the view from here

The Soviet Style

I was recently approached to design a poster for the Thayer Street Grand Opening here in the South End of Boston. The client wanted a Soviet-style poster with a fist -- because the event was on May Day (May 1). I also provided an alternative.

Here are the results of my labors:

and

I used my own hand to model the fist -- notice the slender wrist in an otherwise sturdy forearm. It was fun illustrating this poster. I looked at a bunch of Soviet Era posters to figure out how to deal with the type. I decided on something bold and big. I used outlines on the type to make them more defined. 

For the second poster, you can view the Soviet original here. I pulled a Shepard Fairey on this one. 

You know that communism and socialism have been totally de-fanged when you can use the visual language of those ideologies to illustrate a capitalist enterprise. I wonder how many people will pick up on the Soviet influences in these posters. It seems so long ago when Cold War was in full swing, people were getting hauled into HUAC, and someone could get blacklisted for having communist/socialist sympathies. Say what you will about the evils of communism, but those Soviets produced visually striking propaganda -- they were on the cutting edge of photography, typography, and design. There is something sensationally original about the graphics from that era. They really owned their look. It is hard to imagine the people who designed these fantastic posters did so in the midst of Stalin's Purges, famines, forced re-settlements, and mass executions. 

Anyway -- new stores and galleries will be opening on May 1. Only the graphics are communist -- the party is pure free market capitalism.

Illustration Friday: Forgotten

This is Stu Flynn. He is in no way forgotten, but he certainly looks like he is desperately trying to remember something. Stu is, in fact, the unofficial mayor of 46 Waltham Street, a building housing a lot of artists' studios here in the South End. He patrols the first floor when he's not working at M. Flynn, where he's actually got quite the discerning eye for jewelry and handbags -- just one of the many reason the ladies love Stu Flynn.

Holiday Decor

Sometimes the casual approach to holiday decorating is the best. This is a wall at Harry O's, a local sub shop on Washington Street. It's an unassuming little joint that serves a spectacular grilled chicken salad.

I love the use of scotch tape to affix the stocking -- practical and straightforward. Any other place it would smack of thoughtlessness and a shocking lack of aesthetics, but at Harry O's it just works. Maybe I cut them more slack because they call their customers "Honey" or maybe I just like them. But I like the way this wall looks in all its starkness. I think I like the way the tape becomes a part of the whole aesthetic. There's so little going on in this wall that every element makes a statement. The framed picture in the corner is of the folks who run Harry O's and the mayor of Boston, Thomas Menino. I like the expression of civic pride. Nice going, Harry O's!

All Is Calm, All Is Bright

Well, it was.

I took this picture last Thursday, after the first snowstorm. I'm not the kind of person who takes a lot of pictures. It's not that I'm averse to snapping pics -- it just doesn't occur to me to do so and when it does, I'm usually without my camera. But last week when a snowstorm was predicted, I remembered how beautiful Union Park looked last year and I made a mental note to take a picture this year.

I must thank the good folks at the Union Park Neighborhood Association who decorate the Park with lights in the winter and flowers in the spring and summer. This year they not only strung white lights around the fountains but also decorated the basins with evergreens. The effect is simply charming.

There's something truly magical about the first moments after a snowstorm. Everything is so quiet; all I could hear was the snow under my feet and the beating of my heart. I love the stillness of the air and the muffling of all noises. Then folks come out with their shovels and start clearing their walkways. Everybody's quite neighborly and the strange peace lasts until you hear the whirring of tires stuck in snow. The spell is broken and you wake up the next morning with aches in muscles you hadn't even realized you had. But for a few minutes after a snowstorm you're somewhere else, somewhere long ago and far away.

49 (Clarendon Street)

It's so rare to see hand-lettered signs these days. Getting professionally designed and manufactured letters might give most businesses and residences a more finished look but the price of that polish is a certain dull uniformity and lack of spontaneity. I'm all for uniformity in highway signs and street signs. I'll even concede that zoning codes have their place. But for me, finding a beautifully hand-lettered business sign or street number is like finding a fifty dollar bill on the ground. It's so unexpected, so delightful.

When I pass this street number, I try to stop and admire it. I wonder about the person who drew it. That person had the presence of mind to paint a layer of white on the concrete substrate before drawing the black numerals so there would be more contrast between the numerals and the background. Genius! Upon closer inspection, you can see the texture of the concrete breaking through the paint -- who would have thought the ravages of time and weather could look so beautiful? The vigor of the strokes says the writer has some training in lettering or is just extremely confident; quite possibly both.

There is no house or brownstone at 49 Clarendon Street right now. It's just a vacant lot that some folks use for parking. It's just a matter of time before it gets developed and it's goodbye hand-lettered 49 and hello spiffy, store-bought, brass numbers (visibly affixed with screws, no less). While it's here, I'll visit it. I'll take pictures of it. I'll build a little home for it in my memory where it will always be bold, confident, and alive.