As an editorial resident here at AIGA, I spend my time nosing around for interesting design-related goings-on each week (so you don’t have to). Follow along all day, every day on Instagram @AIGAeyeondesign, Facebook, and Twitter @AIGAeyeondesign.
It’s not very often we get to feature work from a Lithuanian designer, so it’s a bit of a treat this week to present some lovely work from art director and graphic designer Tadas Karpavicius, who designed the accompanying booklet to Charles Gounod’s Faust at the Vilnius City Opera. His approach uses a thoroughly modern color palette of bold green, black, and white; with the pages punctuated with Matisse-like cutout graphics. The mixture of various font types and typographic treatments makes for a fresh and contemporary feel, though the designer says that his designs were “inspired by the story and the characters of the opera.”
Most of us likely had a good old whinge about how monumentally shite 2016 was, but an enterprising and engaged bunch of creatives has turned what made that year so poo into a lesson on how we can try to avoid 2017 going the same way, with Dear Europe. The animation reflects on how we can use, in its creators’ words, “lessons gleaned from Brexit and Trump” ahead of upcoming European elections—“namely the Netherlands, France, and Germany.” As such, it’s been translated into Dutch, French, and German as well as English. The team behind the animation (23 designers based in the UK and the U.S., including Johnny Kelly, Jay Quercia, Lana Simanenkova, and Yukai Du) was led by director Erica Gorochow, who says, “Our hope was to impress upon our friends in Europe that the future is written by those who vote.”
Back in 2005, Milton Glaser and Mirko Ilic published The Design of Dissent, a vast and vital tome sparked by the conflicts and crises of the previous decade—those in the Middle East, the “war on terror,” financial and environmental doom and gloom, and a general sense of unease and disenfranchisement. In light of recent times, it’s perhaps little surprise that Glaser and Ilic have decided to create another edition.
“When The Design of Dissent was first published in 2005 we could not anticipate the era of conflict and disorder the world would face in the next decade. We have been immersed in the thousands of manifestations objecting to the political and social issues around the world,” says Ilic. “Artists usually are the alarm system for society. We share the need to express danger when totalitarianism becomes more powerful. The graphic arts community uses the most primitive of means; posters, handouts, buttons, and graffiti linked to provocative ideas to protect us all.”
The authors are looking for your submissions for the new book, which can be put forward through the online submission form.
Well here’s a chipper identity for this year’s Dundee Design Festival in Scotland, created by Fleet Collective. This year’s festival theme is Factory Floor, and the identity takes its color palette from “industrial machinery, signage, and workwear; which tended to be either yellow, blue, or red,” explains the identity’s designer Lyall Bruce. “For the main identity mark we took the work that had been completed for the first Dundee Design Festival in 2016 as a starting point and looked at how we could evolve this, particularly looking at the pattern that was designed, the idea of using that as the building blocks to construct this year’s felt like the right direction.
“This approach led to an interesting experiment in typography, looking at how we could build a logo mark that represented this year’s festival using the fewest shapes possible and still remain legible.”
Some charming new work by Slovakian illustrator Martina Paukova here for Érudit, an online platform hosting scholarly and cultural publications in the social sciences and humanities fields. Her cute and brightly-colored work forms part of a new advertising campaign by Montreal-based agency Wedge, which based its work around the theme, “You can never know too much.”
If you’ve ever been around people who are partial to a little “nose candy,” you know that they really, really like to talk. Here’s something to give them a little more conversational fuel (between toots and explaining how great they are), a summary of the carbon footprint of their little White Lady, and it ain’t pretty. Pentagram London’s Do the Green Thing initiative, produced by Naresh Ramchandani and his team, has created an animation that brings to life the carbon cost of cocaine in Britain, which Pentagram says has “the dubious honor of biggest cocaine users in Europe.”
The agency continues, “Through calculating the amount of carbon dioxide emitted by the three stages of producing cocaine—the deforestation required to grow coca leaves; the transportation of the seven chemicals needed to transform coca leaves into cocaine hydrochloride; and the journey of cocaine from Colombia to the UK—Do the Green Thing estimates that one gram of coke causes 107 kilograms of carbon dioxide to be emitted into the atmosphere.”
Put in more easily digestible terms, 20g of cocaine is equivalent to driving for 3,020 miles. Do the Green Thing has also created Charlie vs. The World, “a handy coke-o-graphic that shows the planetary cost of a cheeky line (or more) in relatable ways.”
Well here’s a poignant project from Singaporean agency Do Not Design. Presenting the work of photographer Koh Kim Chay shot over 20 years, a new book titled Singapore’s Vanished Public Housing Estates showcases the country’s now-vanished early public housing estates and precincts. “From the lush expanse of colonial-era Princess Elizabeth Park estate to the brick-clad heights of Pickering Street, these photographs are not turn-of-the-century archaic, but neither are they contemporary enough to be familiarly recognized—especially to a younger generation of Singaporeans,” says Do Not Design.
The analog images, which were edited by photographer Eugene Ong, are accompanied by postcards, vintage maps, eviction notices and other memorabilia. “Each works associatively and non-verbally to activate the past as something that was lived in; pockets of domestic drama that although enacted years ago are not difficult to reimagine,” the agency adds. “As pictorial records of our first homes in historically significant and newly emerging estates then, they are an invaluable window into Singapore’s changing housing landscape in the ’50s and beyond.”