Five of my early – and fairly specific – graphic design influences and their creators.

A by no means comprehensive and in no way definitive – though aspiring to an accurate chronology – list with some vague recollections of the circumstances under which I may have become aware of and/or acquired an affinity/appreciation for the work. Please, be sure to click the images for a better look.

(And you thought it was going to be more increasingly tedious stuff about copious drug consumption in my misspent youth.)

UC Berkeley School of Optometry, 1979, © David Lance Goines.1. David Lance Goines, ca. 1975. Growing up in Berkeley, CA in the 70’s his work seemed unavoidable. I’m under the impression that it was his somewhat symbiotic relationship with the renowned Berkeley restaurant, Chez Panisse, that gave him the early exposure I seem to remember, but I’m not sure. However, what I am reasonably certain of is that Goines was the earliest influence on my nascent graphic design aesthetic that I could put a name to. And the reason I’m certain is because, at some point, my Mom acquired a print of the poster at left and I can recall being completely and totally enthralled not only by the cleverness of the design, but by his distinct stacked signature.

The Face, No. 55, February 19852. Neville Brody, ca. 1985. Two words: The Face. I was between universities and working for my stepfather’s then business endeavor, a professional beauty supply company, as the immodestly self-titled Creative Director of its monthly newsletter when I was first exposed to this British style, culture and music pub. An aspiring young mohawked art punk at that point, the music, fashion, culture and design artfully packed in to those early pages of The Face under the guidance of Art Director/typographer, Brody (a formidable talent then and now), was a highly intoxicating creative stimulant for a young design and culture junky. The most significant effect that early exposure to Brody’s work has had on me was the deep and lasting appreciation for expertly crafted – and implemented – type. While later Face ADs continued to do stunning and progressive work in its pages after Brody’s departure, his mark was felt (by me at least) until it’s last run in 2004. R.I.P. (Or, is that “Rrrrip.”?)

Cocteau Twins, Treasure, 4AD, 1984TMC, It’ll End In Tears, 4AD, 19843. Vaughn Oliver (23 Envelope), ca. 1985. Released late in 1984 by the independent British label 4AD, the Cocteau Twins’ Treasure and This Mortal Coil’s It’ll End In Tears together had a profound impact on me not only as stunning horizon-widening new music but as stunning horizon-widening visual artifacts that exposed me to one of my most enduring influences, Vaughn Oliver and 23 Envelope (now v23). Oliver (along with partner, the equally astonishing photographer Nigel Grierson) distilled the very essence of the artists’ melancholic and ethereal music into typography and imagery of the utmost sophistication that immediately became for me an inextricable part of the whole.

Age of Chance, Kiss 12”, FON/Virgin 19864. The Designers Republic, ca. 1986. While it may not have been the first album I bought for the sleeve, it was quite possibly the most aggressive in its demand that I do. I distinctly remember being brought to a screeching halt at a record bin by the artwork for Age of Chance’s Kiss 12”, their “mutant metallic” take on the Prince song. (The serendipitously ironic thing about the linked video is that the audio, due to licensing issues, has been disabled by YouTube – but you do still get to see tDR’s influence on the vid.) I don’t even know if I was familiar with the group or the song beforehand, but I do remember going home and and pouring over every detail of the cover again and again while listening to the track over and over. It may seem almost quaint now, but at the time, that sleeve by mitDR was like nothing I’d seen before. A sort of yang to 23 Envelope’s yin influence, it was the perfect storm of graphic design for me, type, color, composition, and attitude. (Founder Ian Anderson briefly folded tDR earlier this year only to resurrect a new tDR from the ashes of the old. So, I hope he managed to R.I.P. while he had some downtime.)

Emigre 11, 19895. Emigre (Rudy VanderLans, Zuzana Licko), ca. 1989. I was a student in the University of Washington Graphic Design program living on “the Ave” in Seattle. By this time I had (d)evolved from a mohawked arty teen punk into a dreadlocked arty punkish/gothesque/proto-grunge amalgam when Art Director, Rudy VanderLans’ and his wife, type designer, Zuzana Licko’s edgy and esoteric (to me, then) large format graphic design magazine kinda blew my mind. If I wasn’t sure I wanted to design before finding Emigre, I was sure I had to after. While there were a few issues that preceded it that had begun to readjust my sense of up and down and right an wrong, it was Issue 11 with its topic, “Graphic Designers and the Macintosh Computer”, that really made me think more critically than I had before about what I was doing – and, maybe somewhat obviously, how I was doing it. (Though they continue to offer fonts, and merchandise – including back issues as available– the magazine is no longer published. So, sort of a half-R.I.P.) (Also worth noting, 4AD, its artists and Oliver were an early feature in iss 9 and tDR guest edited iss 29.)