Blast from the past

Graphic design in the Fifties and Sixties was the playbill version of Googie: exuberant, absurd, energetic, Atomic Age America.

A tab at the top or bottom was left blank so local information could be added. That's why the type looks different.

I was looking for Howard Gallagher, owner of Camden Falls Gallery. Coincidently, he was looking for me. Curiously, we were both thinking about music, not painting.

In our youth, my husband was a bass player with Buffalo bluesman, Shakin’ Smith. We drew straws to see who had to get a real job, and he lost. He still plays, and he’d like to play more. The trouble is that his contacts are few up here in midcoast Maine. There doesn't seem to be as much of a live music scene here as in Buffalo. That's odd, considering this is a tourist destination.

Buffalo’s last bar call was at 4 AM. This created a world of its own for musicians, who generally had to wait until the last drunk stumbled out before the owner would unfist his cash. Often, musicians wouldn’t even start playing until 11 PM. One fine summer morning, Doug and I returned home after a gig to find his father up painting the garage door. He seemed inexpressibly old, but he was younger then than we are now.

This schedule was a remnant of an era when the mills roared 24-7. Bars stayed open to accommodate shiftworkers. That world is documented in Verlyn Klinkenborg’s elegiac The Last Fine Time.

Neither of us want to stay up all night drinking in seedy dives, but Doug does want to play. Howard likes music, so I called to see if he had any ideas.

No, but he needed a poster designed for a series of swing shows he’s organizing in Northport this summer. Back when Doug was playing the bass, I was doing graphic design using paper, an X-Acto knife, waxer, rapidograph pens, and other obsolete tools of the trade. I quit long after the transition to computers—almost exactly twenty years ago, in fact—but I still remember the basics.

Most of those mid-century type treatments were hand-drawn with pen and ink. Nobody was particularly fettered by so-called good taste or rules about the number and kinds of display fonts that were tossed together. Graphic design was the playbill version of Googie: exuberant, absurd, energetic, Atomic Age America.

I didn’t have enough time to hand-letter a poster. I made a passable imitation using Adobe Illustrator. It was great nostalgic fun, but no, I don’t want to design your logo. I'm way too busy painting. (If you need a designer, contact Victoria Brzustowicz.)

Meanwhile, I’m off to see The Zombies in Northhampton, Massachusetts this week. Colin Blunstone is approximately at the age my father was when he died after a long, pottering retirement. Blunstone’s on tour. Even old people aren’t what they used to be. 

Check out my new website

Go ahead, look at it. It will be fun.

I have needed to update my website for several years. The minion who built my last one grew up and got married. Finding a capable, willing replacement has been tough.

But here it is, and I’d appreciate your finding lots of little things for me to fix. That way, I’ll be so facile at updating it that I will never let it get out-of-date again.

After this year's auction, I'll add a page of painted buoys. Just because.

The problem with living in a household of programmers is that it’s generally easier for them to do it themselves rather than teach you. They spurn graphics-based software, and they frequently lapse  into acronyms.

I’m a retired graphic designer, and I’ve always been good with computers. But I was routinely pipped at the post, mostly by the size and complexity of the project.

If I'd had more time, I'd have included more images of painting with friends.

I can write, I can paint, and I can design, but I can't do them all simultaneously. Forget multitasking; I get hopelessly confused. Add to that years of incremental changes, and it’s more than I can handle.

For example, I have more than 3,000 painting and blog images online. They started in another blog platformed, jumped to Picasa, and have been rolled into Google+. It’s no longer simple to sort them. My links are a swaying footbridge that I barely trust.

My programmer family believes this is all the information anyone needs to design a website. Turns out they're right.

There are a few other things I need to fix. Not all the pages on this new site are scalable to all devices. And I still haven’t figured out how to make my blog feed on the home page stay neatly in a little box. But overall, it's a lot better. I hope you enjoy it.

Let me know if you’re interested in painting with me on the Schoodic Peninsula in beautiful Acadia National Park in August 2015. Click here for more information on my Maine workshops! Download a brochure here.

Kids, gather around and I’ll tell you about the Dark Age of Graphic Design

My watercolor graphic for the invitation. Yes, it dangles. It is meant to be a corner ornament.

A long time ago and far, far away I worked as a graphic designer. One of my favorite tasks was choosing paper for print jobs. AJ Laux in Lockport and, later, XPedX’s retail store on South Avenue in Rochester were two of my favorite places. Paper and envelopes, not shrink-wrapped but each kind in their own precise little cardboard coffer, are more sensual than chocolate, more gratifying than new shoes.

OK, kids, go ask your grandparents what this tool was. And think that I paid $48 for it in the 1980s. That's like $2000 today. (I saved it in case I can figure out how to use it as a depilatory.)

 A few weeks ago, an important client commissioned a watercolor-and-design project. That would be my daughter, who is being married in October. Of course I was happy; not only do I love my daughter but I particularly love multi-layered, text-based design. And I got to do a watercolor!

What a lovely time to be a designer this is! Never has software been so fluid, flawless and flexible. High speed digital printing has rendered service bureaus, separations, film, and press proofs obsolete. The technical barriers that stood between idea and realization have pretty much been eliminated. You have an inspiration; an hour later it’s uploaded and on its way. And if you don’t have any skill, you can do a pretty bang-up job just using the templates available online. (Try that with painting.)

The last project for which I was able to buy paper at XPedX.

(I am a bit wistful when I see all the wonderful hand-drawn typefaces shared so freely across the internet. As a youngster I loved typeface design, but there was no way to convert one’s own typography to anything useful. It’s almost enough to make one envy the young.)

But in the past few years there has been a less-welcome change in the graphics industry. The demise of small offset print shops has led to the corresponding demise of the small paper shops which supported them. The rise of big box office supply stores has undone small stationers. Last year XPedX closed their retail stores nationwide. One’s paper-buying options in Western New York seem to be limited to office supply stores (which specialize in copy paper) and craft stores (which specialize in scrapbooking papers). 

All off-whites are not created equal.

I spent the day today on the phone talking to paper reps to no avail—none of them were set up to have a retail customer come in and fondle their samples.

Finally, I found a throwback, a lovely woman named Cheryl who works in a paper warehouse in Buffalo. She was willing to take the time to work with me on my very small order. Quickly we ascertained that in the limited time we had, our color choices were ivory, ivory, or ivory. Luckily, the bride likes off white, and I have some accent sheets from a prior project that will dovetail quite nicely.

There are some things you just can’t order blind over the internet: sun-kissed garden tomatoes, silk lingerie, and paper you’ve never seen, touched or felt. I solved today’s problem but I don’t know what the long-term answer will be.

Join us in October, 2013 at Lakewatch Manor—which is selling out fast—or let me know if you’re interested in painting with me in 2014. Click here for more information on my Maine workshops!