Alex Heslop

Agnes Martin

That’s a mighty fine tip.

Thanks Agnes, you absolute BABE.

Steven Heller: graphic design EL CAPITANO, writer & former director of the NY times, is a particular hero of mine.

And has recently come up with this rad (albeit badly titled) little number.

Here, he asks eighty COSMIC graphic designers, teachers & writers to chat about some of their fave designs.

Among them, those familiar guys from the US: Geoff McFetridge from the west & galpal Liz Danzico from the east and print MASTER Jonny Hannah is in there waving the flag for Britain.

It’s a rather special fleet of DREAMBOATS.

The Graphic Design flotilla.

No, wait…that’s too fancy…ARMADA.

Yes, THE GRAPHIC DESIGN ARMADA.

Aaron Draplin.

If you don’t know about this kickass all-American rad dude from Portland, check out his interview on the Great Discontent.

If you can’t be bothered to read all that (it’s pretty frikin’ long), in a nutshell: he’s that guy behind field notes, makes KILLER logos and generally does awesome stuff.

I re-watched his creative mornings talk this morning.

Check it.

Never ceases to make me smile.

Plus, it’s a good one to whistle to while you work.

Ten things this guy has taught me:

No.1 Go out and find great stuff

No.2 Move somewhere WILD

No.3 Work with your pals

No.4 Purple is always bad

No.5 Sign makers have the power

No.6 Know what you love

No.7 Know what you hate

No.8 Get your hands dirty

No.9 Think about stuff more

No.10 Collect cool shit

Fin.

We all know Will Morris was great: the BIG DADDY of modern design; united the artist and craftsman; great design for all. And all that…

We’ve heard it before.

But, I found this particularly special quote from this top fella this morning. And thought I’d share.

“The true secret of happiness lies in taking a genuine interest in all the details of daily life.”

So keep a beady eye on… everything.

And be more aware of…details.

Got it.

Nice one Morris. 

They don’t say you were the bees knees for nothing.

You are the big daddy after all.

Love a bit of Durer. #madengravingskillz (at Birmingham Museum & Art Gallery)

Sometimes, inspiration can come from the most unexpected places.

And every now and then, someone does something that surprises you.

In November 2009, Pope Benedict XVI invited around 500 artists to the Sistine Chapel.

A host of writers, film makers, curators, singers, architects and designers turned up to discuss the renewal of the alliance between art and the church.

Here’s the man himself, waving away at his talented audience.

He concluded his speech with these words of wisdom.

Brace yourself…

“…what is capable of restoring enthusiasm and confidence, what can encourage the human spirit to rediscover it’s path, to raise its eyes to the horizon, to dream of a life worthy of its vocation- if not beauty?…You are the custodians of beauty: thanks to your talent, you have the opportunity to speak to the heart of humanity, to touch individual and collective sensibilities, to call forth dreams and hopes, to broaden the horizons of knowledge and of human engagement.”

Custodian of beauty ay?

Gotta remember that one.

Thanks Popey.

Read more about this in the current issue of Works That Work, one of my fave magazines about unexpected creativity and discovering beauty in everyday life.

“Much that is said about beauty and its importance in our lives ignores the minimal beauty of an unpretentious street, a nice pair of shoes or a tasteful piece of wrapping paper, as though those things belonged to a different order of value from a church by Bramante or a Shakespeare sonnet. Yet these minimal beauties are far more important to our daily lives, and far more intricately involved in our own rational decisions, than the great works of art…They are part of the context in which we live our lives, and our desire for harmony, fittingness and civility is both expressed and confirmed in them. Moreover, the great works of architecture often depend for their beauty on the humble context that these lesser beauties provide.”

Roger Scruton, Beauty (2009)

I have a soft spot for Lucien Pissarro.

Not only are his wood engravings pretty great and his books rather beautiful, but being the son of one of the greatest Impressionist painters OF ALL TIME must have made life pretty hard.

Here’s an engraving of his (INCREDIBLY French looking) big Daddy.

Lucien Pissarro, Portrait of Camille Pissarro, 1893.

Although he was born in France, Lucien spent most of his days in Britain. Here he became, much to his father’s dismay, greatly influenced by the work of William Morris and pals.

By 1891, Morris had founded the Kelmscott Press and began producing exquisite, hand-made books. Lucien wanted to do something similar. And so set up his own press, Eragny in 1895.

He spent the next 20 years labouring away over the production of 32 hand-crafted books with his wife, Esther.

Check out their RAD little signature...

ELP: Esther & Lucien Pissarro

Badass TEAMWORK right there.

His father, however, dismissed their work as being too stiff, imitative and too overall ‘British’. 

Soz Camille. 

But not only did Lucien find a way to import the Impressionist style into the woodcut medium; of all the private presses that flourished in England during the 1890s and up to WWI, Eragny achieved the most harmonious union of typography and imagery.

Oh and they worked jolly hard at it too.

Lucien designed his own typeface, Brook Type, made the woodcuts and operated the printing press with his own hands, all the while struggling with ill health and lack of capital.

What a DUDE.

And despite these tough times (which consequently meant the Pissarros were only able to publish a relatively small number of titles), Eragny has definitely earned a special place on the shelves of biblio-history.

Have a look at these fine specimens…

Very nice team Pissarro, very nice.

To see more, take a glance here: http://www.elstonpress.com/EragnyPosy.html

Tadaa #always

Thomas Bewick. 

What a joker. 

Back in 2010, I went along to Birmingham’s Ikon Gallery (one of the finest in the Midlands) to see Tale-pieces, an exhibition devoted entirely to the vignettes of this 18th century British wood engraver and naturalist.

What a TREAT.

Bewick’s love of the countryside and rural life has made him a pretty popular guy over the years, being probably most famous for his illustrations for General History of Quadrupeds and History of British Birds. For they are, I must say, some of the greatest natural history encyclopaedias I’ve ever seen.  

But, his Tale-pieces (so called because they appear at the bottom of a page or end of a chapter) are really quite special. 

Born at Cherryburn in Northumberland, Bewick spent his childhood on a small farm on the banks of the River Tyne.

Dreamy. 

These fun little engravings provide a window into this idyllic rural life. And the detail they contain is breathtaking. 

But what I like most about them is that they not only playfully tell moral ‘tales’ about human foibles, providing an invaluable insight into social history; but demonstrate an incredible amount of imagination and wit.

Each tiny scene, usually filled with a cast of scoundrels, mischievous drunkards or animals up to no good, is full of drama. And capture moments which, well, let’s just say are quite surprising for a 18th Century engraver. 

For example, here’s a crafty monkey basting a chicken.

And some funny little fellows riding into battle.

And someone…well… 

Oh, and some dead guy.

Pretty wild Bewick. Pretty wild. 

Following on from yesterday’s post about my day of fun over at Nomad Letterpress, I thought I’d stick with a similar theme and post a blog or two over the next few days about wood engraving. 

Here’s some fun facts:

The technique was developed at the end of the 18th century by Thomas Bewick (more on him tomorrow). And, with the development of new machinery, it was later popularised in the 1860s by established artists who recognised its commercial potential (more on that next week).

Wood engravings appear both as prints and in books. Wood blocks can withstand great amounts of pressure and are therefore suitable for large editions. They can be incorporated with the letterpress so that text and image can be printed together on the same machine.

Handy.

Though less widely used now, the technique is still prized as a high-quality specialist technique of book illustration, and is promoted by the Society of Wood Engravers. If you’re interested, they sum up the process quite well here: http://www.woodengravers.co.uk/process.html

But before I go on, I must stress here how tricky wood engraving is. 

Having only tried it a couple of times, I must admit, I’m not a natural. 

Firstly, you incise, in REVERSE, your design against the end grain of a block of hard wood. Box is best. But cherry works well too. The block is then rolled up with ink and printed. The cuts made into the wood appear white, the remaining top surface, black. You are, in effect, drawing with light. 

You use a small sharp ‘>’ shaped tool to make the incisions which, when applied against the hard grain, allows for accuracy in line and detail. However, this demands an incredible amount of control as the blocks are highly sensitive. One little slip and the design is ruined. 

To top it all off, because you are engraving against the grain, the blocks are limited in size. Most wood engravings are therefore pretty tiny; the average one measuring around 10cm x 8cm. And incisions are, more often than not, not much thicker than a strand of hair. Bewick’s vignettes particularly demonstrate the level of detail that can be achieved. The actual size of the one below is less than 1 inch high. 

Crazy right?

Oh SPOILER ALERT: there’s a sneaky preview of what’s in store tomorrow. 

Working on such a small scale with a process that demands an incredible amount of concentration and a keen eye for detail, I must say, is exhausting. And only for the very steady handed. 

But I mention this as knowing a little bit about the process, makes the work of those that have mastered it, appear all the more magical. 

Enter Miriam MacGregor.

Whilst at Whittington, I was fortunate enough to meet Miriam when she popped in for the afternoon. 

Having trained at the Hastings School of Art, she has been associated with the Whittington Press for around 37 years.

Her work is really quite something. 

Oh look, here’s some of it…

Panic on Tunnel Hill, Miriam MacGregor

Her early illustrations for Allotments by R.P Lister (1985), have to be my fave. You can buy the book over on Amazon.

As you can see, they’re pretty special. 

She sure has an eye for subject and composition. The little plots, which are the shelter and delight of so many townsfolk, are described with great affinity; their crops, sheds beanpoles and inhabitants are, often humourously, brought to life. 

Yep, beautiful stuff.

Hats of Miriam, you wizard.

Until tomorrow kids.

As some of you may know, I have spent the last couple of months helping set up a community letterpress workshop in the centre of Bristol.

Here’s a little background info…

There has been letterpress printing in Bristol for over 500 years. 

But, a couple of months back, Nick Hand: graphic designer, photographer & long-standing pillar of wisdom, noticed there were sadly no longer any working presses left in the city. 

This wouldn’t do.

So with a view to rekindle the craft, he asked James Lucas (co-founder of The Bristol Bike Project & boneshaker magazine & all-round RAD dude) and I to jump on board.

And HEY PRESTO, the Letterpress Collective was born. 

Through a combination of kind donations and James’s PRO detective skills, we have laid our hands on some very fine slumbering printing presses that were still dotted around the city. We’ve also been looking to harness the skills of a number of retired printers and type compositors keen to pass on their knowledge.

Anyway, this weekend, we officially became a registered CIC.

Hoo-flippin-rah. 

And the three of us are now officially proper directors and proper founding members. 

We even have a swanky new site (thanks Jon Heslop).

So yeah, it’s all proper.

GO TEAM.

Anyway, as the builders work their magic on renovating the space over at Centrespace cooperative, the three of us thought it would be a great idea if we spent a few days learning some letterpress skills (probably a good place to start).

So this bank holiday, we set off to the beautiful village of Whittington and spent the day at Nomad Letterpress, part of the Whittington Press with TOP printers Pat & John Randle.

WHAT A DAY. Have a butchers at what we got up to…

The Whittington Press.

James and Lawrence having a great time.

We spent the morning composing type, taking extracts from Barbara Henry’s beautiful books of ‘random reports’. Printed on a Vandercook Proof Press and published by the Harismus Press, these great little poems are constructed out of randomly chosen words and phrases cut from the first section of The New York Times.  

Here they are. Mighty fine, huh? 

The afternoon was spent pining over Whittington’s wonderful collections of books, prints and wood engraved blocks and exploring the treasures found in their abundance of type trays. Crazy good.

We finished the day off nicely by printing a few bits and bobs for ourselves: Nick, realising how old he was, forgot to proof read his prints and ended up with a nice, albeit badly spelt, set of 10 point type business cards; James got his dad-on and made his newborn son a series of quotes like a BOSS and Lawrence and I printed some birthday presents.

Oh, Lawrence is learning to be one of our technicians. Hero. 

Look at us go…

James printing like a CHAMP.

Letterpress ftw!

Our van is a bit broken at the mo. @jonheslop is gunna get his fix on this summer though.

Pretty great sky tonight. #kent

Kent sunset

The prints of British-born etcher and painter Joseph Webb are relatively unknown.

I was lucky enough to discover the work of this national treasure when rummaging through Aberystwyth’s bountiful print collection a few years back. 

Here’s a few fun facts, followed by some of my fave prints by this unsung hero…

Born in Ealing and spending most of his days roaming the British countryside in pursuit of fine subject matter, Joseph Webb made a pretty great contribution to the so-called ‘Etching Revival’ of the 1920’s. 

After the War, many British artists sought stability in past traditions. Their approach to landscape was consequently rather topographical and conservative. Original yet affordable, modern etchings became a symbol of refinement; everything the War had obliterated. 

 Webb’s prints of ancient buildings and idealised landscapes speak of a past golden age; a sanctuary of rural life. In addition, they have a certain spiritual and mystical quality, which, as you can see for yourself, makes for some pretty powerful pieces…

Asylum (1930-31). 

Pembroke 

To see more, take a gander here: http://www.robertmeyrick.co.uk/josephwebbprintsanddrawings.html#grid

Fit ceiling #oxford