I enjoy his work because I, like a many illustrators, have the difficulty of finding the patience to create works similar to Birch’s in a digital format. What I mean, more specifically, is the creation of vector artwork with translucent layers, similar to what Birch has done.

What’s more beautiful is the traditional oil medium. The motion is still there, typical of the cubist movements, but there is intense motion and stillness at the same time. I recognize the moving figure, but I see it also as one body, beautiful and complex in color and form.

His work is really beautiful. Check him out.

The regret is only temporary, down to the milliseconds. What I have gained is something far more important than my body of work: thinking like a designer, which I believe manifests itself in both my portfolio and my process to solving communication problems. I didn’t learn this skill in college directly, but through a series of decisions and exposures past what was required of me. During my sophomore year I branched out and began trying to find client work. I utterly failed at branding myself and it wasn’t until a year later that I began to have a constant flow of work. As my portfolio grew and I became happier and happier with my solutions, I still felt incomplete as if there was a potential in me that wasn’t being realized. I have always had a difficult time roping in graphic design and traditional arts, comparing and contrasting the two to oblivion. I wanted so bad to be an artist, but felt conflicted thinking I could call myself that as a graphic designer. The two seemed like different worlds. Its a normal trend for designers to feel like tools of a commercial world. In fact, many of my classmates have felt this way one time or another, or they will begin to feel it as they step out into the industry.

Reading, writing, and thinking about design were scarishly not present in my education. I’m curious if this is the norm in design schools as educators battle to educate the next generation of creative thinkers, especially of the visual kind. I began reading the works of Ellen Lupton and William Drenttel, curious to examine graphic design as a contemporary and autonomous form of academic discourse. What I came to find is a library of documents that trace the evolution of society in respects to design trends, similar to how art informs a present audience to the life and challenges of contemporaneous peoples as seen through the study of art in art history. I stepped back and began to look at a bigger picture. Its not what we create, what fonts we choose, or the palette. Its about the communication and how we as visual thinkers respond to the visual needs of the audience. What do our methods say about our audience? Can we predict their response? Is it  our job to progress societal communication norms? Isn’t that commercial suicide?

Design thinking in my own terms and experiences is nothing more than a constant critical engagement with the world around me, as it pertains to the visual arts. It’s a competitive world out there. I’ve seen that in my job search. But one thing that nobody can copy of yours is your thoughts, opinions, and your courage to participate in the next wave of creatives who progress the visual literacy of the world. I’m not angry that this wasn’t explicitly taught to me, because the independent journey has lead me to a place where I am satisfied with my endeavors. Designers cannot brand their work, nor can they solely rely on their portfolio. But their thinking is what sets them apart.

Moral of the story: Thinking makes an artist. Tools, method, intent and content are only sub-particles that set out to define and separate the two. We need money to survive. An artist wants to sell their work. So what’s the big difference? Prestige, which gets you nowhere.

What set me on this journey? This article.

Without a doubt my lack of exposure to this type of art is a direct result of growing in rural areas, too close to the cows and away from the art culture centers of the nation. I have grown up a bit, the Internet has become wildly popular, and I am much more educated and sensitive to the art world. So what am I waiting for? A conversation with another artist.

A new colleague shared with me a link to a NYTimes article.

At 5 p.m. Monday one of the longest pieces of performance art on record, and certainly the one with the largest audience, comes to an end. Since her retrospective opened at the Museum of Modern Art on March 14, the artist Marina Abramovic has been sitting, six days a week, seven hours a day in a plain chair, under bright klieg lights, inMoMA’s towering atrium. When she leaves that chair Monday for the last time, she will have clocked 700 hours of sitting.

…

Visitors to the museum were invited, first come first served, to sit in a chair facing her and silently return her gaze. The chair has rarely, if ever, been empty. Close to 1,400 people have occupied it, some for only a minute or two, a few for an entire day.

Consider performance art as a new viable art form? Check.

Jinks’ work is fascinating in his utilization of emaciated figures as a means of provocation. Still Life (Pieta) [below] is a reinterpretation of Michelangelo’s Pieta. Mary embraces the dying body of Jesus, stoically mourning the passing of the son of Christ. In Jinks’ rendition, he provides a curious replacement of Mary, a contemporary man in modern dress holding the old, withered and saggy body of an anonymous man. It may or may not be Jesus as it lacks the typical visual clues. Moreover it is a juxtaposition of old and young, clothed and naked, alive and dead. Though all of Jinks’ sculptures are lacking life as it seems, part emaciation part solitude.

His photorealism works paired with the lifelessness of individuals who appear to exist is a beautiful harmony. Definitely a favorite sculptor of mine.

I somehow had neglected revisiting Flickr 9000′s photostream, even after bookmarking it years ago. This anonymous person’s work is ripe with satire, dark comedy, and a twang of social commentary. The works are refreshing with many pieces revisiting a mid-century vintage style.

Check them out. You won’t regret it.

He jumped out at me for a few very different reasons. My contemporaries would classify me as a heavily Swiss influenced designer. That is just one side of the spectrum. Works like We Are America and Trouble at the Pump are some excellent examples that quantifies the polar opposites my design aesthetic takes sometimes.

Victore’s work stuck out at me because of the personal utility of his design. His work is reflective of strong opinions coupled with highly controversial imagery, one of the large inspirations for the We Are America poster. After all, political posters should stir discomfort in the viewer in order to maintain an effective communication. This is one of the main reasons propaganda works, due in part to the successfulness of sensation.

But this brings about an interesting point when discussing the viability of sensationalism in design. I remember in my fine art training being warned about the plague of sensation, more specifically the over indulgence many artists sometimes fall into. Examples can be portraits of children, images of death, etc… Typically these images contain a sensation unique to the artist, though arguably social context gets dragged in alongside it. When boiled down to the bare minimum, you don’t want to give your viewer image porn.

Sensationalism in the graphic arts is another story as this term was never used in the classroom. James Victore’s work would be an excellent example of sensationalism in design, visa vie my two projects linked above. The fascinating dichotomy of design is the tension of art vs. commercial utility. Victore’s work is the embodiment of sensation and opinion, delivered to viewers in the medium of print using the traditional methods of a commercial designer.

I might be on to something here as I try and rationalize my education to real world experiences. I’ve come to find that some of the most popular design is based largely on sensation, which is the direct opposite to the fine arts.

I wanted to take a moment and recognize my former classmates who now have web presence, an almost impossible task when they began the class in January of this year. Congrats to all!

When the movie posters and trailers began to emerge for Where the Wild Things Are, I remember being taken aback by the type. In fact, it was one of the main reasons I was excited to go and see the movie.

Geoff Mcfetridge is the mastermind behind the hand-drawn child-like type of the movie. There is something really beautiful about type inspired by the scribblings of children. The marks are fresh and unconscious, rendered seaming-less.

It might seem simple to recreate a typeface such as this, but in reality, its the coupling of the concept that drives it home for me. A beautiful juvenile font, massive puppets, the tainting of a child on an untouched rabble of simple creatures; all of these variables make the type more believable, more credible. Geoff’s work falls on this aesthetic of wonky reminiscent doodles of childhood. Definitely a designer to watch.

I kept this in mind as I developed the new website, built off the WordPress Software I always encourage. After a month, Wall Construction began to receive Google search engine hits. Today, it rests at #7, as opposed to the #52 it was when I began.

Tricks of the trade!

Using powerful, intuitive software provided by Issuu.com, coterie magazine’s issues can be browsed in a simple flash interface.

AFTD’s 2009 Annual Report is hot off the press.