A Rant

I heard a singer songwriter on NPR name Sarah Jarosz. I went to iTunes and downloaded the music for $7.99 thinking "this is so great, instant gratification!" Sarah is a multi-instrumentalist and wrote all but two of the songs (there is a beautiful beautiful cover of The Decemberist's "Shankhill Butchers") which I gleaned from the blurb on iTunes. All of a sudden, my instant gratification is turning to frustration: What instruments does the multi-instrumentalist play? The iTunes blurb mentions the mandolin. But is she playing the banjo or fiddle or guitar as well? There's another cover song  called "Come On Up To The House" but I can't remember who wrote it. Is she singing harmony or is it someone else?

WHERE IS MY DIGITAL BOOKLET iTUNES???!!!!!

It totally bugs me. It has completely changed my listening experience. Not only do I miss the artwork in my hands but I have to go on an internet expedition to often find that the artists websites have not posted the album credits on their site.

I think iTunes should offer equality for all and let EVERY artist have a digital booklet if they are willing to create one for their dumb, proportionally unfriendly format. 

Ways of Seeing

When I was studying design, required reading was John Berger's Ways of Seeing. 

It made me think about our visual culture. When I am thinking of creative direction for a CD package, I always try and present two distinct ideas with very different visual references. 

This is something that I, as a commercial artist feel required to do; present options.

This is the reason I love to look at art that has no client. Art that comes purely from the mind and soul. These images are some of my most favorite images of water which is my most favorite element to gaze upon.  Hiroshi Sugimoto's pristine and serene photographs of glassy water and endless horizon lit by the sun at various times of the day and Roni Horn's turbulent photographs of the sea, all murky and undulating and turbulent.

Respect the Source Material

Here's where I feel particularly lucky and grateful as a designer. To have music as my source material.

It is important to take this content, the source material, seriously. In a perfect world, I receive rough mixes or if I am really fortunate, MP3s of the demos which, in the case of a singer songwriter, is mostly just vocals and guitar. The demos are the songs at their purest, before the producer sprinkles fairy dust over them and they become fleshed out and big. I like to sit with the songs for a few days while ideas start forming. If the material is inspiring, I can usually see pictures in my head right away. It's the time where I start sketching, doodling, poring over lyrics to pick out the vivid images and key phrases. I start to look for supplemental material, from 19th century schoolbook primers to modern comics/graphic novels for inspiration. This is a rewarding phase in the design process. Your mind is open to infinite possibilities.

On Being Interested

My design process begins with my immersion in culture and media. I read books and magazines, see movies, look at fashion on the street, check out design blogs and go to museums and art galleries. This is how I develop a visual vocabulary. 

It is fascinating to see what has come before and what is going on now. This week, I am currently reading One! Hundred! Demons! by Lynda Barry,  went to the Francis Bacon show at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, saw PJ Harvey at the Beacon Theater, pored over the ephemera art section at the Strand Bookstore and checked out some gallery shows in Chelsea. I look for inspiration (and take my point and shoot camera) everywhere.

I Miss Polaroids: The Notebook Project

Margaret Kilgallen, a wonderful illustrator who exited earth way too soon, said this: "From a distance it might look straight, but when you get close up, you can always see the line waver. And I think that's where the beauty is." This is what I love about polaroids. Their imperfection. The beautiful dreamy accidents that happen before all the kinks are worked out. I miss polaroids.

I created a flickr page of quick scans of my notebooks over the years. At each shoot I would grab a polaroid, paste it into my notebook and write some details. I miss those moments. I also kept the best polaroids intact. One day, I'll scan those and post them. But for now, you can have a look at The Notebook Project. 

A Caveat

I was recently interviewed by Martin Colyer for Varoom Magazine who is doing a story on Aimee Mann's last three CD packages. I told him that I didn't think I would be well suited to design anything else besides music; that the strict discipline of design didn't hold the key to my passion. It's the music that inspires me. That being said, design purists should probably roam elsewhere (I am particularly fond of Design Observer).

Designing for Music

I have been designing for music for almost twenty years. There is a complex skill set that music packaging designers put into use when designing CD packages. Depending on the musician, the record label (if they have one at all) and the artist's management, you rely not only your design skills but your psychology skills are constantly on red alert, you often need nerves of steel and you always have to have a thick skin.

Unlike so many other design disciplines, in music you have a product that has an opinion and talks back. Some musicians enjoy the artwork process; others not so much. In all my projects, I have tried to communicate visually what the viewer will soon be experiencing aurally.

And I will always believe, since the moment I laid my eyes on the cover of the Beatles "Revolver" LP Jacket as a four year old child, that when the visuals are conceptually sound and well executed, it is an "experience" that goes with the music.

This is my blog about my design process.