Tri-X yesterday because my refrigerator's film-to-food ratio was dangerously low, and decided to do a quick 'n' dirty reinterpretation of Kodak's packaging, which looks about as good as their annual earnings report. My version adds more large-small and light-dark contrast, uses a simple 3 x 3 underlying grid and modular scale to lend it a bit more structure, and avoids overly complex gradients in favor of simpler ones. It lacks proper barcodes and icons for recycling, though it's not difficult to see where those would fit.

The logo was more of a quick fix than anything else, and I'm not terribly happy with it.

UPDATE: It occurred to me that the reverse side of the pro pack needs to be flipped so as to display properly once the box is assembled.

Candid Assessments: The Point

Old cover is on the left; my quick reinterpretation, laid out in Illutrator CS5
using Trade Gothic is on the right. Copy unceremoniously borrowed from
The Point's website, so pardon any mistakes.
Cover features City (Westward) (2008), by Jason Salavon.

I recall looking over a classmate's shoulder once in an art history lecture to find him "designing" a cover for what turned out to be the first issue of The Point. The publication of record is a seldom-released but well curated, reputable (and widely distributed) small-scale journal that attracts good writers owing to its close connections with the University.

Problem is, that's not the impression most people would get upon seeing said magazine for the first time, and the haphazard design is to blame.

The masthead is plagued by the loose leading between the words "THE" and "POiNt," the iffy kerning between the letters "N" and "t," the unsettling disproportion between the counter and bowl of the letters "P" and "O," respectively, and the unnecessary tension between the word "THE" and "POiNt," which, though of disparate size, are equally heavy. I also take issue with the inconsistent use of upper- and lower-case glyphs, which quite frankly just plain contradicts the professionalism of the content within.

As for the teasers, I really can't say much except that I'd prefer it be set flush left, and that the two tiers of teasers could either be set in separate columns or at least use a more generous paragraph break.

I have no idea what the inside pages look like, but the cover's indecisiveness (is it a journal or a magazine?) inspires doubt. I do, however, like the fact that it's printed on something that resembles a standard trade paperback/ISO A4 instead of ANSI A1, which ought to make it slightly easier to read.

Good content deserves good design. Let's hope that changes soon.

On an unrelated note, here's a doodle I made of a happy lumberjack:

Children of the Corn

India ink on bristol board (vellum finish)

Some artwork for an upcoming illustrated poster.

Hemispheric Defense

Illustrator CS5; font: Melbourne

Not a gradient, bevel, or crappy stock photo in sight, just the way I like it.

Man of Letters

Eustace Tilley: A man of letters

Pencils of my entry for this year's Eustace Tilley Contest

Please, Sir, No Meat-Touching!

Designed in Adobe Illustrator CS5; font: Helvetica Neue

Aw, yeah--good times.