Illustrious packaging with Malcolm Garrett (so far...)

Malcolm Garrett's good friend Martyn Ware is putting together a compilation of some of the sound artworks he's made under the House of Illustrious banner with Vince Clarke, to be released on Mute Records in a few months' time. Since Malcolm was part of our origins, he kindly thought of ARTOMATIC for the packaging.

This is a tale of development. The set consists of ten CDs and the original thought was to do a perspex cube with each of the CD's held horizontally like a plan chest. This proved to be extortionately expensive, so we went back to a project we did for Alexander McQueen in 98, which consisted of a CD held between two thick perspex discs screwed together on a spindle. All we had to do was extend the spindle to hold ten CD's and interleaved paper (carrying the track listing, one for each disc).

So far so good. We got a prototype made and although it didn't hold enough CD's, it was good enough to start working on something to put it in. We started to think about jewelry packaging and with a bit of on-the-spot box design arrived at a lift-off lid box with a foam insert to present the CD set at a flattering angle.

Though Mute had not given us much of a steer on budget, when we showed it to them–not entirely unexpectedly–they suddenly managed to come up with a figure much smaller than the cost of the box. So, back to the drawing board and Martyn had said he wanted something clear and still jewel-ish and art-ish. The next idea was to mount the CD set in a kind of plinth inside a clear box.

Though the cost was much less, it didn't really look the part. The plastic for the box, unfortunately, has a language of cheap-goods-from China and not the art-piece association we'd hoped for. It's always a challenge–especially when quantities are small and there's not the volume to ammortise the origination costs–to get the right signals from the materials you can afford.

So, last Wednesday, I found myself with Malcolm once more sketching and plotting how we create something that references art, is reverential to the product (still in the perspex, thankfully), and costs less than it looks. We think we may have something, but we'll know more next week when we meet Martyn.

To be continued...

Lurking in the LCC

I was at the London College of Communications yesterday. I casually asked if the famed tension between the design students and their counterparts learning a trade in the printing department still existed–it was always a little microcosm of the tension that existed between the creative and print industries when I started in the business. So, I was led through the inevitable winding corridors, up some bleak stairs to the third floor and into the print department to see for myself.

Despite the obvious connection–it was the London College of PRINTING–I was still taken aback to come face to face with a B2 4 colour Heidelberg press sitting on parquet flooring on the third floor of a London University in Elephant & Castle. Ten years ago, there were thousands of presses in obscure, cramped city-centre buildings, but most have closed or moved out to windy industrial estates in obscure post-codes 'inside the M25'.

Sadly, the LCC no longer runs a proper print course producing trained machine minders. Instead, it teaches digital and DTP skills and keeps the press for students to print their own work. I was equally amazed that students could actually use this machine with only an introductory workshop–though I suspect running was an overstatement and the skilled technicians were never more arm's-reach away.

There was a strange and powerful sadness to the idea that London's principle printing college no longer teaches printing–a bigger kick-in-the-teeth than the digital obsession that's fixating the marketing community nowadays. If there's nobody training to become printers, who's going to run the machines? Unlike letterpress machinery, which has found a grass-roots base to keep it going, colour litho printing isn't really within the realms of hobbyists–a 60 foot long 8 colour press won't fit in a garden shed.

The generation of designers coming through the college now, have grown up without print being part of their daily lives; their relationship with it is different. It's not a necessary part of their visual vocabulary and needn't ever be part of their careers.

So, now there are no inky-fingered print students to jeer at in the canteen, I wondered what the design students thought about printing; what did it mean to them? Whatever it is, it will be a huge loss to them–and us–if it’s not there. So, then I wondered what else LCC could do with that press to make it more valuable to keep?

When you really have to read something...

Russian booksellers 100,000 Books took a literal approach to refreshing their book offer–and a general decline in reading books in Russia–by producing these air-fresheners featuring excerpts from best-selling Russian literature. The idea being that when you're sitting on the loo, you'll happily read anything–even a can of air-freshener, if that's all that's available. Agency: Voskhod (via The Inspiration Room)

Mother London had a very similar thought when they created the Cereal Poetry for Jordans / Penguin in the orginal pilot Matter edition in 2008. Their insight being that you'll always read whatever's on the back of a cereal packet while you're eating the cereal–so why not turn it into a literary moment?

Fenton, Benton, whatever...

Unless you've been under a rock for the last week or so, everyone's been getting in a lather about the bloke chasing his dog chasing the red deer in Richmond Park. And yet, now it all seems so, er, last week.

Not that this was a particularly enriching story, and probably didn't deserve to stay in the limelight for much longer than it did, it does prove the fickle nature of digital media nowadays.

I made these to show how a digital story could be made more tangible and lasting.

I might make some more if people want some. Let's see what happens, if anything.

Rubber bands as communication

Even the most prosaic objects can be employed to say something.

Royal Mail's red rubber bands are so ubiquitous as to be almost invisible–part of the culture. They can be found in every bottom draw, stationery cupboard and handbag in the land. If you've got a red rubber band, it came from Royal Mail. As they are, they don't say much.

But, they could be employed to make a quiet celebration of London hosting next year's Olympic Games, just the London Eye and Empire State building change their lighting to mark different events.

I'd love to see Royal Mail use their iconic rubber bands to make a small statement about our pride and excitement in hosting the games.

What do you think?