The Troubles

While searching Flickr for copyright free shots for comps for the agency I work for (dirty little internet secret), I stumbled upon this brilliant photoset by a photographer, Peter Denton in the UK who, for a time, worked as the still photographer for the UK program "This Week", documenting the upheaval in Ireland at the time. Besides the lovely framing, the quality of the images, somewhere between post-apocalyptic and magical realism , is only enhanced by the heavy red and yellow tone of the film and the overcast sky. Red vans, pink berets, coats of arms, blue graffiti, yellow banners. Sometimes, a set of images taken together carries a weight the one alone can't.

Sausage Factory: Done Got Hitched, Part 1

So I've decided to start doing something on this blog I'd like to call The Design Sausage Factory, because I like the sound of that, and I've had a little wine and it sounds totally fine to me right now. I thought it might be cool to document how a design or illustration that I'm working on starts out when it's first concepted, and then update it with various installments until the final product comes shooting out the gristle-caked slough onto the slick factory floor below, glistening with fatty design-y residue of another concept hog butchered in the name of an idea . I'm always really amazed at how certain design projects and tones can change over the course of time, and I never really save different iterations, so I figure this is as good a venue as any. Not only do I get see myself how it progressed, but so do all seven of my readers. (Hi, Dad!) So strap on your company-issued hard hats, folks: the factory floor calls!

The project in question is actually one of a rather personal nature, which is great because I actually care about it more than most (just kidding, paying clients!). As you may know, the lovely Molly and myself will be getting married this November, and such a big event of this nature always is in need of some serious design direction. Without a cohesive identity, defined themes, and a sensible pallette, the whole thing will spiral out of control, we'll break up, and the building we're getting married in will probably set on fire. I really, truly believe this. This is what happens when a visual nerd gets married.

(...and for those of you guys out there who think that I'm being a sissy for caring about the visual identity of my wedding: turn your back on your girl for a second, and you may end up wearing a pink bowtie. Heed me now!)

In all seriousness, though, there were certain tones and themes that both Molly and I talked about wanting to evoke, and so the closer we hit to our mark, the more success we feel the event will be.

So.

Step One: Themes

Luckily, I happen to be marrying a girl who is with me in firm belief that there is nothing worse than this or this or whatever. So let's just wipe that crap right out.

We're both rather nostalgic for times past, we both really enjoy a certain early 20th century iconography, and we both think the saccharine sweetness wrapped around some weddings is, well, kinda gross, so we want to pull it more to a quirky, esoteric, and nearly DIY feel. We're also having our wedding very close to Halloween, so we'd like to encapsulate *some* of that feeling (ornate decreptitude, interesting foliage) with out most of the traditional ridiculousness (Hot Topic, goths). As you can see, the target we are trying to hit from a visual point of view is very narrow, and hence takes a great deal of focus.

Step Two: Influences

- 1893 through 1925, and the associated themes
- Art Nouveau
- The White City
- Traditional book binding
- Scientific etchings
- Taxidermy
- Pre-Edwardian typography and patterns
- non-traditional flora
- Perhaps even Art Deco, if we feel like stretching the time period.

(Thanks, HC!)

Step Three: Palettes and Font Options

So, having throughly processed all the images we pored over, I came with a set colors that seemed to recur many times:



...and the best I could do with my current set of fonts that seemed time appropriate, though I'm not really thrilled with any of them.



I have, however, just been turned on to a set that seems kind of perfect.

Step Four: First Attempt

So this is what I got from just kind of screwing around:



Neither of us are thrilled with it, but we agree it's going in the right direction: the colors seem right, but there needs to be more wedding and less wallpaper. Stay tuned...

New work

Just quick note to update you of some of my most recent projects:



The first is the aforementioned skatedeck I worked on for a show at Space Gallery a few weeks ago. Tim Lillis of Narwhal Creative and I both created a deck, and they both rule: I think mine is about halfway there in terms of what was in my head versus what actually came out, but my next piece in this same scheme will be farther along, I think. Also, Jesse, of Subhead Grip provided some incredible griptape work that really took the piece to the next level, so thanks to him for all his help. More here.




The second is something I mentioned before, but I actually received the cardpack that I created for the Ignite agency, and they're great: nice printing, excellent stock, beautiful packaging. It's always nice to see your work in physical form, too.





And lastly, more damn Robots and Monsters. As usual.

*UPDATE*: We got blogged by Brainiac again. Sweet!

Printing's Alive

Amen, brother. From Design Observer.

Cardboard is Murder

Damn, this is cool. Molly found this the other day out of a duel headed desire to support independent artists, and also somehow put a stop to my obsession with having dead stuffed animals in our house. Rock Paper Scissors out of Virginia, what looks like a small DIY shop, sells cardboard laser cut into puzzles you can assemble to mock taxidermied heads of elk, moose, and yes, rhinos, among other things. We bought the big one just now.

Pretend you live in the Ernest Hemingway's house, but without the guilt!

Tractorbot

Tractor for experimental lifeboat at Dungeness
Originally uploaded by Whipper_snapper

I love this thing. It looks like a character out of a children's book. Soooo cool.


I added this with the new Flickr - Blogger App. Why, oh, why have you place the image all the way on the right hand side, oh, Flickr. This thing stinks.

Sketchblog 1/19/08

(Click to enlarge)

Above is a last minute poster I did for my friend Scott, in support of a benefit show for the Tia Foundation. Knowing that I'm a total sucker for good causes, he knew I'd jump at the chance, the rat bastard. I ended up only having a small amount of time to do it in, so the above is actually a bit of recycling on my part; a few different pieces from sketch books, brought together in Photoshop and then layed out in InDesign. I'm pleased with the result. Reduce, reuse, redesign, my brothers and sisters.

Your Monster Is Leaking

The above is the debatable leaked concept art of the main antagonist monster in the new film Cloverfield, to be released in about 2 weeks. Filmed in the faux-verite style so popular with the kids in recent years, there's been internet chatter back and forth about whether this is just fan art, a ruse created to throw off the fanboys, or the actual good stuff, but regardless, I like the illo a lot. Look out! Walking whale!

Now, all we have to wait for is to see whether is actually going to be a cool movie that will live up to the hype, or yet another in a series of disappointing movies that could never replicate the excitement generated by their art direction and pricey ad campaigns. It may be that my advanced age of almost 30 has made a cynic out of me, but I ain't holding my breath.

*UPDATE!* Turns out it's not real, just some guy's stab at it. I still like the drawing, though.

How To Draw A Face

Every once in a while, The Internets come through and actually fufills the promise of bringing us all closer together, as one people. It's in these bright and shining moments when I actually allow myself a glimmer of hope that humanity may actually not totally screw things up beyond recognition. This story is one of those moments.

It will make you laugh. It will make you cry. It will teach you how to draw a face. It's like a mytsery and a buddy movie and feel-good family drama all in one.

Dig it.

(via Drawn!)

Year's End

Above is some of my most recent advertising work that I've done for Golden Lasso, up in Seattle, which I'm happy with. Once again, it looks like I'm solidifying my rep as "that robot guy". Also, I'm pretty sure I worked with one of those robots at a temp job once.

As the year draws to close, I like to think about projects I did, weird events that occurred, and people I met that left an impression. In that vein, the run down:

This year I:

- Hooked up with Richard Salzman as my agent, which has been nothing but a great
experience.

- Got invited to Seoul to present at SICAF about mobile comics.

- Launched RobotsAndMonsters.org

- Ran my first marathon.

- Got a totally awesome new apartment.

- Got mugged at gunpoint.

- Saw 2 friends get married, and wished well 2 more from afar.

- Spent an awkward Christmas with both my parents at once, the first time in 12
years.

- Actually got most of my income by drawing for money, a first.

Which makes 2007 kind of a gorgeous year, in retrospect, besides the mugging part, and even that, once could argue, is informative in a Bukowski-would-have-dug-this-life-experience-kind-of-way. So I'm nothing but pleased.

Every single year, I write down things that I'm going to do in the next year on a piece of paper, and I keep it in my wallet. It's a constant barking reminder of all the stuff that I still want to get done, and there is no better sense of satisfaction than to cross one of those bad boys off the list. The problem is, I really have no one but me to keep me honest. So this year, I thought I'd post my list. That way, there's more incentive to not write a check my drawing hand can't cash. So, consider yourself witness, dear reader. You are now a part of this.


Next year I'm gonna:

- Get hitched to the greatest girl on the planet.

- Get a publisher for Robots And Monsters: The Book.

- Assemble the pieces for a solo art show.

- Get some comics in a few newspapers.

- Finally do something constructive with The Basic Virus.

- Fix my motorcycle.


Also, I'll be in a show next Friday at The Space Gallery in San Francisco, in which I did a custom skateboard , but I'll give more updates on that later. Stay tuned.

Happy New Year, y'all. Be good to one another out there.

Lurvely Spam

Back when The Internets was a mite fresher than it is these days, without the foetid stank of 2G1C mingling with the smoke of a billowing BMW Pain Olympics, my friends and I used to have a good time emailing back and forth some of the more poetic passages of text in the spam we received. Often culled from online sources, patched together in a completely random way, these little pieces of web wisdom would fall onto our collective plates and occasionally produce a real gem. We often bandied back and forth that someday someone (read: one of us) should do something with these things. Someone did.

Linzi Hunter illustrates spam subject lines in that beautiful, Ward Kimball mid-century style so popular these days, and they are, in a word, wonderful. Damn! One of us should have done this. Oh, well. Throw it on the pile with Apocalypse Insurance, Guerrilla Dogs, and Google.

(via the Hermenautic Circle)

The Sum of Our Years

Living My Life Faster - 8 years of JK's Daily Photo Project from c71123 on Vimeo.

From the Times today, an unbelievably fascinating project from Detriot Artist Jonathan Keller.

Besides the obviously cool, if slightly pedestrian project theme ( "Like...life, totally move faster than you think, man!"), I'm more impressed by the technical aspect of the project. You'll notice that his nose tip is in the exact same place every time, which makes me wonder what his method is: perhaps using the previous day as a 50% overlay? A laser guide? Tape marks and shot through a one way mirror? It's impressively consistent.

The other part I really like about this project is his plan is also to keep this project going for the rest of his life. Considering the projected age span for folks of his ( and my) generation, there's a possibility of what would end up being about a half an hour film of a man aging to 90 years old. What an incredible send off once he actually dies: way better than your average wake.Talk about life's work.

Rest On Your Laurels

I was informed the other day that my dad, Brian Alterio has had some of his photographic work from the 1970s entered into the Government Art Collection of the United Kingdom. I understand that this is akin to having your work added to the Smithsonian National Art Archive collection here, so it's huge honor. Most notable among entrants is the image above, the irony of which is that my dad doesn't have a print of this image anymore, or even the negative. I had to email the GAC and beg them for a scanned file, which at 150K, is the biggest file size I could get out of their greasy little hands. So it truly belongs to The State now, I guess.

As a part of the neo-verite school that was bubbling around Britain at the time, alternatively called the Young British Photographers and the Romantic Realists, my dad was but a small cog in the upswell of recognition that photography was an art form best taken on the fly with little fuss, moving away from the staid tired images of previous generations and into more visceral iconic images. From my dad's blurb:

"I was first introduced to photography while trolling the stacks at the library as an under grad at the Mass College of Art in 1966. I happened across a book by Alfred Stieglitz the seminal figure in American photography in the early 20th century. Struck by the power of his images, I urgently set about buying a cheap, rudimentary, yet effective, range finder camera.

From that point onward the trajectory was steep and powerful until I found myself in England in 1972. Coincidentally, the precise point in time when British creative photography was about to make it's second mark in history other than the obvious and great historical figures that populate the books in our libraries and bookshelves today.

At that time I always carried my trusty Lieca everywhere I went day and night every day 365 days a year. Inspired by my predecessors and stimulated by the now famous cadre of young British photographers that would hang out at the offices of Creative Camera in London, I would shoot dozens of rolls of B/W per day and return home to process them.

That period was one of great influence and inspiration in both directions. I had the pleasure to meet and befriend one of the great yet here-to-fore unsung giants of that time Paddy Summerfield in Oxford. Paddy's approach was so unique and powerful as to be the undiscovered avante garde of that period. We shared many hours of hotly debated topics that ranged from Herri Cartier Bresson's "decisive moment" to and including the purity on the frame edge at the precise time of exposure."

I'm gratified at this turn of events of multiple fronts, not the least of which is that I'm really happy for my dad. Once I was born, and then later my sister, my dad stopped shooting and actually got a real job and career. When we were growing up, he would occasionally take us out shooting, but it wasn't as often as probably he would like: he had a lot of his plate at the time, from sustaining a family to managing a crumbling marriage. I can't help but feel partially responsible by my mere existence for my dad not being more renowned than he is. But that's enough Psychology-by-Blogger; I'm just glad he actually is getting some recognition for his vision.

My dad's mention of Paddy Summerfield lends me to add one more link, Paddy's photographic site. He's still shooting, and some of his work is truly amazing, especially the 'handheld' series under 'portrait. It's visionary work, check it out.

Congrats, pop. I love ya.

Jazz's St. James Infirmary Blues

...And then this is just weird.

St James Infirmary Blues

People always ask me why I'm such a grumpy old man and hate on most modern cartoons. This is why. If you're an old hand, enjoy again. And if you've never seen this, gird yourself.

Fever Dreams

Los Angeles' cool thin tendrils slip their sticky coils around me for a few nights this weekend, and all I can think of is the electricity in them that used to be thrilling, but now is static discharge to my frontal cortex. We all assume mantles at a certain point, if only because it's easier: sometimes, your three sentence rundown of how you are in your brain keeps you from going over the edge with self-doubt or, even worse, a booze-fueled existential slip up. Part of my Cliff's Notes involved being the Consummate Los Angeles Defender. My stock lines are familiar to anyone who has gone abroad and felt the need to defend their home country as a place of decent human beings. "It's misunderstood, there's wonderful parts about it, it's so damn trendy to hate it". But for some reason on this particular visit, Madam Angeles kiss feels cold and clammy.

Out in Sherman Oaks, and something strikes me that I could never put my finger on before, maybe because I was too close, too complicit. There's no people here. The abstract of complaining about cars is something that naturally leads people to think of traffic, smog, and delays. But my epiphany is of a more natural sort: looking around, the human form is nary in sight. Tucked safely away in their flying vehicles, funneled onto the city streets where everyone is behind tinted glass, sunglasses, air conditioners. The sight of a human being is rare from the window of a car here. And that, combined with the bright newness of the malls and and streets signs make it look like a place where something just happened for which you were a little late, and now everyone's gone.

But I'm here with Kevin, which is gratifying. We talk projects of all sorts, and as usual when I'm with him, I get excited all over again for my various ridiculous hair brained creative schemes. We flit from location to location like purposeless bees, carried by Santa Anna winds from a production studio to the Tee Yee Lounge for Knob Creek rocks to Canters for Lox and capers. We talk about robots and monsters and comics and films and merchandising and how can rest on our laurels and still make rent. It is a infinitely futuristic web 2.0 existence we lead, joining the other sort-of employed college educated professionals who haunt coffeeshops and exist on their Macbooks and are allowed to be nowhere at 2 PM. Our perfect lucky states are enviable.

Los Angeles breaths. We breath with it and hope it all lasts for a little while longer. The tendrils keep their buzz.

Sketchblog 11/14/07

My new and very belated present to to my friend Rebholz, for his and his wife Catherine's wedding in 2006. Click here for a larger view.

It feels good to get back to comics. Illustration feeds my face. Comics feeds something else inside. Like that weird multi-headed worm that showed up on those medical scans.

Dreams of A Rarebit Fiend: The Movie

Above is actually my first introduction to Rarebit, when I was still in film school, comics weren't in my mind yet, and my animation teacher was blowing my mind every day with more and more obscure early animations. Once again, McCay was decades ahead of any of his contemporaries. I couldn't bully stupid YouTube into including it in the last post, so...enjoy.

Dreams of A Rarebit Fiend: The Book

Over at the Boston Globe Brainiac blog today, Josh Glenn has a really cool and enlightening slideshow about Winsor McCay's early comic (predating Little Nemo in Slumberland), Dreams of a Rarebit Fiend. True to McCay form, the comic's loose pretense, the wild imaginings of restless sleep after ingesting some rarebit, is a close ancestor to Slumberland. The McCay mandate insisted on any excuse to draw the strange and surrealist imaginings going on in his head, and both Slumberland and Fiend offer as much freedom for odd imaginings as possible while still keeping a modicum of plot continuity. He was the world's first pop surrealist, to be sure.

In his slide show, Glenn examines a (unfortunately rather pricey) new self-published book by German scholar Ulrich Merkl, which gives Rarebit a close examination and makes the argument that McCay, and Rarebit in particular, influenced a great deal of popular images in our culture. You won't hear any dispute from me that McCay remains one of the most important artists of the the 20th century, though some examples, like the Buñuel film Age D'Or, carry the argument much more robustly than others, like Mary Poppins. Regardless, it seems like a great book, and the slide show by Glenn is a joy to watch.

Sketchblog 11/7/07

(Click image to enlarge)

Above is the wrap-around album cover art I did for the new Edisyn album. I think it turned out well, if I may be so immodest. I had another idea originally which was rejected that I think I may still ink and color anyway. I worked a little bigger this time on both of 'em - this is 15 inches long - so I think it'll make a good piece for my upcoming show, when I actually get around to planning it.