In 2022, we began this series with a discussion of the early underpinnings of fetal imagery, John and Barbara Willke (boosted by the moral majority) and their visual pro-life campaign, and later, the use of imagery by Ms Magazine in displaying the horrors of what outlawing abortion can do to women. These visual symbols set the stage for today’s rhetorical battles, where language—laden with fear and control—serves the same end.

In an Orwellian world, politics is where language goes to die. Political rhetoric faces the danger of being reduced to something ornamental; a shiny and hollow stand-in without substance. George Orwell was critical, but he was not a pure cynic. In his treatise, Politics and the English Language, he also lays out a set of rules for avoiding this trap. These include: no stale metaphors or jargon, short and precise words, and fresh speech—all admirable goals to aspire to, president or not. Orwell’s last rule for politicians, and I don’t use this term lightly, trumps the rest: “Break any of these rules sooner than say anything outright barbarous.” 

What Orwell was rallying against was not mere political correctness and overly complex words but rather language that conceals meaning, and its darker consequence: the corruption of thought. In this series, we’ve looked at symbols that act as shorthand for thought; images that short-circuit the reflective mind in favor of primal emotion. Today, we’ll look at how language does the same, and how it will continue to shape abortion rights in America.  

Trump uses language in a manner unheard from most politicians. His supporters applaud his apparent lack of pretension. He says what comes to mind. He digresses and repeats. He is long-winded and conversational, but not abstract and certainly not politically correct. His mood shifts as often does a teenage girl’s; he declares his contradictions with confidence and screams absolutisms into the all-consuming cybersphere. His opinions are often simply stated with elementary grammatical structures and vocabulary, i.e. “I love women,” never mind that the opinions themselves are difficult to follow, sometimes changing several times over the course of a few days, and aren’t followed by specific policies. He says his presidency will be “great for women.” In what way has a post-Roe America possibly been great for women? There’s no time to follow up because our drunk uncle has wandered off to grope the women he loves so much or ridicule “Tampon Tim.” 

But I won’t deny that he has captivated the world, fans and critics alike, for one reason: he demands attention because of the sheer peculiarity of his speech. It may be idiotic, but it is new. As evidenced by the election results, it is concrete, simplistic, and for half of America, freeing. Because people do think ugly thoughts, and if they want permission to let their misogynistic desire for control run wild, who better to validate them than the President? If they want to project their thoughts onto a President, who better than someone who changes their mind on a whim without consideration for the consequences? 

At a rally last year in Green Bay, Wisconsin, dressed in a neon orange vest, Trump expanded on his latest talking point. “I’ll protect them,” he said, “whether the women like it or not.” The crowds behind him cheered as they held up Trump Force 47 signs. This kind of speech around women is new; as Trump won over the voters he lost after the Dobbs decision in the summer of 2022 that inspired this series. Trump was initially proud of his hand in revoking Roe, and may still be though it’s difficult to tell where his true intentions lie. 

At the time, he called himself “the most pro-life president ever.” But since then, the shifting political climate around abortion, particularly amongst Republican women, has been well-documented. Non-religious Republican women are favoring abortion more than they ever have in the past, and religious women (in particular, evangelical) seem to be ambivalent now that abortion bans have been implemented in many states. While the procedure became politicized in the 1960s, it’s in recent years that we’ve seen Republicans diverge, primarily on the lines of sex and religion

And so, Trump slammed the breaks. He wavered on the Florida abortion ban, first supporting it, and then calling it too extreme. He has evaded questions on whether he would support a national abortion ban and during a town hall for female voters, called himself “the father of IVF,” presupposing that he gave birth to the idea. (That would actually be Dr. Patrick Steptoe and Sir Robert Edwards, the latter of whom won the Nobel Prize.) He repeated this phrase at a rally in Nebraska. His language leans eerily on that of family, isolationism, and control, and yet because of his casual, meandering style, it’s difficult for many to see. 

Linguist and cognitive scientist George Lakoff has written about how family models influence political discourse. He looks at what differentiates the way liberals and conservatives think and proposes the Strict Father model as an example aligned with the latter. In this model, moral righteousness justifies authority and discipline. The head of the family protects them from the dangers that lurk outside, as father knows best. In using the language of the family, Trump solidifies this idea in the minds of conservative voters.  

Linguists, psychologists, and political commentators have spent (billions of) hours and (billions of) words dissecting the speech patterns of Trump: Is he bored? Is he delusional? Is he experiencing cognitive decline? Is he smart? Is he a narcissist? 

As much as his linguist gymnastics result in pure confusion, they also allow voters to project their own ideas onto him. He could mean anything, and thus, for the average conservative or moderate voter, he means everything. Trump is the very definition of Orwell’s Big Brother or Lakoff’s Strict Father under the guise of an unrehearsed, no-bullshitter, in the eyes of his supporters. He throws around words like they mean nothing. For a country tiring of authority, this authoritarian—the very type of person they should abhor—has ironically, and smartly, taken advantage of the English language to make-believe, and as president, he’ll do whatever he wants with it.  

As will pro-life supporters, buoyed by his flip-flopping speech. Since the onslaught of state-based abortion restrictions post-Dobbs, the use of abortion medication has increased significantly. The latest data shows that now 60% of all abortions in the United States use this method. Last May, Louisiana successfully reclassified mifepristone and misoprostol, two key ingredients in medication abortions that have been FDA-approved since 2000, as “controlled dangerous substances.” Texas, Idaho, Kansas, and Missouri, are following suit. 

Fear-mongering through legal references to “abortion trafficking” and the “recruitment of minors” shifts public perception and diminishes the likelihood that doctors and pharmacists will prescribe abortion medication. It likens the pills to addictive narcotics. And as in the War on Drugs, this language invokes the same misogynistic, racist, and xenophobic views. American Life League makes the connection explicit, declaring that the “abortion pill cartel is alive and well.” 

Trump has, unsurprisingly, gone both ways. In response to whether he would direct the FDA to revoke access to mifepristone, Trump said, “Sure, you could do things that would supplement. Absolutely.” Although he later told Time Magazine an abortion pill ban would be highly unlikely, his pick of FDA head, Marty Makary, isn’t exactly reassuring. Makary has vocalized his opposition to abortion.

“Here I am,” declared Trump during his inauguration on Monday. Here we are, at the start of his second presidential term. There has been much predicted about the four years ahead of us. Some of the policy changes we may see happen in the first week. Over the course of these years, his speech will land upon the willing ears of those desperate to declare right from wrong, take control, and think in terms of binaries. 

Views are cyclical. We progress, and occasionally regress, though not all the way. As the next four years unfold, look for the signals amongst the Orwellian noise. And who knows? The next president is sure to surprise us.

Divya Mehra is a writer and artist. She teaches at NYU and Parsons and is currently at work on a novel.

Header image by the author.

Read The Semiotics of a Movement series:

Introducing a Visual Exploration of Reproductive Rights

Fetal Imagery and the Lure of the Unseen

How “Pro-Life” Became a Marketing Campaign

Picturing Life and Death: How Gerri Santoro Became a Symbol of Public Outrage

The post The Language of Abortion in Trump’s America appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

India’s underground queer magazines transformed resistance into an art form, quietly asserting a truth long buried yet unbreakable. These publications, birthed from necessity and defiance, speak not only to the LGBTQ+ community but also to India’s shifting identity and visual culture. They are a testament to the fact that India’s relationship with LGBTQ+ identities is far more nuanced than the image of homophobia typically associated with it.

Despite the false narratives portrayed by the Modi government and modern-day stigmas, historical Indian art and texts tell a different story. Temple carvings, cultural traditions, and even ancient manuscripts reflect an acceptance, even celebration, of queer identities. However, British colonialism imposed a rigid Victorian morality on Indian society, codified by Section 377 of the Indian Penal Code, which criminalized same-sex relationships. This colonial-era law fueled taboos that persist today. In the face of this repression, the early 2000s saw the quiet emergence of underground queer magazines. These publications represented both a rejection of colonial influence and a reassertion of India’s original diversity in sexual and gender expression.

India’s underground queer magazines were revolutionary despite their limited reach. Publications such as Samraat, Astitva, and Gay Bombay bypassed societal norms with a subversive and careful design. Inspired by India’s rich cultural heritage, such as the intricate, erotic carvings of the Khajuraho temples, these zines celebrated queerness through subtle but unmistakable references. The groundbreaking Bombay Dost — India’s first registered LGBTQ+ magazine founded by Ashok Row Kavi in 1990, emerged as an icon. Originally circulated discreetly, wrapped in brown paper, and distributed by word of mouth, the magazine provided a sanctuary—offering a candid space for discussing taboo topics like sex and romance. Over time, Bombay Dost built an essential network for queer expression in India, and its commercialization helped expand its reach, eventually becoming available in bookstores and online and more openly reaching upper-class audiences who sought connection.

Resiliency through graphic design in these magazines became an act of quiet rebellion and necessary caution. Each creative decision had to consider not only the readers but also the potential scrutiny from outsiders. Design choices thus served as tools for both subtle visibility and self-protection.

Left: Masala Mix Double Issue Cover, Bombay Dost Volume 5, No 2 & 3 (1996); Right: A Poster of Maddox’’s Solo Drag Performance

Coded Imagery

Visuals in these magazines became their own language. Illustrations employed symbolic imagery, like intertwined hands or muted rainbows, to convey queerness without explicitly stating it. Coded visuals were not a mere aesthetic choice; they allowed creators to sidestep censorship and to reach readers on a deeper, resonant level.

Typography as Resistance

The type choices were not neutral. Often bold and unconventional, the chosen fonts captured a sense of urgency, rebellion, or empowerment. The typography became a statement, challenging traditional design norms and capturing the daring spirit of the movement it represented.

Monochromatic Aesthetics

Due to budget constraints and limited access to color printing, many publications relied on monochromatic designs, often black and white. The starkness of the magazines’ visuals added a layer of underground, grassroots nature.

Left: Akshay Khanna’ ’s Opinion on Homosexuality, Bombay Dost cover, Volume 4 No 1 (1995); Right: Bollywood actors offering their opinions on homosexuality, Bombay Dost, Vol 5 No 2 & 3 (1996)

The impact of Bombay Dost stretched far beyond Indian borders. Row Kavi, the editor-in-chief of the magazine, recounts receiving letters from readers across Afghanistan, Dubai, and Iran, evidence of a hunger for connection that transcended national and cultural boundaries. Letters flooded into the magazine’s Khush Khat (Happy Letters) section from around the world, including neighboring Pakistan and various Central Asian republics, each voice resonating with the shared human desire for recognition and support.

These magazines contributed significantly to India’s design and cultural landscape. They were more than community bulletins; they became sites of experimentation where new typographic styles, symbolic color schemes, and innovative visual metaphors flourished and paved the way for new forms of self-expression that continue to influence contemporary designers and artists. Although the magazines are no longer in business, the legacy of these underground publications lives on. Today, the medium has largely transitioned to digital, but the message and impact remain potent, representing a significant chapter in both LGBTQ+ activism and Indian visual culture.

Jyothi Hiremath is a New York-based architect with a background in design writing, editorial, and communications. Currently pursuing a master’s in design research at the School of Visual Arts, she has nearly two years of experience at Epistle, South Asia’s leading consultancy for architecture, design, and product communications. Jyothi’s passions blend design research, trend analysis, human behavior, social impact, and storytelling.

The post Underground Ink: A Short History of India’s Queer Magazines appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

In the face of utter devastation, a heartening silver lining has been the outpouring of people doing their part to support those who have lost so much. Pasadena native Barkev is one of these Angelenos, who has used his product line through his brand Merch Motel as a platform to raise funds. Barkev launched Merch Motel as a means of paying homage to and preserving historic signage and architecture in and around Los Angeles through pins, key chains, magnets, apparel, and more. I’ve been a fan of his work for years and was not surprised to see he had designed a collection of Altadena products as a way of giving back to a community decimated by the Eaton fire.

Read on to learn more about Barkev’s personal connection to Altadena, and how he’s helping a community in crisis. (Interview lighted edited for length and clarity).

As a retro-LA enthusiast, I would imagine that the loss and devastation across the city caused by the wildfires is particularly painful for you. Can you share any reflections on what it’s been like processing this tragedy?

It was very difficult to process the destruction of thousands of structures caused by the wildfires. Practically overnight, we lost so much of our heritage and culture. The impact was felt by people from all walks of life, permanently changing the neighborhoods we cherish. It was devastating to know that historic properties were being destroyed one after another; it felt never-ending. Family homes, community traditions, legacy businesses, and historic architecture all disappeared in the blink of an eye.

Family homes, community traditions, legacy businesses and historic architecture all disappeared in the blink of an eye. 

I’ve always been an advocate for preservation, from the smallest details to the largest buildings. Altadena was filled with incredible historic sites, it was nice to know that so many properties were landmarked, ensuring they wouldn’t be at risk of alteration or demolition. Altadena respects its heritage, and I appreciate that so much. 

What’s your own personal relationship with Altadena?

I grew up in Pasadena, it’s right next door to Altadena. I often visit Altadena to see friends and family who live and work there. I grew up going to school in Altadena and admiring their Christmas displays. Altadena feels like an extension of my home.

What makes Altadena so special? What’s your favorite part about the neighborhood/community?

The neighborhoods in Altadena are one-of-a-kind, rich with history and architecture. I’ve spent hours driving around just to appreciate its beauty. The structures in Altadena are a level of craftsmanship that can’t really be replicated today. The old homes blend in with the natural landscape filled with tall old trees; the people and animals live in harmony.

How would you describe the Altadena aesthetic and what makes it so compelling?

It’s hard to describe how Altadena makes you feel. Walking through the neighborhoods felt like stepping into a fairytale. It’s a dreamy place to be. 

Can you share more about Merch Motel’s fundraiser to raise funds for those affected by the Eaton Fire and the Sahag Mesrob school? How did you decide on the designs you created for those collections?

While hearing about (and seeing) so many properties destroyed, I dedicated some time to research to then showcase these sites online. I felt it was important to respect and honor these places that we lost. I showcased contemporary and vintage photographs along with information about the history of these properties. I also shared photos I took in Altadena from the last few years; I always try to document the places I admire. 

Through Merch Motel, I document historic sites and collaborate with businesses, organizations, museums, and non-profits to create products honoring their legacy. I knew I wanted to do something special for Altadena, so I worked on a collection of products to help raise funds. The collection is inspired by the feeling of Altadena, a charming world that’s hidden within Los Angeles. Some of the designs incorporate archival material; it’s an homage to this beautiful place.

100% of the profits will be donated to those affected by the Eaton Fire.

Why is the Sahag Mesrob school specifically so near and dear to you? 

I actually attended Sahag Mesrob as a kid. I have always been fascinated by this campus. Always! In 2022, I reached out to the school and asked if I could tour the campus and document its architectural details. I am so grateful they allowed me to do this. I couldn’t believe how many original details were still intact.

The building was originally a home, built in the 1910s. Isn’t that so fascinating? An old mansion converted into a school! I absolutely loved it. It was also surrounded by several historic homes and beautiful trees, creating such a special environment and community. I never imagined it would all be gone. 

It’s important to support and appreciate all that we have, while we still have it!

Can you share any other ways people can show their support for historic LA right now?
I always recommend visiting historic sites, businesses, restaurants, and museums when you can. I have digital maps available on my website that highlight some of these places. These are the places that make our cities so unique and beautiful. It’s what gives it its culture and character. It’s important to support and appreciate all that we have, while we still have it!

The post Merch Motel Launches Altadena Collection with Proceeds Going to Those Affected by the Fires appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

Matt van Leeuwen is a graphic designer in New York with a love for typography and a keen eye for color, his work spans a 20-year career of making bold and iconic work in New York and The Netherlands. He and I recently found ourselves in an animated discussion about the color red—its influence, its meaning, its everywhere-ness.

Try naming ten blue or yellow brands off the top of your head. It’s not as easy as it is with red.

Matt van Leeuwen

The color red is ubiquitous in the world of brands. “Consider this: Ferrari and Coca-Cola. Louboutin and McDonald’s. Prada and Heinz. Red moves seamlessly between luxury and accessibility. It’s a color that brands across the spectrum trust to make an impact,” says van Leeuwen. Countless others appear across all industries: Adobe, Netflix, Target, Lego, UniQlo, Marvel, Levi’s, YouTube, Pinterest, and RedNote (a newcomer hoping to welcome people migrating from TikTok). Somewhere between 20% to 30% of Interbrand’s Best Global Brands incorporate red into their identities. “Try naming ten blue or yellow brands off the top of your head,” van Leeuwen continues. “It’s not as easy as it is with red.”

This ubiquity isn’t accidental. Red commands attention like no other color. Thanks to its long wavelength, it’s one of the most visible hues on the spectrum, second only to yellow. So, it makes an obvious choice for brands wanting to cut through the visual noise of our consumerist lives. That visibility is also why stop signs, fire trucks, and sirens are red. It’s a color designed to make you stop, look, and pay attention. This visibility extends beyond physical warnings. In language, red is used to convey caution and danger: being “in the red” signals financial trouble, and a “red flag” warns of impending issues. Red is fire, blood, and in some cases, poison. It taps into primal instincts, evoking both fear and urgency.

Red’s dominance is rooted in both history and human psychology. Anthropologists Russell Hill and Robert Barton’s 2005 research suggests that, across nature, red is tied to aggression, dominance, and heightened testosterone levels. In the animal kingdom, flushed skin and vibrant red displays signal readiness to fight or mate. Applied to humans, wearing red can subconsciously prime individuals to feel more aggressive and dominant, making it a natural choice for sports teams—and political movements. The red MAGA cap wasn’t just a branding choice; it was a psychological trigger. Imagine that cap in blue—it simply wouldn’t have had the same impact.

This cultural duality underscores red’s remarkable versatility as a symbol, capable of embodying both hope and hostility depending on context.

“Historically, red has been the color of revolution. During the French Revolution, red caps and flags symbolized popular revolt. In 1917, the Russian Revolution solidified red as the color of socialism and communism. For Americans during the Cold War, red wasn’t just a color—it was the enemy,” he says, continuing, “The term ‘Red Scare’ captured the nation’s fear of social ideologies. Maps painted the Soviet Union red, embedding the color deeply into the national psyche as a symbol of danger. Yet today, that symbolism has flipped. Red now symbolizes Republican, and Trump has taken it a step further, commandeering the color red to brand his own movement.”

This shift isn’t just political; it’s profoundly visual. In design history, red was beloved by early 20th-century modernists like Kandinsky, Lissitzky, and Malevich for its bold, disruptive energy. Kandinsky even reserved the central square of his three elementary shapes for red, acknowledging its commanding presence. Red has always been the color of change, of defiance. It’s no wonder it has become the face of modern populism.

But it’s important to recognize that red carries a different significance and meaning in other cultures. In Eastern cultures, red is a symbol of luck, joy, and prosperity. It adorns wedding dresses, envelopes gifted during the Lunar New Year, and temple decorations. It represents vitality and celebration—a stark contrast to the West, where red often signals danger, aggression, or defiance. This cultural duality underscores red’s remarkable versatility as a symbol, capable of embodying both hope and hostility depending on context.

“Western association of political red with Republicans is a relatively recent development. It wasn’t always this way,” says van Leeuwen. “In 1976, NBC’s John Chancellor introduced the first color-coded electoral map, lighting up Democratic states in red and Republican ones in blue. It wasn’t until the chaotic 2000 election that networks standardized red for Republicans and blue for Democrats, etching this visual language into the political landscape. Before that, the colors were interchangeable.”

Populist politics demand a populist color, and red delivers.

As we watch this new wave of red rise, we wonder whether we’re witnessing branding at its most elemental. Trump’s campaign, wrapped in red, taps into centuries of symbolism—revolution, power, defiance. Like the biggest global brands, it’s designed to provoke and polarize, to be both loved and hated. Populist politics demand a populist color, and red delivers.

The question now is how we respond. Will brands pivot away from red to avoid unintended associations? Or will they double down, embracing its boldness despite its political baggage? Perhaps, like every revolution, this one will force us to rethink our symbols.

In design, as in politics, every color choice carries weight. But red? Red carries history, emotion, and power. It remains the ultimate provocateur—bold, commanding, and impossible to ignore.

And that’s why red will always matter.

The post Red: The Color of Power, Passion, and Populism appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

“For whatever reason, I can’t explain it, my hands want to make tiny sweaters,” Steiner recently told Darren Scala in an interview on his YouTube channel, D. Thomas Miniatures. “My hands want to make tiny sweaters, that’s all there is to it.”

Instead of denying her passion, Steiner has embraced this urge, using sewing needles and thread to make doll-sized knitted items. The moment I came upon her work, I simply had to learn more about her path to small-scale stitching and her ethos around handcraft and miniatures at large (no pun intended). Her responses to my questions are below, edited lightly for clarity and length.

So, miniature knitting! How did you first get involved in such a niche art form? 

I’ve enjoyed knitting for many years, but it’s only since “shrinking” it that I’ve realized how long I’ve wanted to do it in miniature. A friend reminded me that I made her small sweaters as Christmas ornaments, years ago, and recently I also uncovered some pictures I had saved back in 2007 (and since completely forgotten) of some miniature knitting someone had shared online. So it’s always captivated my attention, but I didn’t get into it seriously until the pandemic when I started building dollhouses and allowed myself to freely experiment with all things miniature.

Was there a certain miniature sweater you knitted that served as a sort of a-ha! moment in terms of your practice? 

My “ah-ha moment” happened with thread rather than a particular sweater design, but yes, the first sweater I made with that thread is the one I treasure as “the moment it all clicked.”  

With this thread, I felt fluent, like I could make anything I wanted.

I was practicing knitting as small as I could, and it was okay, but not great. I was trying out all the threads that are commonly available, which are mostly mercerized, rather slippery commercial threads. But then I found a different thread, a small-batch artisanal hand-dyed cotton indigo thread from Japan, and suddenly in that thread it was like something came together, it felt like all my effort was unlocked. With this thread, I felt fluent, like I could make anything I wanted.

From that point on, I couldn’t stop, each project led directly into the next one—and I also knew better how to look at all threads differently, because once I had experienced that fluency, I knew what to look for in my materials. I still use a lot of different kinds of thread from Japan; Japanese culture has a different approach to textiles and handcrafting, and the materials reflect that.

I have somewhat of a fascination with miniatures myself, and I know I’m far from alone in that. I’ve covered other miniatures artists such as Tatsuya Tanaka, Kieran Wright, Danielle McGurran, and Jane Housham, but miniature knitting is new to me. What is it about the world of miniatures that you think draws people in?

That’s such a great list! I’ll tell you, we’re not alone in this. I recently taught a class on miniatures in art history, and it’s so much fun to see that artists through all periods of history and all around the world, from so many disparate cultures, have had similar practices of taking objects common in their world and shrinking them to small scale. From ancient Egyptian tomb models to tiny early Roman glass vessels, Japanese netsuke carving, or pre-Colombian Mexican miniatures, it seems like a core creative instinct to make things tiny when we can. It really subverts our experience of the world. I think it’s in part because it alters, for a moment, our own experience of our human-sized bodies; a tiny thing makes us feel gargantuan in comparison, just as enormous things (the Grand Canyon, or big experiential artwork we can immerse ourselves in, like Kusama’s Infinity Rooms) make us feel small. Miniatures change our physical experience of ourselves, and that is irresistible.

Miniatures change our physical experience of ourselves, and that is irresistible.

I get such a laugh out of this factor with my sweaters. I like to hand a sweater to people rather than just talk about them because invariably what people want is to put their fingers inside them, like a puppet. People of all ages, from children on up, everyone wants this. They always want to try to “wear” the sweater on the only body part that will fit. Many ask, “May I?” and I always say “yes” because it thrills me how similar we all are, and makes me marvel at how powerful this response is that these little scraps of knitting provoke in people. People are simply compelled.

I watched your interview on D. Thomas MiniVersity, in which you talk broadly about a love of handcraft. Can you elaborate on what it is about handcraft specifically that you love so much?

Handcrafted objects hold human connections. They’re so warm and rich in comparison to manufactured products. They have soul. As an example, I love handmade pottery, and most of my mugs are handmade, many of them by people I know personally. Whenever I drink coffee or tea, I picture those individuals, I name them when choosing the mug from the shelf, and I put my hands directly where their hands were when they formed the piece on the wheel, and it feels so grounding and connective; they made something useful to me, something incorporated into my daily life for years afterward, and it makes my life feel stitched into a larger community, in both literal and figurative ways. 

Creative minds, by definition, are thriving, so living with handmade craft is reveling in the output of other people’s best selves, their strongest, most healthy, flourishing, creative energy.

I love to put on mittens made personally for me, stitch by stitch, or earrings that are one-of-a-kind and there’s some story behind them, or to touch the handmade quilt from someone long gone. Living with handcrafts feels like being surrounded by other people’s care and appreciation. And creativity is healthy! Creative minds, by definition, are thriving, so living with handmade craft is reveling in the output of other people’s best selves, their strongest, most healthy, flourishing, creative energy.

In that same interview, you say, “I’m eager to learn and I’m eager to share it. An artist once told me, ‘Share everything that you know because with more information we all do better and advance things further forward,’ and I really believe in that ethos.” What has the teaching side of miniature knitting brought to you as an artist?

I find teaching incredibly gratifying, for several reasons. One, I get so much enjoyment from knitting, it’s like sharing light, when you see it bring more light and enjoyment to someone else. It also connects me with like-minded people who care about things I care about.

I get so much enjoyment from knitting, it’s like sharing light, when you see it bring more light and enjoyment to someone else.

But also, I admit I often feel creatively “behind,” like I got started too late, or I work too slowly, or my hands can’t possibly keep up with all the ideas in my mind. Hand knitting is a slow process, especially in mini, it doesn’t “scale” and can’t be sped up, every single stitch takes the time that it takes, and my personal creative “to do list” is so long, it can at times feel really overwhelming. That’s my personal artistic anxiety. My worry is that I can’t make things fast enough; I’m never going to achieve all the things I aspire to. But whenever I can teach someone else to knit or crochet, it calms that anxiety, because even though that person is not likely to help me knit my specific ideas or my own personal project list, I find it comforting to know that they’re going to knit something, something wonderful of their own, and even if I can never finish all the projects I want to make, if I convert a few more people to the craft, then illogical as it probably is, I believe we’ll collectively all be able to make “enough,” whatever that means.

Can you share more about your experience as an IGMA artisan? What’s that community like, and how have you been involved?

I have so loved my experience with IGMA. It’s a community of people ultimately brought together by a common love of learning, and I can’t think of a better connection with others than that. 

I got involved initially because, through social media, I saw the projects people were making at Guild School, in Castine, Maine, and I realized I was jealous of them. Jealousy is an ugly emotion and I try to listen to it whenever it raises its head; it’s trying to tell us something, so I admitted to myself that, yes, I wanted what they were having. 

So I invested in that part of myself that was capable of that jealousy, and I went to Guild School. That was in 2023, and it was like knitting with that indigo cotton thread all over again— once I experienced it, it felt intuitively right and I wanted more. I applied for the designation of “Artisan” with the guild that fall (and was accepted). I took my husband with me back to Castine in 2024, and plan on going again this year. Now I’m hopeful I’ll be able to teach in the future, too. 

How do you decide on which existing sweaters you see out in the world that you want to replicate in a miniature version? What makes a sweater compelling to you in that way?

Right now, I’m working on a series, “iconic knits in miniature,” and for that, I’m looking specifically for pieces of knitting that tell broader cultural stories. I’m making miniature patterns of items from pop culture, film, and fashion history—many of them are popularly recognizable like the Princess Diana “Black Sheep Sweater” or the Pendleton sweater that The Dude character wears in the movie The Big Lebowski, or the striped socks the Wicked Witch of the East is wearing when the house falls on her in The Wizard of Oz.

I’m trying to pay homage to the way that a mundane, simple thing like a sweater can contain broader social and cultural meaning.

But I also look for knitting that is historically significant to the history of textile arts, like the tromp l’oeil “Bow Knot Sweater” that Elsa Schiaparelli designed. I’m working on some socks now that are based on the oldest scraps of knitting found by archaeologists in Egypt. I’m trying to pay homage to the way that a mundane, simple thing like a sweater can contain broader social and cultural meaning.

What are some of your miniature knits that you’re proudest of and why? 

Two easy favorites: the Elsa Schiaparelli “Bow Knot Sweater,” because I’ve always loved that design, and though it’s been knocked off many times over the last hundred years, the original is made with an interesting technique, Armenian colorwork. The designer had to bring in Armenian knitters to teach her studio knitters how to do it this way, and it changes the resulting fabric (with bits of black thread appearing in the white areas and bits of white appearing in the black, a heathered effect.) So I had to shrink down not only the design, but also that technique, and I’m proud of doing that.

I’d say that overall, my biggest goal is to make the knitwear in miniature that I myself would most like to wear if I were 5.5 inches tall— comfortable, well-fitted, and fully functional in spite of the small size. This is the same standard I apply to my miniatures, and if I were magically shrunk down, the bow-knot sweater is the first sweater I would reach for.

My other favorite is the Princess Diana sweater, designed by Sally Muir and Joanna Osborne because it’s a fun design. The first draft made me giggle the whole way through because the sheep are funny, it felt wonderful to make it, and I knew that people would recognize it. But I still wasn’t prepared for how deeply it resonated with the public: my miniature version now belongs to the KSB Miniatures Collection in Kentucky, in the Spencer house, the dollhouse recreation of the childhood home of Lady Diana Spencer.

Handcrafted work, fashion, and miniatures all create such powerful connections, and I love working at the intersection of these things.

What I love most is hearing other people’s stories of recognition and connection with the sweater. I had my own association with Princess Diana wearing that sweater back in the 1980s, but I didn’t realize how many other people had strong feelings about it. That sweater being published and publicly accessible has given me access to all those stories in return, and I love how far that resonates. That’s the core of the “iconic knits” project: that a tiny sweater can spark so much feeling and remembrance. It always comes back to connections and that feeling of connectedness with a larger world. Handcrafted work, fashion, and miniatures all create such powerful connections, and I love working at the intersection of these things.

The post Miniature Knitter Julie Steiner Reimagines Iconic Sweaters in Itty Bitty Form appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

“In a nutshell, our business started because we wanted to create the Blackest antiques store ever.”

Jannah Handy and Kiyanna Stewart’s love story is inextricably intertwined with the origin of their Brooklyn antique shop, Blk Mkt Vintage. The couple met while working on a college campus in the Student Affairs department, as a side hustle in vintage sourcing developed and bonded them together. In time, Blk Mkt Vintage was born, largely in response to filling a void. The pair saw a need for preserving and making accessible vintage objects that tell Black stories, so they began doing that passion-filled work. Now, just over a decade since the founding of Blk Mkt Vintage, they’ve published a book of the same name to document and share their mission even further.

The book’s introduction illustrates the couple’s side hustle turned passion:

“This book is the physical manifestation of our love for one another and for this history… We’ve been thinking about this book for almost a decade and knew that when the time came, we would write a book that placed us, two Black queer women from Brooklyn at the center, as a means to show how Black folks have been doing the work of archiving, collecting, and preserving for as long as we’ve existed. That our business, while doing important and fulfilling work, is the product of and response to generations of Black folks’ intimate relationship to memory work.”

Below, Handy and Stewart elaborate on their journey and drive. (Responses lightly edited for length and clarity.)

What is it about collecting and selling vintage items that excite you so much? Can you describe the feeling of finding an item that needs to come home with you?

What excites us the most is really twofold. First, for us, it’s all about the thrill of the hunt. Seeking out items that tell nuanced stories of Black history is akin to being on a treasure hunt. From Thailand to Amsterdam to Cuba, and more, no matter where we go, we are always on the hunt.

Seeking out items that tell nuanced stories of Black history is akin to being on a treasure hunt.

On the flip side, we started our business not only to collect but also to make available and accessible the items and stories we unearth. The “finding” is awesome, but the “sharing” allows our work to serve as a pebble in a pond and cause ripples that impact across wide swaths and along the time continuum.

Outside of the dopamine hit that occurs when hunting, the feeling is guttural. Sometimes there is language behind it and other times there isn’t. Having been in this industry for a decade we have come up with some questions we consider to make sure the vintage high doesn’t cloud our judgment completely:

• Have we seen the item before?
• Can we walk away from it?
• Do we need it?
• Does it serve a function?

As Black collectors, do you feel an added sense of responsibility or pressure to make sure critical elements of your heritage and culture aren’t lost? Can you share more about how your identities inform how and why you are in this industry?

We 100% feel that our work comes from a sense of duty, a sense of preservation of our collective American history. In the Introduction of the book, we tell a story about an encounter with vintage NAACP parade float signs that reinforce the fact that we save items from ending up in the landfill. 

We decided that it wasn’t up to someone else to amass the collection we wished we saw, it was up to us and Blk Mkt Vintage was born. 

Sparing the dramatics and hyperbole, we often are the last chance for items before they are discarded. This sense of duty was ingrained in us at the outset of our Blk Mkt journey 10 years ago, as we started this business out of a very personal need to be “seen,” As two Black, queer women, we rarely came across artifacts or ephemera that told our story or the stories of our ancestors who shared our identities. Digging through countless estate sales, flea markets, antique stores, and auctions, we had to tirelessly search for representation of ourselves. We decided that it wasn’t up to someone else to amass the collection we wished we saw; it was up to us and Blk Mkt Vintage was born.

What is the community of Black vintage sellers and collectors like, and how does it feel being a part of that? How does this work, in particular, bring you all together?

One aspect of the book process that was most rewarding was the opportunity to pass the mic and chop it up with our comrades in arms— fellow Black folks in the vintage industry. From collectors who have been with us since our e-commerce days on Etsy.com in 2015, to new collaborators we’ve met in our picking travels. 

The world of Black vintage is very robust and varied, a point driven home in our book in chapter X. Our conversations were not merely preaching to the choir; we were able to hear from world-renown artists who use vintage Black ephemera to inform their practice. A creator who examines the hood through the lens of mid-century architecture and design, and a collector who inherited his grandmother’s collection of 1960s Soul Publications, a Black music periodical that she started with her late husband.

There are countless points of entry in the vintage industry and just hearing how others came to the space might spark your own entry. 

Is there a particular item in your collection that most accurately represents your mission at BLK MKT Vintage, and/or why you got into this game in the first place?

Part of our weekly routine is frequenting early morning, outdoor vintage flea markets. Having been in this field for a while, we are regulars and have become friends or friendly with the other vendors and dealers who frequent the markets. One morning an older white woman, likely in her 80s, approached Jannah and said, “You buy Black stuff, right? Come to my car.” 

We’d only seen this woman at the market, never spoken or made a deal. Being that we were in public (and Jannah had a considerable size advantage), with some trepidation, Jannah followed her to her trunk and was shocked at what she saw. An original 1960s, large format photograph of Muhammad Ali (Cassisus Clay at the time of the photo) and his first wife that had noticeable singe marks around the edges. The woman explained that the photo was salvaged from the photographer’s studio that burned down. She had heard from another vendor that we buy Black antiques so she sought Jannah out. This story, photograph, and interaction all encapsulate the mission of Blk Mkt Vintage. If we were never looking, we would not have found.

Our story and approach is so much more than the physical object, it’s about the stories, the people and the serendipity that sometimes happens in a 80-year-old, white woman’s trunk! 

Our story and approach is so much more than the physical object, it’s about the stories, the people and the serendipity that sometimes happens in a 80-year-old, white woman’s trunk!

How does it feel to put a book together that encapsulates your work? What aspect of the book are you proudest of?

Even though the book has been out for three months now, it’s all still very surreal. Ten years ago, when dreaming up what our vintage hobby (at the time) could grow into, we knew a book was in the plans. We wanted to canonize or memorialize our work, approach, and community that we have engaged with for over a decade. On the most basic level, we wrote this book to be found. As pickers, we have collected, sold, and seen thousands of books in hundreds of collections. In five, 20, or 100 years in the future, we want our book to be found and explored in a completely new context.

We are proudest of this book being completed— it was no easy feat! We are proud that a dream we had 10 years ago came true through hard work, grit, and perseverance. At the end of the day, Blk Mkt Vintage is a love letter to Black people and Black history, and through this book, a lot more people can share that love.

The post Blk Mkt Vintage Documents its Mission to Preserve and Share Black History in New Book appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

Known for his graphic adaptation of W. E. B. Du Bois’s The Souls of Black Folk, Peart-Smith, working with seasoned graphic novel editor Paul Buhle, brings a visual depth to the narrative that makes this history both accessible and compelling. Through full-color artwork, complex histories are distilled into powerful, accessible imagery that invites readers of all ages to reconsider the past through the lens of those who lived through it.

The medium of comics and graphic novels creates visual opportunities for complex ideas. … I believe this is a powerful way to engage with young adults, whose worlds are shaped by visuals like never before.

In an age when visual media dominates how we process information, this graphic adaptation is an essential tool for connecting with new generations. It rekindles a crucial dialogue about what we choose to remember — and, just as importantly, what we choose to forget — acting as a bold reminder of the stories often omitted from mainstream narratives, shining a light on the centuries-long efforts to erase Indigenous identities and the equally enduring spirit of resistance.

Whether you’re a student, a historian, or simply curious about the often-overlooked truths of America’s past, this adaptation promises to be as enlightening as it is visually stunning. I found myself immersed not just in the visuals but in the urgency of its message: understanding the past is the first step toward justice. And if that journey begins with a graphic novel, then it’s a journey well worth taking.

I had the opportunity to ask Paul further questions about this important adaptation. Our conversation is below, lightly edited for length and clarity.

What unique challenges did you face in visually interpreting the complex and often harrowing history of Indigenous peoples in the United States, and how did you balance historical accuracy with the artistic storytelling in your illustrations?

I had an idea of the scale of the task, but I’m relatively new to adapting, having done only one prior historical book, so I walked into this project with a little bit of a beginner’s arrogance, or better put, naivety. One of the challenges I faced was the broad scope of the story which covers many years, indeed centuries of events. I had to define a pathway through the historical record to help me choose what I could fit into the book. There was so much I could have used, but in the end, I had to make it my interpretation of Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz’s great original work.

Given the emotional weight and significance of this history, how did you approach capturing the resilience and perseverance of Indigenous communities over four centuries?

Thank you for the question. This leads me to another challenge of the book: how to show the often violent Indigenous resistance to violent occupation and colonisation, without mythologising violence itself. Comics and graphic novels are known for their use of action to entertain, but this wasn’t that kind of book. I wanted the brutality to land hard, not to be brushed over. Having said that, I had to make sure that the book wasn’t just a tale of Indigenous woe either. There were victories, as well as massive losses. We cover how the population survived, adapted to, and sometimes assimilated within settlers’ culture. We share some of the great speeches made by Indigenous leaders of the past and present, speeches that described and rebuked, the day-to-day reality of exposure to settler influence.

How did your experience with adapting The Souls of Black Folk inform your approach to this graphic adaptation, and what did you find distinct about translating An Indigenous Peoples’ History of the United States into a visual medium?

Well, there were differences and similarities between the two projects. With The Souls of Black Folk, each chapter of the original book written by W.E.B. DuBois was a series of essays collected into one volume. Because of that, I got the opportunity to work in a different style per chapter to separate each essay. In An Indigenous Peoples’ History of the United States, each chapter had a theme, but it was a rolling history so I chose to use different styles throughout the book, unrestricted by chapter. The only rule that I set myself was that I could use whatever means I could to explain the theme to the reader. In practice that meant that some pages required panel-to-panel storytelling that read like a traditional comic, and other pages were illustrations or even infographics, whatever visual tool worked best. 

What role do you believe graphic adaptations, such as this one, play in making critical histories more accessible to wider audiences, especially younger readers?

I hope that they play a major role! The medium of comics and graphic novels creates visual opportunities for complex ideas. We’ve always accepted that in newspaper cartoons, and this historical work builds upon their example. So for adults, there should be no stigma attached to this medium. I believe this is a powerful way to engage with young adults, whose worlds are shaped by visuals like never before. Comics are a quieter medium than TV, video games, and social media, but they “shout” louder than prose from the bookshelves, and lend themselves quite well to video advertising and reviews. I’ve been very pleased with the feedback I’ve seen from YouTube reviewers for example.

Your illustrations are described as evocative and integral to sparking crucial conversations. Were there particular moments or themes in the book that felt especially important or challenging to depict visually?

There were two passages in the original book that I found challenging to depict. The first was showing on the original tribal map of America the trade routes that were cut off by colonizing troops. I wanted to get across the scale of the operation which forced starvation and social breakdown of the indigenous population. I had the map on the first tier of the page and a visualisation of the consequences of the blockades on the people themselves. I wasn’t sure that I had gotten the concept across, and I tried various graphic icons to depict the trade routes, soldiers and tribes. In the end, I went for clarity over “cleverness”, showing the different tribes and reusing the same soldier icon for consistency and to suggest the relentless nature of the colonists. 

The second passage covered the era of self-determination away from the former Western colonies which became more prevalent in the latter half of the 20th century. I wanted to broaden the scope by using examples from other countries who had freed themselves of colonial powers and, in some cases, risked the brunt of colonial backlash. I hinted at this by using the example of Patrice Lumumba, the first independent leader of Congo. If readers are interested further, they can read his story outside the book; it’s well worth the trouble. This global trend swept up and gave great encouragement to Indigenous leaders in America to push for their own self-governance within the United States. It’s difficult to illustrate such big ideas. I gave it my best shot.    

We’re super lucky to have Paul involved with the 2025 PRINT Awards. He’s one of the jury members for the Hand Lettering, Illustration, Graphic Novels, and Invitations category. The next PRINT Awards deadline is January 21st!! Learn more about submitting your work here.

The post Paul Peart-Smith Makes ‘An Indigenous Peoples’ History’ Accessible in Graphic Form appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

In this episode, hosts Brad Davidson, Sonika Garcia, and Gabriel Allen-Cummings are joined by Eirásmin Lokpez-Cobo, República Havas Health’s EVP of brand strategy, to dive into the insights from her team’s recently published white paper, Equity in Action: Mapping the Multicultural Patient Journey for Inclusive Strategies. This insightful paper sheds light on the systemic barriers and health-related behaviors that shape the experiences of diverse U.S. audiences throughout their patient journey.

This is part one of a two-part series focusing on the multicultural patient experience. The conversation starts by building a shared understanding of the barriers that prevent engagement with health systems. From there, they uncover overlooked elements of their journey, such as the unique health priorities of multicultural patients and the sources of trust they rely on. Disengagement isn’t solely rooted in mistrust, nor does the desire to achieve better health simply fade away. To truly “meet patients where they are,” we must understand where they are willing—and able—to go.

Welcome to Breaking the Code! Behavioral science is a cornerstone of modern marketing practice, but much of what passes itself off as behavioral science is just bs. Good social science gives us the insights and roadmap we need to change behavior, but bad social science just muddies the water and tarnishes the social sciences. As behavior change is a core objective of marketing, getting behavioral science right is crucial. Listen in as hosts Brad Davidson, PhD and Sonika Garcia, MPH, Medical Anthropology Strategists at Havas Health, sound off on what is, and isn’t, good social science, from a variety of disciplines covering new topics every podcast.

Learn more on LinkedIn and Spotify.

The post Understanding the Hearts and Minds of Multicultural Patients appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

Storytelling that highlights the region’s vibrancy, traditions, and people anchors the campaign. Adam Stewart, Sandals’ executive chairman, narrates the campaign film, emphasizing the brand’s intimate connection to the islands. The campaign moves beyond generic notions of all-inclusive resorts to focus on experiences that embody the soul of the Caribbean.

Wolff Olins brings a new visual identity rooted in what they’ve dubbed “Natural Vibrancy.” The refreshed look and feel integrate local influences with modern design principles, striking a balance between heritage and contemporary appeal. It’s not just about looking tropical—the look feels genuinely connected to the culture and environment of the islands.

Travelers today are looking for the authenticity that Sandals and Beaches resorts stand for, so it’s an incredible opportunity to help a family business born in the Caribbean to continue innovating from its legacy and delivering all-inclusive hospitality for the next generation of travellers.”

Brian Meyers, executive strategy director at Wolff Olins

This shift speaks to a broader trend in branding: the move toward authenticity and storytelling. Sandals isn’t just competing on luxury; it’s carving out a distinct narrative space that resonates with travelers seeking meaning in their experiences.

By placing the Caribbean front and center—visually, verbally, and experientially—Sandals takes a confident step in defining its brand not as a destination, but as an extension of the region it calls home. This is branding that feels personal, thoughtful, and perfectly timed for today’s travel audience.

“Made of Caribbean encompasses the true heart and soul of our organization,” said Adam Stewart. “We are so deeply grateful to the teams at Leo Burnett and Wolff Olins for beautifully capturing who we are at our core. My father and Sandals Resorts’ founder Gordon “Butch” Stewart, built these world class brands through celebrating the place he cherished so deeply. He believed with unwavering certainty that the Caribbean was worthy of deep exploration – and that its people, the most welcoming in the world, are a constant source of joy. His vision lives on in everything we do and it is with great pride and gratitude, that we declare to the world, we are ‘Made of Caribbean.’”

The post Wolff Olins Crafts a Brand ‘Made of Caribbean’ for Sandals Resorts appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

While some teams in other women’s professional sports leagues are upping their branding games as well—with clubs like Angel City FC and the San Diego Wave setting the bar in the NWSL— there is still ample room for growth (and investment) across the industry.

The newly launched Professional Women’s Hockey League, for example, unveiled its six inaugural franchises last September, each of whom has puzzlingly rudimentary logos and even worse wordmarks all in drastic need of some TLC.

And lest we forget the shambolic brand rollout of BOS Nation FC of the NWSL. TooManyBalls.com might be gone, but it will live on in infamy forever.

The WNBA continues to set and elevate the standard for women’s sports branding in the US, with franchises like the NY Liberty leading the charge. After diving headfirst into the mania surrounding the NY Liberty’s mascot, Ellie the Elephant, this past WNBA season, I had the pleasure of speaking directly with the Liberty’s chief brand officer, Shana Stephenson, about the brilliance of Ellie.

Since then, I’ve continued thinking about the state of branding in women’s sports, and the nuances of branding professional women’s sports teams versus their male counterparts, and once again sought out Stephenson for her expert insights. I also reached out to sports branding professional and graphic designer Britt Davis for commentary, who has worked with the likes of the WNBA, NBA, NFL, MLS, MLB, New Balance, ESPN, and collegiate teams through LCKR ROOM and B.CRTV Brands.

Stephenson and Davis’s thoughtful responses to my questions are below, lightly edited for clarity and length.

How important is the branding of a women’s sports team to their ultimate success on the court or field? One might think that only the players and their performance matter, but can you elaborate on how a franchise’s total package affects how a team plays?

SS: It’s essential to create a strong brand identity and an impactful platform to generate visibility, build a strong fan base, and connect with your players. Not only will you see the best basketball at New York Liberty games, but we are incredibly deliberate in ensuring fans will see the best fan experience as well.

The New York Liberty has been intentional in how we cultivate our fan base, and simultaneously bringing our brand identity to life through the in-arena atmosphere and experience at Barclays Center. We’ve designed our home venue to be an immersive, cultural experience, and our fans take it a step further by bringing the energy game after game, helping motivate, hype up, and create excitement for the players.

It’s no coincidence the Liberty just won our first WNBA championship in franchise history— this was always part of our long-term vision.

We’ve elevated our mascot, Ellie the Elephant, in unimaginable ways, hosted A-List celebrities and influencers from all different industries to sit courtside and perform at our games, and now we’re seeing an increase in media presence, fans, and attendance. We’re seeing everything come together so serendipitously, and it’s no coincidence that the Liberty just won our first WNBA championship in franchise history— this was always part of our long-term vision.

BD: Branding plays a pivotal role in shaping the overall experience, not just for the players, but for the fans as well. It’s the spark that fuels excitement, energy, and emotion, creating a dynamic atmosphere that resonates with both sides. This connection sets the tone for unforgettable moments that forge lasting bonds between fans and teams— bonds that solidify loyalty and passion. 

For me, these moments are the heartbeat of creative assets, from taglines to merchandise, inspiring everything fans wear and share to proudly express their unwavering support.

How do you see branding for a women’s sports franchise different from branding for a men’s franchise? What aspects are the same?

SS: The WNBA and many professional women’s sports teams and leagues are newer to the industry, leaving room to push creative boundaries and build something truly unique and authentic to the market. That growth opportunity can allow women’s sports teams to capture attention in uncrowded spaces and help brands meaningfully engage with some of the most diverse and loyal fans in sports.

One way the Liberty has pushed a creative boundary is through the team’s Xbox partnership. We created a custom gaming-inspired basketball court to celebrate the launch of one of the year’s most-anticipated video games. Our mascot Ellie is another example of how our team has pushed creative boundaries, with our fresh take on this part of a team’s branding, we’ve not only helped attract new audiences, but we’ve also created opportunities for new brand partnerships with Nike, Bumble, Lyft, and others.

WNBA players understand their role in growing the game, so they’re more accessible. They also speak out about women being undervalued and underrepresented in society overall and understand the value of using their platform to be vocal about social issues.

An aspect of branding that is the same for both women’s and men’s sports franchises is highlighting the elite athletes who are the heart of our team and the face of our league. This is something we are incredibly intentional about so that our players get the name recognition they have earned and deserve.

I’d also add that WNBA players understand their role in growing the game, so they’re more accessible. They also speak out about women being undervalued and underrepresented in society overall and understand the value of using their platform to be vocal about social issues.

BD: Having worked on both men’s and women’s sports projects, I approach them with the same level of intention and research-driven creativity. The process is fundamentally the same— understanding the team’s vision and goals and crafting a brand that speaks to the heart of the sport. 

That said, during the exploration phase, teams might highlight specific visuals or tones they want to emphasize or avoid in order to keep the focus on the game itself. I respect this direction, but I also believe there are unique ways to celebrate and elevate women’s sports beyond just the brand identity. From compelling storytelling to amplifying fan voices, there are countless ways to showcase what makes women’s sports so meaningful. As a woman working in the sports design space, I can’t help but feel an extra sense of excitement when I see the branding of women’s franchises making its way into the spotlight on my timeline.

There are unique ways to celebrate and elevate women’s sports beyond just the brand identity. From compelling storytelling to amplifying fan voices, there are countless ways to showcase what makes women’s sports so meaningful.

Which women’s sports franchises stand out to you for their successful branding? What elements of their branding set them apart and have fueled their rise to the top? 

BD: This is a tough one! The teams that truly stand out to me are the ones that deeply integrate into local culture, creating a genuine connection with their communities. Teams that tap into the nostalgia of a rich legacy and long-standing presence also leave a lasting impression. In terms of digital content and blending lifestyle-driven elements like retail, I’ve really enjoyed what teams like the Las Vegas Aces, NY Liberty, and Atlanta Dream have done. Their city-inspired branding and mascots have made them fun to follow over the past few seasons. 

I also have to give a shoutout to Team USA Women’s Soccer and Basketball— these athletes bring such incredible energy and personality, and the content surrounding them is both entertaining and empowering.

What strides have been made in women’s sports in general, and women’s sports branding specifically, since you’ve been involved in the industry? In what ways is there still room for growth?

SS: We’re in the midst of an explosion of popularity for women’s sports, which has opened new avenues of growth in the industry. In 2024, experts predicted that for the first time, women’s elite sports—like the WNBA—would generate over $1 billion in revenue, which would be a 300% increase from just three years ago in 2021.

In the WNBA specifically, the Liberty’s successful 2024 championship run was part of a WNBA playoffs which saw a 142% increase in viewership compared to 2023. And Game 5 of the WNBA Finals, when the Liberty won their first-ever championship, was the most-viewed WNBA Finals game in 25 years, with ESPN broadcast viewership peaking at 3.3 million.

A key business focus for our team over the past few years has been to increase brand visibility through broadcast viewership and unique brand partnerships. This year, the Liberty signed a broadcast deal with FOX5 in New York, bringing Liberty games to 7.5 million households across the Tri-State area, and we also launched our first direct-to-consumer streaming platform, Liberty Live, further increasing accessibility by bringing games directly to our fans.

A unique advantage of being a women-led franchise is that we are able to create new sponsorship categories and opportunities. We’ve collaborated with notable brands—many of which are new to sports and/or new to the WNBA—spanning fashion, beauty, health, and everything in between. In every partnership, we prioritize working with brands that share our core values, commitment to player benefit, and the larger narrative we are pursuing as an organization. Off-White, Hero Cosmetics, NYX Cosmetics, and RMA Network are just a few examples of some of our recent, successful partnerships.

Our strategic approach is working. The Liberty has continued to break barriers and set new records—from viewership, attendance, merchandise sales, social media engagement and more—numbers are up across all areas of the business, but there’s more to be done. We must continue the momentum and build on the foundation we’ve created in order to achieve long-term, lasting success for women’s sports overall.

Numbers are up across all areas of the business, but there’s more to be done.

BD: In recent years, it’s been exciting to see the growing coverage and visibility of women’s sports. This increased attention not only sparks greater interest in the sports themselves but also opens up more opportunities for creativity within the space. With more eyes on their teams, we’ve seen a wave of intentional outreach to creatives—especially women-owned agencies and independent creators—to help shape brand identities and retail collections. There’s also been a push to develop community programs that introduce young girls to sports, fostering deeper connections and experiences. As the space continues to evolve, I’m excited to see even more innovation around key campaign moments, like schedule releases, and how these moments further strengthen fan engagement.

The post Enter the Golden Age of Branding in Professional Women’s Sports appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

Stepping into the installation is akin to entering a metaphorical storm—a sea of dire warnings that forces onlookers to confront the brutal realities faced by refugees.

Sea-Watch, a nonprofit committed to rescuing refugees from the Mediterranean since 2015, teamed up with the creative minds at Mother Berlin to craft this installation. The choice to use warning signs as the medium feels almost too perfect. After all, what are warning signs if not everyday reminders of the dangers we’ve trained ourselves to ignore?

Each sign goes beyond the usual “Caution: Slippery When Wet” fare, instead bearing messages like “Danger: Drowning in Progress” or “Beware of Political Failure.” These words, paired with stark pictograms, pull you out of your comfort zone.

“The collaboration with Sea-Watch gave us the opportunity to raise awareness of the refugee issue in a creative and emotional way. Our goal was to convey a critical message that not only touches people but also mobilizes them and helps Sea-Watch to secure further support for their mission,” explains Amelie Schad, managing director of Mother Berlin. 

Stepping into the installation is akin to entering a metaphorical storm—a sea of dire warnings that forces onlookers to confront the brutal realities faced by refugees. Crafted from repurposed road signs, the orange color scheme evokes the “Refugee Flag,” giving the visuals a cohesive identity tied to Sea-Watch’s mission.

Stefan Wittemann, creative director at Mother Berlin, shared, “Our aim was to find an artistic language that does justice to the urgency of the topic and really shakes people awake.” And for those who aren’t in Berlin, an evocative film directed by Harun Güler captures the raw emotion of the piece.

This collaboration between Sea-Watch and Mother Berlin exemplifies how design can move beyond aesthetics to become a force for change. It’s a reminder of the power of creativity when used to amplify urgent voices and mobilize action. To heed the heavy pause that comes when we confront our own apathy and the lives at stake in the Mediterranean.

Giulia Messmer of Sea-Watch didn’t mince words: “The EU talks about peace while continuing to dig graves at Christmas. With our campaign, we are calling for an end to European ignorance and safe escape routes for everyone.”

The refugee crisis isn’t new, and it’s far from resolved. “Warning Signs” makes one thing clear: the warnings are all around us, and it’s up to us to act before it’s too late.

The post Sea-Watch and Mother Berlin Confront Apathy with a Stark Installation appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

While human society is being transformed by information technology, contemporary sewing technology is based on the same functionality as in the late 18th century, including the fundamental dependency on human dexterity and tactility.

Juliet Seger, founder of the fashion brand HUMAN TOUCH in Berlin, wrote this at the top of her dissertation for her master’s at the University of Edinburgh in 2020. Seger was studying sustainability design at the time when she first developed what would eventually become HUMAN TOUCH. “Today, and for the foreseeable future, every garment is and will involve sewing by human hands.”

With this concept at its core, HUMAN TOUCH visualizes the human labor inherent to the production of clothing. Seger and her business partner, Christina Albrecht, up-cycle everyday, quotidian clothing items, like workwear slacks and T-shirts, with their fingers covered in ink. In doing so, HUMAN TOUCH makes visible the invisible human hand behind our clothes and the fashion industry at large.

Having previously presented their line of up-cycled pieces, remedy, at last year’s Berlin Fashion Week, Seger and Albrecht are now gearing up for BFW 2025 with pop-ups on January 30 and February 2 that will feature their new collection. I was able to chat with Seger recently about all things HUMAN TOUCH, from her initial idea of paint-sewing, to the sewing performances she developed to bolster the brand’s message. Our conversation is below, edited lightly for clarity and length.

Can you walk me through the genesis of HUMAN TOUCH?

I was at The University of Edinburgh for a master’s, it was called Design for Change, which is basically a sustainability design program. The incentive was to do theoretical work but then also a design output that would match the academic research. So that was the original prompt: to think about a visual counterpart to the theoretical research I had done. The starting point in terms of the theory was that I’m a trained tailor. Before my degree, I did a three-year vocational training to become an industrial tailor. 

Especially during the pandemic, there were a lot of themes of 3D printing, everything digital, everything automated—Do we even need humans?—that kind of stuff. I read that there was an equivalent in the fashion production industry, automating the sewing processes. From a tailoring standpoint, I was curious: How does that technology actually work? I couldn’t wrap my head around it, and when I did research into what the status of the automation was, I realized that there was a lot of ideation and experimental things, but there wasn’t really anything at the production stage that was actually feasible to use, even in the next few decades.

At the same time, there are these special characteristics of the fashion industry, like the floppy material, the silhouettes that always change, the fabrics and the surfaces that always change. Also, human labor is still so much cheaper than building and implementing one big machine that will replace a larger segment. To me, that was such an a-ha! moment. It’s so specific to the fashion industry and in opposition to others. I wanted to look further into that, and then find a way to visualize this Eureka moment to other people.

The original idea was to just do one trial. But then I was interested in trying different products, and I was quite surprised by the feedback; a lot of people were quite interested. So it just didn’t stop after I finished my degree. 

After identifying these themes you wanted to convey in your work, how did the idea of sewing with ink on your hands first come to you?

It was during the pandemic when there wasn’t much going on. I was going to the park for a run with my partner, who was the only one I could talk through these things with properly. I remember the moment of being like, I wonder if there’s a way to just make that visible. I don’t know where exactly it came from, it just sparked in my head, but it was like, I wonder if I could put ink on my hands. Then, quite luckily, the first textile paint that I tried out worked marvelously. 

What kind of paint do you use?

It’s textile paint, which means that we use it primarily on natural fibers or cellulose-based fibers that we then cure afterwards, or basically heat the garment, and the paint gets fixed to the fiber. It’s like any kind of textile print you might have on a T-shirt. It’s acrylic, water-based paint. 

It took me a minute to get the guts to admit, No, this is actually what I want to do every day.

How did you first get into tailoring and sewing?

I started sewing when I was 13 or 14. I was just changing some garments I didn’t like, or I wanted a very specific Carnivals costume or Halloween costume and couldn’t find it, so I started making it. Then I came across some sewing magazines and began spending my time after school making my own stuff. I did a bit of a detour studying politics briefly after high school, but I quit that after a year to do my tailoring training; the fashion industry was the less responsible, riskier, creative industry. It took me a minute to get the guts to admit, No, this is actually what I want to do every day. So that brought me to the tailoring training, which then led me to a bachelor’s in Clothing Technology. From there, I wanted to expand a bit and do something that wasn’t just focused on fashion, and that’s why I went into the sustainable design master’s. 

That’s such a common trajectory: being a creative kid, but then feeling that when it comes to a career, you have to do something more “practical,” and then realizing you’re still that creative kid in your soul. 

I believe that if you have a passion for something, you’ll make it work; you’ll be successful in some way or the other. You’ll find a way to create a job or find a job that’s linked to what you love. I remember people saying, “Well, what are you going to do studying tailoring? Are going to be a tailor? Nobody earns money being a tailor.” But I think if you enjoy what you’re doing, it’ll automatically lead you to all kinds of good stuff.

I believe that if you have a passion for something, you’ll make it work; you’ll be successful in some way or the other.

What does the HUMAN TOUCH studio space and production setup consist of? 

We’re still quite a small team; at the core, it’s me and my business partner, Christina, and then we have some freelance tailors who work with us, and then an intern here and there, but it’s really mostly Christina and myself. We have a studio in Berlin. It’s a loft industrial building and we have one segment of one floor. 

I would call it a rather small design studio. We have all of the basic setups: a cutting table and several machines, and we do everything there. It’s important to us to keep it close to us. On the one hand, it’s difficult to outsource to factories because they don’t want their machines to get dirty. And because Christina and I are both trained tailors, we like to have this production side of it really near us. 

How did you and Christina become creative partners? 

We go way back. We’ve known each other since we were teenagers in our hometown, and we sort of lost track of each other for a few years, and then came back together here in Berlin as friends. We realized every time we hung out, we would very passionately and dramatically talk about tailoring and fashion. Then, a year ago, we proposed to each other to be business partners. By coincidence, on the same coffee date, I asked her to consult on a project, and she suggested jumping in on HUMAN TOUCH.

Can you tell me more about the live sewing/performance art aspect of HUMAN TOUCH?

The paint-sewing performances came from the idea that the process is quite striking to look at and draws people in. So it was originally a small extra I did at some pop-ups and some art and design festivals. Then, from a business perspective, it’s a way to continue to work and expand the project, beyond being so product-focused. So it’s still in this fashion world, but it’s not like we have to make and sell physical products. The performance is another way to spread this, and that was something we were interested in.

We had a couple of smaller performances and then a few bigger ones during Berlin Fashion Week in February last year, which somehow got quite a big crowd. It’s cool because we adapt it to the occasion. So we can talk to people while we’re doing it, or if we want it to be more like an actual performance we can be positioned away. It’s linked to these paint-sewing videos we’ve been doing, and a couple of those went viral. It underlines the idea that it’s quite a striking visual. 

It makes perfect sense that because the production process is so central to what you’re creating, people would want to get a peek behind the curtain. 

I think most times when people do see someone sewing they see the person, the machine, the setting, the studio, but they don’t actually look at the hands. So it offers a different perspective. 

What was the decision-making around the look and design of the HUMAN TOUCH garments? Why do you only use black ink on white, and white ink on black, for example?

We started with black and white, both fabric and paint, just because they’re the simplest; as soon as you introduce a color of paint, it automatically has a different connotation. Red, for example, comes with the symbolism of blood. So, to keep it very simple, at the moment we’re sticking with black and white. 

The starting point for the choice of styles, silhouettes, and products was to use everyday products that are everywhere around us, like a simple pair of denim jeans, a menswear shirt, or just a T-shirt. We ventured a bit into beige tones and blue jeans, again, more classic wardrobe staple items. Then, here and there, we sprinkle in special pieces that are maybe a bit more experimentally fitted, more drapey, or unusual. The idea is to keep the silhouette simple because the paint design is quite messy, so we need the product to still be legible.  

What’s next for HUMAN TOUCH?

We’re currently planning our next presentations for Berlin Fashion Week at the end of January and beginning of February. We’re planning what we want to do and at what scale, and especially what the spirit of the event should be. We’re also working on a full collection of mainline pieces that are not up-cycled but are fully made in-house. So far, we have a couple of those mainline pieces, but the items we sell are mostly up-cycled.

The post HUMAN TOUCH Makes Visible the Invisible Hands that Sew our Clothes appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

This time last year, we declared 2023 as The Year of the Rebrand. Now, with 2024 coming to a close, we turn our gaze to 2025—peering into the horizon of the branding world to uncover what lies ahead. 

I’ve spent this year chatting with design pros, dissecting pitch decks, and analyzing emerging campaigns to uncover where the branding industry is headed. Spoiler alert: it’s anything but business as usual. From AI-crafted design systems to purpose-driven storytelling that actually feels authentic for once, brands are showing up in ways that make me want to stand and applaud.

Without further ado, here’s what we’re predicting for brands in 2025:

Brand Strategy Trends

1. Hyper-Personalization at Scale

Brands will leverage AI and data analytics to deliver more personalized customer experiences, from product recommendations to dynamic branding elements that adapt to individual user preferences.

Spotify Wrapped; Nike By You

2. Purpose-Driven Branding (Refined)

While purpose remains critical, 2025 will see brands focus on authenticity and measurable impact rather than broad claims. Brands must show clear alignment between their stated values and tangible results.

Patagonia promoting repairable products; Ben & Jerry’s backing up activism with specific partnerships

3. Community-Centric Strategies

Building engaged communities will take precedence over traditional marketing. Brands will invest in digital and in-person spaces that encourage connection and co-creation with their audience.

Nike’s sneaker drops through its SNKRS app; LEGO Ideas

4. Decentralized Brand Ownership

With Web3 and blockchain technologies evolving, brands may experiment with decentralized ownership models, such as letting customers co-own or shape the brand through tokenized loyalty programs.

Starbucks’ Odyssey program rewards loyal customers with NFTs that unlock exclusive perks; Red Bull’s The Paddock loyalty program

5. Regionalization Over Globalization

Instead of creating universal global identities, brands will adopt hyper-localized strategies that reflect the values and aesthetics of specific markets. Case in point: Coca-Cola’s “Every Coca-Cola is Welcome” campaign.

Coca-Cola adapts its packaging, flavors, and campaigns to resonate with local cultures; McDonald’s offers region-specific menu items.

Design Trends

1. AI-Enhanced Design Systems

Designers will lean heavily on AI tools to generate brand assets, optimize user interfaces, and create real-time adaptations of logos, packaging, and experiences across platforms.

Canva’s AI-powered “Magic Studio”; Adobe FireFly

2. Neo-Brutalism & Playful Imperfection

While minimalism dominated the past decade, brands will embrace bold, imperfect, and human-centric aesthetics that feel less polished and more approachable.

Glossier street campaigns, Tony’s Chocolonely identity

3. Tactile Design in Digital Spaces

Inspired by material textures and tactile interactions, branding will incorporate 3D and haptic-like designs for digital experiences that mimic real-world sensations.

Moncler uses subtle shadows and layered visuals to mimic fabric textures; Apple macOS Sequoia introduces visual effects like window shadows and blur for depth.

4. Typography Revival

Custom fonts and expressive typography will take center stage as brands seek to differentiate themselves. Expect a mix of retro-inspired serif fonts and modern sans-serif combinations.

Burberry’s return to a custom serif typeface; L’eggs reintroduces Herb Lubalin’s iconic logotype

5. Color Gradients with Substance

Gradients will evolve to include nuanced, story-driven applications, reflecting mood, time of day, or cultural moments, rather than being purely decorative.

Instagram’s background color shifts to evoke emotion and moments; Duolingo uses gradients to create dynamic and playful digital assets.

Emerging Practices

1. Eco-Aesthetic Branding

Sustainability will drive not only materials but also design language—muted earth tones, recycled textures, and visuals that communicate environmental care will become more common.

Everlane’s muted earth tones and recyclable packaging; Aesop’s recyclable materials and minimalist designs.

2. Inclusive Visual Systems

Representation will extend beyond tokenism as brands develop truly inclusive design systems that adapt to different audiences and accessibility needs.

Fenty Beauty’s diverse skin tones and body types; Microsoft’s Fluent Design System prioritizes accessibility and inclusivity by offering tools and guidelines for creating interfaces that work for everyone.

3. Multi-Sensory Branding

Beyond sight and sound, brands will explore taste, touch, and smell through innovative packaging, physical experiences, and AR/VR interactions.

Sonos integrates tactile textures and calming soundscapes into its store displays; Apple’s use of haptics and subtle sounds enhances physical interaction with products.

4. Dynamic Brand Identities

Static logos and color palettes will give way to flexible systems that adapt based on context, mood, or audience, offering a living brand experience.

Coachella’s branding adapts colours, shapes, and themes annually to align with the festival’s evolving vibe; Google Doodles adapts to celebrate cultural events and milestones.

5. Metaverse-Ready Branding

Brands will design for the growing intersection of physical and virtual worlds, ensuring their identity and assets translate seamlessly across AR, VR, and immersive platforms.

Gucci’s digital Gucci Garden; Balenciaga and Fortnite collaborate on branded skins and virtual events.

The Takeaway? Be Bold. Be Brave. Be Fun.

Here’s the thing: the brands winning in 2025 won’t just be selling products. They’ll be connecting with us on a human level. They’ll be playful, purposeful, and sometimes a little messy—but that’s the magic. The best part? These trends aren’t just for the big players. Small businesses can dive into this brave new world, too.

• Invest in Authentic Relationships: Build strategies that foster genuine connections rather than transactional interactions.
• Design for Flexibility: Ensure your brand identity can adapt to multiple touchpoints, from screens to immersive environments.
• Leverage Data with Empathy: Use insights responsibly to create meaningful, personalized experiences without crossing privacy boundaries.
• Sustainability as a Baseline: Greenwashing will no longer suffice—brands must integrate sustainability into their core ethos and design.

See you in 2025. I’ll be the one wearing Nike AI sneakers and chomping down on a Tony’s Chocolonely.

Imagery: sourced via Google Search and on the brands’ websites.

The post Forecasting the Future: Brand & Design Predictions for 2025 appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

PRINT’s social feeds have become a dynamic stage for celebrating fresh talent, exploring design trends, and connecting with our ever-passionate audience. We shined a spotlight on groundbreaking artists and pulled on some threads of our industry’s most thought-provoking topics. But, as always, a few posts rose to the top, sparking the most likes, shares, and conversations across our platforms. So, without further ado, let’s revisit the top moments that defined PRINT’s social media in 2024.

Instagram

1. The Daily Heller: This Election is Not Yet in the Bag

2. Stuart Semple Calls Out Hostile Architecture with Powerful OOH Campaign

3. You Are All Wrong About the Jaguar Rebrand

Threads

1. (Our very first Thread!)

At last, but not least. PRINT Magazine has been at the forefront of design, showcasing the best in visual culture and creativity.

2. Call Yourself a Graphic Designer? You Have W.A. Dwiggins to Thank

3. Carolyn Mazloomi Uses the Power of Quilting to Honor Black History

Twitter

Most Clicks: In Conversation with Plains of Yonder, Title Sequence Creators for ‘The White Lotus’

Highest Retweets: Pantone 2025 Color of the Year is an Understated and Harmonious Hue

Top Likes: Decolonizing Design: Ukraine’s Fight for Visual Identity

Facebook

1. You Are All Wrong About the Jaguar Rebrand

2. ATX’s Guerilla Suit Delivers a Double-Dose of Hometown Brand Love

3. The Daily Heller: Wild Lines on the Loose at the Design Museum in Munich

LinkedIn

1. Bald’s Branding for Lazy Tuesdays Makes “Just Being” Fashionable

2. Dieline Awards 2024 Studio of the Year-Winner Wedge Breaks Down Its Big Wins and ‘Special’ Process

3. Stitches Meet Pixels in this Typeface Inspired by Norwegian Embroidery

Looking for more ways to stay connected with what’s happening in design in 2025? Follow us on Instagram, Threads, Twitter, Facebook, and LinkedIn.

Here’s to another year of creative discovery and connection!

The post PRINT Year in Review: 2024’s Most Loved Posts appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

Up until recently, NBT’s digital presence far from adequately reflected these accolades or the theatre’s importance as a cultural institution in New York and beyond. But after working with Noami Usher of her eponymous Studio Usher in concert with a brand refresh with Isometric and in partnership with Digital Citizen, National Black Theatre got the new website it needed and deserved.

Below, NBT’s Executive Artistic Director Jonathan McCrory reflects on the development of the institution’s new website, and how this new digital presence honors and elevates its mission.

(Conversation lightly edited for length and clarity.)

What does this new website say about NBT? 

The new website says that we are here and we are a national home. It shows that we are available, present, imaginative, and thinking about the future. It shares the cultural community that we are a part of and how we are a community center for culture to be birthed from. 

The new website is a calling card— one that allows old and new family members to get to know NBT in a richer, fuller, and more interactive way. It’s a way for us to radio out who we are, and a way for folks to begin to understand the legacy and social impact work NBT has done and will continue to do. We are not simply a theater meant for transactional relationships— we work to have transformational ones. It’s quite powerful to think about how this website will grow with us over time as an added member of the team.

What were the team’s main goals for this new website? What was the project’s overarching mission?

The main goals of the new website were to create a fun, urban-chic reflection of Harlem, the National Black Theatre (NBT), and the Black arts and culture movement. We wanted to capture the legacy and future-forward innovation that NBT has and will continue to steward, especially with the growth of the organization through the rebuilding of our physical home in Harlem, NY. 

We needed our digital home to be able to invite people to fully understand more of who we are and where we’ve come from, and provide the opportunity to engage with our future. Thanks to the generous support of Bloomberg Philanthropy’s Digital Accelerator Program, we at National Black Theatre were awarded the tools to dream and build a website that we could grow with. 

This was further amplified through the major capital redevelopment project NBT has embarked upon, which is radically transforming our current home into a new state-of-the-art building. Moving out of our physical space to help make this happen, NBT has had to work outside of our historic home since 2020 and launch a public-facing digital program called NBT Beyond Walls. This program has been in need of a robust virtual home that was reflective of our vision for the “theatre of the future.”  As the new facility continues to be constructed (slated through 2026), the new website becomes the singular landing space for us to connect with the community and showcase our values and our work, celebrate our legacy, and amplify the significant brand IP that we have cultivated for over 50 years.

Can you speak to any specific offerings on the new site that bring it to the next level in terms of function and user experience, as well as look and feel?

We surveyed the websites of our peers and wanted to generate something that would be reflective distinctively of NBT. Through the many conversations we had around our brand and how we can define it even further within the sector at large and amongst our peers within the Off-Broadway non-profit theatre world, we came up with a design that is continually adaptable, fun, clear, and interactive, with tools that will allow for the user to have an efficient yet informative experience. 

With the work done by Studio Usher and Digital Citizen, National Black Theatre has been able to generate an interactive website that has intuitive navigation, responsive design, and comprehensive event information and allows us to truly reflect and represent the multifaceted verticals that NBT participates in. It was quite remarkable to collaborate with both Studio Usher and Digital Citizen because they allowed us to dream outside of the context of our standard practice and to make sure we amplified the unique attributes that make NBT a powerful, visual, and interactive digital space for folks to engage within. In addition, the new site eloquently displays the vast visual language that NBT is known for.

As the new facility continues to be constructed (slated through 2026), the new website becomes the singular landing space for us to connect with the community and showcase our values and our work, celebrate our legacy, and amplify the significant brand IP that we have cultivated for over 50 years.

What aspect of the new website are you proudest of?

What I’m most proud of is not what you visually see, but how we worked as a team in a pressurized setting to get the work done. Creating a site of this scale is no small feat, and takes tons of time, thought, and attention to detail. Reflecting on the process, this small yet mighty team embodied the slogan, “Teamwork makes the dream work.” 

This website was made out of love and a true commitment to creating a beacon that would reflect the best values of the National Black Theatre in digital form. Our newly hired Director of Marketing and Communications, Nikki Vera, stepped into the middle of this process and partnered with me to see this through. Sade Lythcott, our steadfast CEO, kept checking our impulses to make sure the finalized design we were optimizing was future-forward thinking. The teams at Studio Usher and Digital Citizen blended together to create the best final product, while still addressing the questions we had so NBT could really be in the driver’s seat moving forward. 

Lastly, I want to give a big thank you to Bloomberg Philanthropy’s Digital Accelerator Program consultant, Brenda Berliner, who was with us from day one of this process and gave us invaluable guidance through NBT’s first time doing such an expansive website revamp. 

So, what I’m proudest of is the blending of functionality and soul. It embodies NBT’s energy and is soulful yet modern while remaining rooted in our rich history. The website feels welcoming, alive, and vibrant, and that would not have happened without the tribe that showed up to make sure that what you get to experience and what you get to click through is a reflective vibration of this institution. 

The post National Black Theatre Launches New Website Reflective of its Future-Forward Mission appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

Goodman, known for his bold, playful illustrations, has reimagined the iconic Rao’s label by infusing it with festive holiday charm while staying true to the essence of the brand. Vibrant doodles of basil leaves, garlic bulbs, and tomatoes dance alongside snowflakes and other seasonal touches for a label that’s as flavorful as the jar’s contents—crafted with simple, high-quality ingredients like whole peeled Italian tomatoes, fresh onions, and garlic.

This creative collaboration isn’t just about a pretty package, though. Rao’s Homemade has launched the limited-edition jars in celebration of their 12 Days of Holiday Giveaways. And if luck isn’t on your side, you can snag the jar for $10.99 at raos.com starting December 11th—until supplies run out.

Here’s the cherry tomato on top: 100% of proceeds from the jars will go to City Harvest, a New York-based charity that rescues and redistributes food to feed millions of New Yorkers in need. So, not only will your pantry be stocked with something delicious, but your purchase will also help fight food insecurity this holiday season.

This limited-edition jar represents more than a clever marketing move; it’s a testament to the creative possibilities of branding when it goes beyond the expected. Rao’s is bridging the gap between its rich heritage and contemporary culture by collaborating with a celebrated artist, proving that holiday campaigns can be both heartwarming and head-turning.

So, whether you’re a fan of art, great marinara, or giving back, this is one limited-edition offering worth savoring—both for its flavor and its purpose.

The post Rao’s Homemade Gets a Festive Makeover with Timothy Goodman appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

Identity Politics is a column written by veteran journalist Susan Milligan, covering the big issues in the socio-political ether as they intersect with design, art, and other modes of visual communication.

Inside Europe’s iconic cathedral was a tragic lineup of man-made disruption and grim foreboding. There was the host, French President Emmanuel Macron, whose government had just collapsed days before and was fending off calls to resign. There was First Lady Jill Biden, whose husband had been hounded from the presidential race, told that his re-election effort would merely ensure the re-installation of a convicted felon who pledged to be a dictator on day one. There was Donald Trump, who won, anyway, and was in the process of assembling a governing team with myriad ethical and political problems of their own. And there was Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelenskyy, desperately trying to salvage what’s left of his war-ravaged country and knowing that Macron, and especially Trump, would hold tremendous power over the fate of his country and his people.

Then there was the Gothic guest of honor, Notre-Dame de Paris, its newly-rebuilt vaulted ceilings and restored artwork sending a singular, silent, and powerful message: I will endure. I have survived a devastating fire that threatened to end my 860-year-long life. My survival a testament to humanity’s resilience, stronger than any strongman whose time will come and, inevitably, go.

It’s been a trying time for many of us after the November elections, as we were hit with the painful truth that a plurality of our fellow Americans chose hate – or at least, decided that the hateful rhetoric spewed by the president-elect wasn’t a dealbreaker for them. And it’s not just Americans; people around the world are grappling with anti-democratic forces and helplessly watching as war destroys lives and communities in Gaza, Ukraine, and Sudan. Add in the escalating threat of climate change, and it’s fair to wonder and worry if we are facing the end times.

I had the tremendous privilege of getting inside the newly restored Notre Dame cathedral the week it re-opened and was relieved to hear the implied response from the structure: No. Architecture, art, and design are saying no; we will not let culture and humanity be destroyed, no matter how much humans themselves test our power.

That art and architecture outlast people is an indisputable truth, and people rely on it to sustain their culture and traditions long after they are gone. The original construction of Notre Dame is a testament to that fact. Building the cathedral took nearly two centuries, and the human commitment cannot be forgotten. Imagine the early builders of the cathedral, toiling away with 12th-century tools, knowing that only their descendants eight to ten generations later would see the finished result. It was a recognition that both the building itself and the concept of building would endure, providing a thread to hold together those generations no matter what wars, natural disasters, and political upheaval did to break those bonds.

Buildings matter. When the Twin Towers fell during the 9-11 attacks, the added insult to the unspeakable loss of human life was the assault on a symbol of New York City. And when a community chooses to rebuild, it is a defiant statement that the culture will not be erased.

Teatro La Fenice, the historic opera house in Venice, has been through it and rebuilt. “We burnt twice but twice we have risen from our ashes stronger. We are at your side, friends, so fear not!” the theater told its famous Parisian friend on social media after Notre Dame suffered its own blaze.

Warsaw did it. It’s a city, as we wryly observed when I was living in Central Europe in the 1990s, that was destroyed by the Nazis and rebuilt by the Russians — a terrible combination. The Poles lost about 90 percent of Warsaw due to German attacks during World War II, and artworks were destroyed or stolen on a massive scale. The Nazi’s point was not just to conquer Poland but to erase its culture, including its identity in architecture and art.

So, the Poles undertook a painstaking effort to rebuild the old town. With no photographic evidence to show what the historic area looked like, the Poles turned to art. Using the paintings of 18th-century artist Venetian artist Bernardo Bellotto to guide them, they rebuilt. Warsaw’s old town, while technically one of the capital city’s newer pieces of real estate, endures as it was in its golden age hundreds of years ago.

And so it was with the cathedral, sited at what was deemed in the 18th century the starting point of the roads of France. After the massive fire destroyed much of Notre Dame in 2019, the decision was quickly made to restore it. Suggestions to “modernize” it in some way – replacing the legendary spire with a 300-foot flame, a greenhouse, or a column of light – were speedily rejected as disrespectful, even blasphemous, to Notre Dame’s history.

Instead, two thousand workers – engineers, roofers, restorers, cleaners, and the organ specialists who cleaned, repaired, and reassembled the church’s famed organ – put Notre Dame back together again, pretty much exactly as it had been. They worked through the pandemic. They braved the threat of noxious dust. They restored 17th-century paintings. The most striking thing about the cathedral is how light it now is, the stone unblemished by weather, candle smoke, and centuries of grime that had made the interior darker for pre-fire visitors. There were some lovely new additions, including a copper figure – a combination of a rooster and a phoenix to symbolize the rebirth of the cathedral – that features the names of those who restored Notre Dame. A bell used at the Stade de France during Paris’ hosting of the 2024 Olympic games was donated to Notre Dame to ring with two smaller bells during mass.

But it’s still the familiar Notre Dame. And that’s important. It’s not just a place to worship, reflect, and gaze at old paintings. Notre Dame is a constant reminder that things can indeed endure despite history’s outside forces – a fire, a problematic political leader – disrupting things.

It’s a heavily emotional experience to enter the restored Notre Dame. One feels overwhelmed by a sense of community, shared sacrifice, and the stubborn resilience of art and creation. “It’s about building,” a Notre Dame worker told me as I breathed in the history of the newly refurbished cathedral. And it is, most importantly, about hope. Notre Dame wants us to know: We will survive.

Susan Milligan is an award-winning veteran journalist covering politics, culture, foreign affairs, and business in Washington, DC, New York, and Eastern Europe. A former writer for the New York Daily News, the Boston Globe, and US News & World Report, she was among a team of authors of the New York Times bestseller Last Lion: The Rise and Fall of Ted Kennedy. A proud Buffalo native, Milligan lives in northern Virginia.

Images courtesy of the author except where noted; header image design by Debbie Millman.

The post The Dame Persists Undeterred by Human Follies appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

While these perverse toys might look real at first, they are, in fact, figments of Rosemberg’s imagination, visualized through AI software. Using the style of 90s toy advertisements and packaging, the Forbidden Toys project deploys dark humor to poke fun at commercialism and the toy industry. But first and foremost, it’s clear that Rosemberg is just having a laugh. The artist was kind enough to answer a few of my questions about their Forbidden Toys series, shedding light on their background, process, and the use of AI in the arts. Their responses are below.

What’s your art background?

I have formal academic training in photography and film, but I’ve spent my entire life irresistibly absorbed by artistic creation in its most diverse forms: literature, drawing, design, music… 

A few years ago, I began exploring creation from a conceptual perspective, which led me to leave modified works and toys out on the streets. That conceptual exploration eventually gave birth to the project we’re discussing today: Forbidden Toys.

That said, I consider the art I made as a young child to be part of the overall corpus of my work. I’m still inventing stories and drawing monsters.

Where did the idea for your Forbidden Toys series come from? How did that develop into what it is today?

Toys have always been present in my work in one way or another (in addition to being an avid collector of toys and peculiar objects), so the idea was always there. 

I’ve always been deeply fascinated by the evolution of AI, and I vividly remember how awestruck I was the first day I tried DALL-E mini and asked it to generate 1960s-style laser guns. While the results weren’t realistic yet, they were precise enough to make it clear that it could be used as a creative tool in the future.

During a particularly stressful period when I barely left the house, I developed the Forbidden Toys project, which continues to serve as a form of therapy to this day. As the project gained popularity, I began refining the images and producing real objects, which is where the project currently stands.

What AI software do you use for Forbidden Toys? What are your general thoughts on AI usage in the art world?

I currently use several: MidJourney, DALL-E 3, Runway, and Wand, depending on my specific needs. I then mix and finalize everything traditionally using Procreate or Photoshop.

Naturally, I support the indiscriminate use of AI, just as I support any tool that an artist can use to express themselves. The controversy around using copyrighted material to train AI models feels distant to me because of my contradictory reluctance to fully accept copyright as a legitimate right. That said, just as generating illustrations or designs doesn’t make you an illustrator or designer, it does allow you to materialize concepts, which is, by definition, an act of conceptual creation.

The eternal post-Duchamp debate on authorship and what qualifies as art is as stimulating as it is repetitive. This debate has been unconsciously revived with the popularity of AI, and though it’s framed from a new perspective, it’s the same old argument. It’s true that this technology will inevitably create casualties, as always happens with groundbreaking tools; particularly among certain technical jobs and commission artists whose styles are easily imitated. 

However, the debate is irresolvable, and it will always be fascinating to read theoretical frameworks that supposedly distinguish art from what isn’t.

The eternal post-Duchamp debate on authorship and what qualifies as art is as stimulating as it is repetitive. This debate has been unconsciously revived with the popularity of AI, and though it’s framed from a new perspective, it’s the same old argument.

What’s your typical process like for developing your ideas for each Forbidden Toy?

The initial process is identical to any other artistic project I’ve undertaken; I always carry a notebook where I jot down ideas and sketches. This essentially gives you an extension of your brain with a prodigious memory; anything can inspire an idea. 

Once I’ve determined that a concept is interesting, the first thing I do is draw it to get a sense of what I’m looking for. After establishing a clear vision, I move on to wrestling with AI to generate the necessary elements. Working with AI is like dealing with a half-deaf art department since my ideas are often very specific and leave little room for abstraction; the process can be as tedious as it is inspiring. With all the required elements prepared, the most labor-intensive part of the process begins: combining everything traditionally in an image editor, where I fix errors, finalize the texts, and refine the overall composition. 

Much like making a film, the final result always diverges from the initial mental image you had. Your job is to approximate that vision, and the important thing is that the narrative and message are expressed in the way you intended.

Which of your Forbidden Toys is your favorite? Is there a particular Forbidden Toy that you feel encapsulates what you’re trying to do with the project the best?

It’s hard to pick just one because, beyond each having unique characteristics, they’re all part of the same project, so my preference is purely personal.  I’d say my favorite is “Zappy” because it marked a turning point in how precisely I could convey my ideas.  

The toy I think best encapsulates what I’m trying to achieve with the project is undoubtedly “Pregnant Ken.” For some inexplicable reason, it caught the attention of a Cypriot MP who turned it into a scandal and got fact-checking agencies investigating the image’s origins. The whole fiasco culminated in an official statement from Mattel denying any connection to “Pregnant Ken.” 

Naturally, I’ve got the statement framed at home as a trophy.

What are you trying to communicate or say as an artist with the Forbidden Toys series? What sort of experience do you hope your followers have with your creations?

At its core, I aim to open a window into a nonexistent past and provoke the kind of reactions that would arise if these objects were real. Toys are a medium we all know, and that shape our personalities, always leaving a residue of identification that is fascinating to play with. By presenting objects with a familiar context but grotesque essence, an inevitable comparison to reality occurs, leading to thoughts I find deeply engaging: Is this real? How does it work? Who in their right mind would think of something like this? 

These reactions are the essence of what I aim to convey because they forcibly stimulate a subverted reflection on the concept itself. At the same time, they can serve as a commentary on censorship, ideology, taboo, governance, and the weight that advertising language carries within them.  

In a way, I compel viewers to recreate the experience of wandering through a bazaar and stumbling across a Bin Laden action figure from a Western perspective.  

My followers generally fall into three main categories: those who appreciate the artistic value and understand the project, those who interpret it as purely humorous, and (my personal favorites) those who believe the toys are real.  

All of them are right.

The post The ‘Forbidden Toys’ Series Proves that There is a Place for AI in the Arts appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

“Where the Truth Lies”, the Fall 2024 semester SVA MFA Design class I teach, was held amid talk and acts of authoritarianism in otherwise democratic societies. I took the opportunity to start a BRANDING DEMOCRACY project, an ongoing demonstration of how designers, artists, filmmakers, and photographers interpret the various facets of democracy and sum up its key ideals – its truths and fallacies. In the spirit of the theme, participants are asked to create, using various expressive and representational media, what democracy means to them in social, political, philosophical, and humanist terms. The door was even open to defining the concept through style, fashion, and just about anything that can be branded.

What is and is not democracy? Democracy is neither black nor white, there are many shades of light and dark democratic behavior. Participants in this project are invited to address one or more nodes along the democracy spectrum.

Throughout 2025, I plan to offer up some examples from my class but also encourage other design and illustration programs to take part.

Assignment:

Design a visual/graphic sign, symbol, campaign, or other visual narrative strategy that speaks to YOUR understanding of democracy as a social/political construct.

Expectation:

Conceive and create representation(s) of democracy in symbolic or narrative form(s).

All media are acceptable.

You do not have to focus on American democracy but democracy as an overarching concept that spans history and has evolved to the present day.  

In short, “What does democracy look like?”

The first example, by You Min Choi, is a blinkered view of democracy as a “work in progress.” Using design symbols and animation as brand elements, her strategy is to celebrate the advantages while highlighting the flaws of democracy, what she calls “Democracy in Progress” (DIP).

The post The Daily Heller: The Shifting Shapes of Democracy appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

I stood in the New York Public Library’s Picture Collection, having just asked the archivist, “Where can I find the ‘Ukraine in World War II’ folder?” The archivist looked into my eyes for a few awkward seconds; then, she opened the catalog. Her fingers moved nimbly over the glossy pages. “Search in ‘Russia in World War II’ one,” she suggested. Her eyes never lifted from the catalog.

It was not the first time I’d been advised to search for Ukrainian materials in the Russian section, yet I was expecting more from the New York Public Library. “Maybe I can find what I need in the ‘Soviet Union in World War II’ folder?” I proposed, hoping for a more accurate categorization.

She responded briskly, “No, we keep both the Soviet Union and Ukraine in the Russian folder.” I was confused and frustrated. The logic behind this classification seemed alien to me, distorting historical reality. “But it was the USSR that consisted of republics, not Russia. The Russian Federation and Ukraine were once republics of the USSR, not the other way around.”

“Well, that’s how we do it here,” the archivist explained as if blaming me for my lack of understanding of how the world works.

A cultural gap persists in how history is organized and interpreted.

With its rows of shelves holding folders that housed snippets of history frozen in photographs, the setting around us took on a surreal quality. The hushed whispers of researchers, the shuffle of papers, and the soft creaking of the library’s wooden floors underpinned our dialogue. The air in the room carried the weight of historical narratives, both accurate and skewed.

The archivist’s response hinted at a broader misconception prevalent in the Western world—a subtle rewriting of history that overshadowed the distinct identities of nations within the former Soviet Union. A cultural gap persists in how history is organized and interpreted.

I left the library without my requested images but with a lingering realization that how we organize history, even within the hallowed walls of an institution like the New York Public Library, can reflect the biases and oversights of a collective cultural perspective. The dialogue echoed in my mind, reminding me that the search for historical truth is not just about finding the right folder. It is about navigating the layers of interpretation that shape our understanding of the past. As a design writer, I started to think about the influence of the conflation of the words “Soviet” and “Russian” on Ukrainian graphic design.

Search “Ukrainian graphic design,” and you will see art that emerged after the fall of 2022. Yellow and blue posters with anti-war slogans, soldiers, tanks, drops of red on tranquil village landscapes, destroyed buildings, and many more pictures that index sorrow, despair, and hope. Mostly, their creators hoped for help from the outside world. Visual communication could transmit messages to groups with the power to influence the unfolding of events, and graphic design became a successful medium for building a conversation with the Western world.

The term “graphic design” first appeared in a 1922 essay by William Addison Dwiggins called “New Kind of Printing Calls for New Design.” Around that time, Ukrainians had just lost the Ukrainian–Soviet War, which lasted from March 1917 to November 1921. By its end, the Soviet Union absorbed the territory of present-day Ukraine and made it the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic. The very moment the graphic design appeared in the world, Ukraine disappeared from the political map.

As a republic of the USSR, Ukraine did not have a right to its language, literature, and art. Everything that was created then had to be titled “Soviet.” Those Ukrainians who managed to produce art were killed and accused of nationalism. Their works were saved and renamed “Soviet.” Those artists who followed the Kremlin line were called “Russians.” The written history of that period (written by the USSR) has very little visual evidence of the UKRAINIAN heritage during those years. Yet that does not mean that heritage was absent. You might find evidence of it when checking folders, links, books, and museums of Russian art or, at worst, of the Soviet Union.

Language choices play a crucial role in how people remember the past. When the USSR collapsed in 1991, everything “Soviet” became “Russian.” During the Soviet times, the gems of fifteen Soviet republics were accumulated in the capital of the USSR—Moscow. After the collapse of the superstate, Russia inherited the art of Armenia, Azerbaijan, Belarus, Estonia, Georgia, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Latvia, Lithuania, Moldova, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, and Ukraine. To this day, in the eyes of many, the present-day countries that were once under the USSR’s control are still one big monolithic “Russia.” The West conflates the language, using the adjective “Russian” rather than “Soviet” when meaning “Russian,” “Belarusian,” and “Ukrainian.” The East is saying “Russian,” meaning “Russian”, “Belarusian,” “Georgian,” “Latvianian,” ”Lithuanian,” “Moldovan,” and “Ukrainian.”

Today, Ukrainian graphic design is rooted in national identification, in search of future needs, and in understanding the cultural influence of a painful past on a, once again, painful present.

But what happens if you try to find evidence of Ukrainian graphic design from before 2014 when Russia annexed Ukrainian Crimea, and there appeared an urgency in world attention? Search in English and you will find images and links on war themes. Search for it in the Ukrainian language, and you will see links that I translate as “Design Tells the Story of Independent Ukraine,” “Graphic Design with a Ukrainian Face,” “Discovering Authenticity,” “The Status of Design Development in Ukraine,” and “What design traditions did Ukraine inherit from the Soviet Union?” Click on Images. Most of them were created after 2014, reflecting on the war in Ukraine. Others are in the form of photos from interviews, covers of YouTube videos, and books, inviting the curious reader to check the articles discussing Ukrainian typography, book design, and imagery. These post-2014 discussions claim that Ukrainian art existed for as long as the Ukrainian blood was running and that Ukrainian people were always finding inspiration in their nation’s complicated history. Today, Ukrainian graphic design is rooted in national identification, in search of future needs, and in understanding the cultural influence of a painful past on a, once again, painful present. Their past was abundant in revolutions, wars, losses, and endless efforts to put the country on its feet, leading to a broken heritage that, for centuries, existed in the shadows of other countries.

“The Face of War” [2016] emerged as a testament to the impact of conflict on Ukrainian lives. Crafted by Daria Marchenko in collaboration with American artist Daniel Green. A mosaic portrait of Vladimir Putin, meticulously constructed from bullet casings collected in eastern Ukraine, speaks volumes about the resilience and endurance of the Ukrainian people. Once an instrument of destruction, each bullet casing undergoes an organic metamorphosis, becoming an element of creation. The colors of the casings range from muted metallic grays to darker, oxidized tones, creating a textured surface that reflects the history and impact of each shell.

A graphic designer and illustrator, Maria Kinovych, has created a collection of sixty posters of Ukraine war art. In her “Home soon, dear” [2022], she drew a map of Ukraine, colored in blue and yellow, with the Crimean peninsula, colored in white, blue, and red. The hand above Crimea holds an eraser, freeing the yellow land of the peninsula from the colors of the Russian flag. Another poster titled “80 days of the full-scale Russian invasion. I almost forgot what I was like before all these rockets and tanks” shows a half of a black silhouette of a woman blurred on the red background.

Posters (all unnamed) by Maria Kinovych

Today, the Ukrainian graphic design identity is strong, but for a sad reason. Even though it is working in the country’s favor, addressing the current problems and communicating them to a broad audience, the traditional Ukrainian design is yet to be uncovered by the world. The nation’s cultural tapestry is encoded in a palette of deep reds, blues, yellows, and greens, each color carrying historical and symbolic significance. These hues echo the vibrant landscapes, traditional costumes, and folklore. The use of bold colors serves as a visual celebration of the country’s vitality and resilience. The geometric design connects graphic design to the country’s textile heritage. Floral patterns communicate a connection to nature. Folk symbols create a visual dialogue with Ukraine’s historical narrative. Embroidery, a cherished Ukrainian craft, significantly influences graphic design. Traditional embroidery’s intricate stitches and patterns resonate with contemporary graphic elements, fostering a connection between the past and the present.

Ukrainian motifs in unnamed works by Maria Kinovych

When I think of Ukrainian art, the first thing that comes to mind is the Petrykivka painting style, with its intricate floral and plant motifs. It suffused so many household items in my childhood: wooden spoons, ceramic plates, vases, and other household items depicting asters, dahlias, roses, chamomile, and fruits combined in fantasy compositions of plants and shrubs. Sometimes, floral patterns were combined with the images of birds and animals. Originating in the village of Petrykivka, this unique painting style is a hallmark of Ukrainian folk art that has recently inspired Ukrainian graphic designers. Characterized by its intricate floral and plant motifs, the Petrykivka paintings blend colors and a distinctive freehand technique. The style originated in the 17th century, and its continuation signifies a commitment to preserving cultural heritage. Graphic designers draw inspiration from the organic forms and vibrant palette, incorporating the Petrykivka elements into logos, posters, and digital designs. Flowers, birds, and animals depicted in the Petrykivka paintings often carry symbolic meanings, connecting the artwork to themes of fertility, protection, and spirituality. As an integral part of Ukraine’s artistic heritage, the Petrykivka motifs tell stories and evoke a sense of national pride in contemporary graphic design. Inga Yoon, a digital illustrator, developed an online course, Petrykivka Ukrainian Folk Art: Digital Floral Illustration. Using a combination of gouache and watercolor, she teaches foreign audiences to draw in the Petrykivka style. She presents Ukraine as a modern country with original art, creating designs using the Petrykivka technique for lush and life-affirming paintings.

After the dialogue with the archivist of the NYPL Picture Collection, I kept searching for answers. I bought a ticket for the “Decolonizing Ukrainian Design” event organized by the Ukrainian Museum and Cooper Union’s Herb Lubalin Study Center. There, two graphic designers, Aliona Solomadina and Yurko Gutsulyak, a professor of Ukrainian Literature and Language at the University of Manitoba, Dr. Myroslav Shkandrij, and the curator of the Lubalin Center, Alexander Tolchilovsky, discussed the ongoing efforts to correct Russian and Soviet colonialism in Ukrainian design, with a particular focus on graphic design and typography. Yurko Gutsulyak stated, “Over the past decade, Ukrainian graphic design has undergone a revolution. Its roots are being slowly decolonized.” Since the beginning of the war, Ukrainians stopped being so focused on Western culture, centering their attention around their heritage. I am heartened that the Ukrainians attempt to decolonize Ukrainian graphic design. Still, it will take a long time before I can walk into a Western library and search for Ukrainian art directly in the Ukrainian section. Today, Ukrainian graphic design artists do not have enough time and resources to dive into the rich cultural past, mainly focusing on yellow and blue posters with military scenes through which they address the urgent pain of their nation–war.

It is difficult to imagine the future of the Ukrainian design. What visual language will be created after the war is over? Will Ukrainians struggle with distancing their works from the war themes? Have they already built an identity of an oppressed nation that only talks about sadness? Ukrainian graphic designers must answer these questions soon so we do not have to live in a world where Ukrainian art is left to be discovered in Russian folders.

This is a guest post by postgraduate design researcher, writer, and adventurer El. Stern. Her research explores the influence of design within mass media on identity formation.

Header image: “Home soon, dear” by Maria Kinovych

The post Decolonizing Design: Ukraine’s Fight for Visual Identity appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

Always curious about how color reflects culture, Pantone’s Color of the Year 2025 is PANTONE 17-1230 Mocha Mousse, which offers plenty to unpack. A rich, earthy brown, it’s positioned as a color that balances sophistication and comfort. But does it capture the mood of the moment?

This year, much of the design world has been focused on themes of sustainability, simplicity, and connection. Mocha Mousse seeks to tap into those ideas, evoking warmth and stability. It’s a grounded shade that nods to nature and the pleasures of everyday life—a safe choice, perhaps, but also a versatile one.

Pantone’s reveal, featuring a light show on the London Eye, certainly adds some drama to the announcement. The collaborations, too, are impressive: Motorola’s vegan leather phones and Joybird’s plush fabrics demonstrate how Mocha Mousse can be used across industries. Other product collaborations include Pura’s smart fragrance diffuser with custom scents, Wix Studio’s web design assets, Libratone’s UP headphones, Spoonflower’s print-on-demand home décor, IPSY’s limited-edition beauty products, Society6’s artist-driven designs, Ultrafabrics’ premium interior textiles, and Post-it® Brand’s special collection celebrating expressive color.

Still, the color feels understated, even subdued, compared to the bold selections of previous years. Perhaps this choice reflects a response to the chaotic and unpredictable events of 2024, offering a sense of calm and grounding in a time of upheaval. “The everlasting search for harmony filters through into every aspect of our lives, including our relationships, the work we do, our social connections, and the natural environment that surrounds us,” said Laurie Pressman, vice president of Pantone Color Institute. “Harmony brings feelings of contentment, inspiring a positive state of inner peace, calm, and balance as well as being tuned in with the world around us. Harmony embraces a culture of connection and unity as well as the synthesis of our mental, spiritual and physical well-being.”

…for Pantone Color of the Year 2025, we look to a color that reaches into our desire for comfort and wellness, and the indulgence of simple pleasures that we can gift and share with others.

Laurie Pressman, VP Pantone Color Institute

For designers, Mocha Mousse has potential. It’s a great neutral for grounding palettes, and its tactile qualities make it appealing in interior design and packaging. But it’s not the kind of shade that demands attention or inspires an immediate wow factor. Instead, it’s a quiet presence — more about being a harmonious complement than a leading show-stopper.

As we move into 2025, it will be interesting to see how this color plays out in real-world applications. Will it resonate with audiences craving simplicity and comfort, or will it fade into the background? Time will tell. For now, Mocha Mousse offers designers a tool for creating warmth and subtle elegance, even if it doesn’t quite steal the spotlight.

Imagery courtesy of The Pantone Color Institute.

The post Pantone 2025 Color of the Year is an Understated and Harmonious Hue appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

We’re at this great nexus of being able to return focus to the book as an object, as a form of expression, and figuring out ways to do that so that it’s relevant to a contemporary audience.

Arion Press has been manually printing books on centuries-old equipment in San Francisco for 50 years, yet they are currently embarking upon a new beginning. The last vertically integrated bookmaker in the country, Arion Press was established in 1974 and has most recently been housed in San Francisco’s Presidio neighborhood. They officially opened their new doors in the Fort Mason Center for Arts & Culture in October—after moving over 49 tons of antique equipment—and will soon be releasing their second title of the year, Fables of Aesop.

Arion Press is composed of a production team of six people, split between three departments: the foundry, the press room, and the book bindery. They also work with local bookbinder John Demerritt, and have an additional seven employees on the administrative side of things who spearhead development and programming. Arion Press’s lead printer and creative director, Blake Riley, was hired back in 2001 originally as one of the imprint’s first apprentices. I recently spoke with Riley on the occasion of all of this excitement, to learn more about the history of Arion Press, Fables of Aesop, and keeping the art of bookmaking alive.

(Lightly edited for clarity and length.)

Take me back to the origin of Arion Press. How did it all begin? 

We trace our lineage back in San Francisco to the late teens when Edwin and Robert Grabhorn came out from Indiana. Curiously, Edwin had been primarily a printer of music scores, which is a very niche, phenomenal process that has fallen entirely by the wayside at this point. They set up shop in San Francisco in the late teens and established the Grabhorn Press, which became one of the premier American fine press operations for decades, through the 60s. After Edwin passed away, the younger brother, Robert, ultimately went into partnership with Andrew Hoyem. When Robert died, Andrew founded Arion as an imprint in 1974, which is why we’re claiming this year as our 50th anniversary celebration. 

I know you started out at Arion Press as an apprentice. Can you tell me a bit more about the apprenticeship program? 

With maybe only one exception, everyone who works in production here has come up through this apprenticeship program. It’s ongoing and is considered a fundamental part of the activity that happens here. 

This is one of those professions or trades that is especially unique because it relies very heavily on this oral transmission of skills. There is a certain amount of book learning you can do around this; you can learn technique by reading repair manuals and that kind of thing. But to really have a sense for the sounds of the presses and to be able to see how hands work in relation to bring it all together, there’s no way to simulate that experience. So the apprenticeships became really instrumental in that.

By now, we’ve easily had over three dozen apprentices. Obviously, not all of them have stayed, some of them have gone on to work in other areas of the book arts or for other book arts organizations, or to teach, some of them have moved on altogether, but it actually has proven to be a very successful, robust lifeline for the press and for letterpress printing as a whole. 

I think a lot of other old trades and handcrafts are similar. I’m a sign painter, and I took a two-year sign painting course at LA Trade Tech College that’s not an apprenticeship per se, but it does replicate certain aspects of what an apprenticeship would offer. I learned from two sign painters who’ve been doing it for decades and who took the course themselves. The knowledge that they have is invaluable, and so much of it is just in their heads, so you really have to be in the room with them for two years in order to even scrape the surface of understanding sign painting.

A lot of it, too, is that the people who have that knowledge aren’t natural-born teachers, so there’s a lot that they don’t have words for. Or until a certain problem arises, it wouldn’t occur to them to explain the fix, or how you go about creating a fix for a problem that’s never arisen, that kind of thing. There’s a lot of that kind of knowledge that gets transferred by osmosis. 

What’s your favorite aspect of what you and your team do at Arion Press? 

Writ large, what’s most exciting about the work is that it’s such a dynamic moment to be involved with the book because it’s going through these radical changes. There’s this interesting division that’s occurred between knowledge and information. When people say, the web is going to be the death knell of the book! it’s really the opposite. What the web has done quite brilliantly is wrangle information and remove all of that encyclopedic burden from the book, which frees it up to do all of these other things. Meanwhile, the technologies for construction and manufacturing are changing so quickly that they are offering these wild new opportunities for ways in which books can actually physically be constructed. So we’re at this great nexus of being able to return focus to the book as an object, as a form of expression, and figuring out ways to do that so that it’s relevant to a contemporary audience.

What the web has done, quite brilliantly, is wrangle information and remove all of that encyclopedic burden from the book, which frees it up to do all of these other things.

Part of that is incorporating new technologies, and figuring out how the book can embrace those. That’s the most exciting thing for us: this project of invention and discovery. What that means in the day-to-day that is especially motivating is that it requires this incredible collaboration between all of the creative people who are involved in a project. That’s the artists within the publishing program, then working with the book binders and the guys in the foundry, and being able to coordinate everyone’s expertise to bring them into alignment with the concept for the project, and hopefully ending up with something that surprises everybody. It’s almost always the case that we never know where we’re going to end up, because the process is so organic.

I’m mesmerized by the ancient printing equipment and techniques you all have preserved and use to create your books. What’s it like working with such special and historic machinery day in and day out? 

A significant portion of the type collection here, which is the largest standing collection of metal type outside of the Smithsonian Institution, goes back to San Francisco printers at the end of the 19th century. Plus, ours is still employed; it’s still making books and printing words; it’s not just a research collection. The collection began to be compiled by the Grabhorns, who were great collectors. All of that adds up to what has been described as this irreplaceable cultural treasure designation that we were bestowed.

When working with the historic type collection, we may have a certain design in mind or a certain look for the typography, but when we go to the case it may turn out that we only have a partial alphabet of that particular typeface. So there are instances like that that arise daily where we have to pivot and devise a new solution based on all of the physical realities and constraints of working with 100-year-old equipment. That really leads to this ongoing, continuous conversation and evolution of every project where one thing leads to the next so that by the time we end up with the book finished and bound, it’s something that no one really could have anticipated. There’s a real excitement, joy, and delight associated with that. 

What’s it like keeping an old press and these antique technologies thriving within the context of San Francisco, a place dominated by big tech and digital innovation? 

The most facile metaphor for it is the interplay and relationship between radio and television, and the ways in which television actually ended up leading to the renaissance of radio that we’ve seen in the last couple of decades. We are by no means tech-averse. The monotype casters, for example, which were invented at the tail end of the Industrial Revolution in the 1890s, were the first word processors; they were cutting-edge technology for their day. So when the foundry was set up here in the Bay Area in 1915, it was cutting-edge technology. 

We are by no means tech-averse.

Originally, the monotypes were a two-part system where there was a paper tape that was punched on a hydraulic keyboard, and then that tape was fed onto the typecaster. But then the paper tape became complicated for various reasons, and about 15 years ago this beautiful digital interface was engineered that replaced that whole process. So now what we have is this 21st-century digital interface connected to the 19th-century caster that allows us to download a text from anything that’s in the public domain, format it, and convert it to be cast. It was this beautiful way, much like television and radio, that the new technology has moved in and helped buoy the old one. 

Another example that came up recently was when we worked on the Edgar Allen Poe collection. In the process of building that project, we stumbled upon this pile of bricks that had been rescued when NYU demolished Poe’s house in lower Manhattan. Unbeknownst to anyone, they moved in and raised the house, but it seems as if perhaps a mea culpa, they preserved the bricks. So all of a sudden we had these bricks, and there was this question of how we could incorporate them somehow into the book and enliven the experience that much more. What we ended up doing with them was working with a colleague of ours here in the Bay, John Sullivan, who had gotten into paper making and 3D printing. He created 3D molds into which we could grind the bricks down like a mortar and pestle and use the brick dust as a pigmentation in the pulp paper, and then we packed the molds. We ended up creating these three-dimensional cameos of Poe’s visage, and those were then embedded in the covers of the books. The paper-making is relatively ancient, but being able to create these cameos was made possible by technology only available within the last ten years. 

We’re really invested in that exploring, in breaking down the barrier between those two things and helping ensure that it’s a two-way communication from the digital to the analog, and from the analog back to the digital. They all happily coexist. 

Can you tell me more about Arion Press’s 50th anniversary celebration this year, and the Fables of Aesop collection you’re releasing as part of the milestone? 

We wanted to create something that would appropriately commemorate the press at this inflection point, while also accommodating the move. A year and a half ago, we didn’t exactly know what the move would entail other than it would happen within a six-month period and be completely disruptive and unpredictable. So we had to design a project that could somehow be modular and flexible enough to absorb this unexpected future. 

Those two things came together in Aesop. It seemed appropriate not only for its longstanding role in the history of printing— I came across one comment that said, second to the Bible, Aesop’s fables is the most printed work in the Western world. This makes a lot of sense because, for various historical and technical reasons, the fables lent themselves to the capacities and technologies of the day once moveable type was created. This is in part because of their brevity, but especially because of how visual they’ve always been. That allowed for this incredibly rich body of work to be created around them, and constantly reinvented. 

As I began to dive into the history of Aesop’s fables primarily at the Huntington Library, one thing that rose to the surface was how these morals that we’ve all grown up with and maybe have even been used to affect our behavior one way or another, have evolved over time. Once we got a bead on that, the project became very interesting because there was an opportunity to approach this in a way that’s relevant to the 21st century; what do these morals look like now? 

Also, because the morals are each self-contained in their way structurally, that allowed us the freedom that we needed to treat them individually. We could be printing each individual folio, which is how we will be presenting them, so that if production was interrupted, we could finish that one folio, pack it aside, move the operation, and pick up with the next folio. It also separated the binding from the printing. Typically when we finish the printing of a book, we have another three months of hand book-binding before the book can be released. But issuing it in a box as a collection of individual folios gave us the elbow room we needed. 

So we had this splashy box and these morals, and both of those things were the anchors for the project. That’s what led us to invite Kiki Smith as the primary visual artist to create a sculptural multiple to define the experience of the box, and to invite Daniel Handler (whom you might know as Lemony Snicket) to reinterpret the morals. We then began to invite other artists that we had worked with in the past to each choose one fable to interpret and create one print that we would print here in the shop by traditional letterpress relief printing techniques. We ended up with 15 artists with Kiki being the 16th, and 41 fables. 

The project allowed us to celebrate our community, it gave us a way to make a statement relevant to a contemporary audience, it gave us the flexibility to dance around the move, and it promised to be a lot of fun in the process.

Featured image above: Nick Bruno/Courtesy of Arion Press

The post Arion Press Keeps the Art of Bookmaking Alive While Looking to the Future appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

“Many of us didn’t fully know what that impact and influence looked like back then, and how it still carries forward,” Sykes told me. “But as we turned more pages and did more research and had more pre-interviews with experts, with curators, with museum owners, with founders of different types of companies, and with artists themselves, we learned more and more and more.” 

It’s through this extensive research process that Sykes and her team honed in on the creation of a two-part zine series entitled, “Legacy: A Modern Renaissance,” designed to shed light on diverse communities through the lens of Black excellence and achievement. These stories highlight the ways that passing wealth to the next generation is fueling community while celebrating the innovative period of Black art, music, poetry, and literature that launched in Harlem, New York, in the 1920s and ’30s. In partnership with U.S. Bank, the campaign is the first of its kind for The New York Times, paying homage to the lasting impact of the Harlem Renaissance and its 100th anniversary through the power of print.

T Brand Studio has commissioned work from Black writers, storytellers, artists, and designers for the two 12-page zines, highlighting the immense contributions of Black creatives to the arts and wider society. The zines feature work from typographer Tré Seals, poet Mahogany L. Browne, cultural critic and writer Michaela Angela Davis, collage artist Magdaline Davis, and photographer Ivan McClellan. The first zine, “Legacy: The Wealth Issue,” was released as a printed insert in The New York Times Sunday issue on August 18, with the second zine, “Legacy: The Culture Issue” set to be distributed with the December 29 print issue. Both zines are now available to view digitally through an innovative online hub unveiled by T Brand Studio last week. The online hub continues the theme and tradition of accessibility that the zine form is already emblematic of. 

To highlight this thoughtful and poignant campaign and continue to honor the lasting legacy of the Harlem Renaissance, I spoke in-depth with Sykes about the Legacy project, from development to distribution. Our conversation is below, lightly edited for clarity and length.  

Let’s rewind to the genesis of “Legacy: A Modern Renaissance” zine series. How did the idea first develop?

This time a year ago, U.S. Bank, who’s our partner for this program, came to us and said, “Hey, can you create a coffee table book?” They understood that The New York Times would be doing an editorial alignment with the 100th anniversary of the Harlem Renaissance. We said, “We could, but as a custom content studio, our lane really evolves around creating storytelling opportunities.” That’s when we started talking about maybe not a coffee table book, but what could be more realistic is a series of zines.

We wanted to bring the story forward. What does this idea of a Modern Renaissance look like? That’s when we came up with a “Legacy Fulfilled.” We wanted to spark this idea of a national dialog to really show and demonstrate that the Harlem Renaissance was this cultural phenomenon that continues today.

This is a first-of-its-kind program for T Brand Studio and U.S. Bank, where every single contributor on our platform and on this content is Black.

What was your T Brand Studio team hoping to accomplish with this project? 

This is a first-of-its-kind program for T Brand Studio and U.S. Bank, where every single contributor on our platform and on this content is Black. We wanted to remove barriers for Black creatives by not only giving them a platform to share new and untold stories but also to say to us, “These are the stories that I want to tell.” It’s a really huge deal.

The series leverages the talents of Black award-winning writers, poets, journalists, photographers, illustrators, and even a typographer, to specifically do a few things: We wanted to build awareness around the impact and influence of the Harlem Renaissance and grant access and opportunity to a new generation of Black cultural thinkers, which we’re really doing in our culture zine. We also wanted to shine a light on Black affluence because that was a specific, targeted area that U.S. Bank wanted us to speak to, and show people that wealth shows up in a myriad of ways. People are building wealth differently today. It’s not just the financial wealth, but it’s also the intellectual capital, and the historical value that brings to bear when we’re talking about inheritance.

We wanted to ask, across poetry and music and art and fashion and culture, What does the Black diaspora look like today, and how is the impact continuing globally? That’s where the zines come into play. 

People are building wealth differently today. It’s not just the financial wealth, but it’s also the intellectual capital, and the historical value that brings to bear when we’re talking about inheritance. 

Why did you decide on the zine form for this project?

The reason we chose zines is that during the Harlem Renaissance, zines were really designed (around 1918 through the 30s) to allow people without a voice to express themselves, to really communicate with others in the community, and lean into their artistry at the same time in a way that they hadn’t been allowed to do. So we said let’s use this idea of the zines as information for what we do today. 

The zines pay homage to the powerful underground press that existed during the Renaissance that became known for delivering prolific poetry and prose, delivering local news, and giving people cultural information. We wanted to create today’s zines to run as an insert inside The New York Times. It runs in a Sunday newspaper for all of our 600,000 home delivery subscribers. Each zine specifically amplifies how the Harlem Renaissance continues to inspire some of our most powerful cultural moments in America. 

Also with these zines, so much of it has been about giving access to people, but it’s also giving space and making space for new voices, for poetry, for prose, for local news, for cultural information. They’re inspired by that tradition that gave birth to this idea of old voices and new voices. So that’s what these zines do; they not only give access and opportunity, but they give space to people whose voices hadn’t been heard and were traditionally not heard in a mainstream environment.

What are some of the stories told within the pages of these zines? 

One is about a Black family of ranchers, The Bradfords— a fourth-generation family of Black ranchers in Oklahoma. I got to go out there and see them, and talk about what it means to really grow the foundation from the roots. What does that mean for family? What does it mean for legacy? What does it mean for the future? In my mind, that was a really important story to tell, and I knew we could do it through Black farmers, who represent less than 1% of all farmers in America today. 

We also spoke with Julian James, who shared a story about inheritance and the idea that money can mean a myriad of things. He had a Movado watch that was passed down to him by his stepfather. He was a man who thought about not the clothes making the man, but the man making the clothes, and how important it was for you to carry yourself as you went out the door. So that was something that Julian took from him, and now he says that every time he wears this watch, he thinks of his stepfather and his legacy. 

We had Mahogany L. Brown, the current poet-in-residence for the Lincoln Center, write a custom poem for the wealth zine, and she said that everything about this project just felt like home to her. Her marching orders were simple: I said, “If Langston Hughes talked about this idea of a “dream deferred,” how do we bring it forward and speak to what a dream fulfilled looks like?” So she took us to Harlem. She took us to education. She took us to inheritance. She took us to all of the places and spaces that Black folks lived in during the Harlem Renaissance and said this is where and how we’re succeeding today. I thought it was a beautiful nod to the Harlem Renaissance, and it really hit on all of the cylinders as it related to this storytelling.

Can you walk me through some of the editorial design decisions that were made when bringing these zines to life? I know you worked with typographer Tré Seals, for example, to create a custom typeface for the project.  

This is a project that is rooted in the research of the Harlem Renaissance. Many of us didn’t fully know what that impact and influence looked like back then, and how it still carries forward, but as we turned more pages and did more research and had more pre-interviews with experts, curators, museum owners, with founders of different types of companies, and artists themselves, we learned more and more and more. 

In that research process we learned that the original zines during the Harlem Renaissance were designed to allow people without a voice to express themselves, to communicate with others in the community, and lean into artistry. We did a handmade approach to texture and color, and used layered compositions as an intentional nod to those artists who had bootstrapped. 

We used custom typography called VTC Sarah, created by Tré Seals, the founder, designer, and typographer at Vocal Type. VTC Sarah was inspired by his great-grandparents. They were entrepreneurs and business owners, and their names were Sarah and Henry Johnson, and they were pillars of their community. They had provided financing and resources to their neighbors when banks wouldn’t, and that really helped facilitate hundreds of purchases and land sales to the Black community. Our art director, Bri Moran, literally held up Tré’s great grandparents’ marriage certificate at one point and said, “This is what is inspiring, the typeface throughout our zines.” So in working with Tré at every iteration, he made sure that the typeface spoke to those words and the stories that we were telling. 

With the zine’s digital hub launching last week and the physical culture zine mailing out in December, can you shed a bit more light on what’s depicted in that issue in particular? 

We’re celebrating what culture looks like through a lot of different Black creatives. It’s an homage to the arts, literature, dance, and music industries created by Black artisans during the Harlem Renaissance. 

Who are some of the creatives featured in the culture zine? 

We asked Emil Wilbekin, the former editor-in-chief of Vibe Magazine who now runs the platform Native Son, to take us back to having a parlor conversation. These were conversations that were happening in speakeasies and basements during the Harlem Renaissance, where people could really talk about the issues of the day. So we said, “What does that look like if we bring that 100 years forward?” Emil helped to not only moderate the conversation with other Black creatives from different fields, but he also was able to facilitate a Q&A at the Freehand Hotel in Manhattan. I loved this conversation. They talked about what the Harlem Renaissance means today, and the impact that the Harlem Renaissance is having on these particular creatives. 

We also talked to Naima J. Keith, an art curator and an educator at LACMA. She talked about paying tribute to the artisans that came before us, and this idea that because of those artisans in particular, now we can talk about skin tones. Now we can talk about Blackness and all of its authenticity, and how that comes to the table today in ways that it wasn’t before. 

Then there’s Shanari Freeman, who’s the executive chef of Cadence in Manhattan, and she talked about the idea of paying homage to the Harlem Renaissance through collaboration. She said that oftentimes we know what to do, but sometimes we don’t necessarily know how to do it, so let’s teach each other this idea of “each one, teach one.” 

Then we have Fredara M. Hadley, who’s an ethnomusicologist over at the Juilliard School. She talked about the idea of how dances from the Harlem Renaissance are being brought back today through troupes like THECouncil, a collective of five black women who are choreographers, producers, and directors who work with global brands and celebrities. 

What was the process like for developing the digital adaptation of the zine? What considerations went into that?

In addition to the print version of the culture issue, people across the globe will have access to a digital, flippable booklet of both zines, and those are going to be housed online, within a New York Times URL that encourages people to learn more about the resources and opportunities offered by U.S. Bank.

We had a long conversation early on about this idea of a digital hub, and I would always say, “Well, what would be the point of us creating something else if we already have our print zines?” And my team explained to me that it’s because not everybody has the same level of access, which is very important here. The one thing that we wanted to do with both of these zines is to give people opportunity and access, not only to the information but to the history. So that’s exactly what the hub is set out to do; now everyone—subscribers and non-subscribers of the New York Times—will be able to have access to it. 

It’s a great opportunity for us as a custom content studio to be able to take these zines and this content in its physical form and then allow it to live on digitally while also giving people this access. That was the lesson learned for us in our wealth zine— people were like, “This is amazing. How do we get it? How do I share it? How do I link to it?” But as opposed to thinking of it as a problem, we saw it as an opportunity in order for the zines to continue to live and give access to everyone.

The post T Brand Studio Celebrates the Centennial of the Harlem Renaissance with Zine Series & Digital Hub appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

While it is vital to acknowledge and celebrate Indigenous cultures no matter the time of year, heading into this beloved yet problematic holiday with a challenge to broaden our awareness is fundamental.

What does this have to do with typography?

I ran across an incredible design and research program from the Netherlands-based foundry Typotheque, helping Indigenous communities reclaim and digitally preserve their language scripts. I spoke with Typotheque collaborator Kevin King. The Canadian designer, calligrapher, and educator is focused on support and research for minority languages through reform to the Unicode text standard, an effort he started while designing the typeface Mazina for his master’s design thesis.

Our conversation is below (lightly edited for clarity and length).

Covering Typotheque’s Zed typeface recently, I was astounded to learn that more than half of the 7,100 (at least) known world languages are endangered. I’d imagine that many of those at risk are centuries—perhaps, millennia—old Indigenous languages. Why is it important to preserve them, particularly in digital contexts such as Unicode?

Yes, indeed, Indigenous languages across the world – not only in North America – are at-risk of being lost within our lifetime, and the importance of Unicode towards the larger narrative of Indigenous language reclamation and revitalization is that without a stable basis for reliable text encoding on all computer devices and software platforms, it is not possible to ensure that remaining fluent speakers, and perhaps more importantly, young language learners, can have a consistent level of access to their language that leads to more engagement and ensures the success of learners to acquire the language and use it ubiquitously in daily life. 

Unicode itself is not enough by itself; the Unicode Standard provides the standardized repertoire of characters that are available for encoding and character data to instruct the behaviour and relationships of the characters, but language tools and our software must implement the Unicode Standard correctly and comprehensively in order to make language access a true reality. This means that major operating systems and applications must also take care to support new character additions to the Unicode Standard and the character data. Keyboards must be available to input those Unicode characters, and fonts must be available that shape how the Unicode “text” should be represented typographically. This is in many cases trivial for “majority” languages across the world; however, for Indigenous languages, it is an all-to-common reality that there may be missing characters from the Unicode Standard, or, that software and language tools (keyboards and fonts) do not accurately support the way text must appear and behave in these languages.

How do you work with Indigenous groups; what does the collaboration look like?

The most essential component of working with Indigenous language communities is building a relationship together that is based on mutual respect and collaboration. We do this by first creating a protocol agreement that outlines our shared goals, values, and desired outcomes for the work, and the key that underpins all of the work is the collaborative nature of everything we do. When working together on a particular initiative, our role is to first listen to the needs of the community about the barriers they may face and to provide our technical knowledge in the form of possible actions to solve the problem. Then, only with permission, can we move ahead to execute a solution that the community has determined is acceptable for them.

Tell us more about your project with the Cherokee and Osage in Oklahoma. 

Our projects with the Cherokee and Osage scripts are slightly different than our work directly with language communities such as the Haíɫzaqv community or the Nattilik community. In these projects, we are working with talented local type designers in each Nation to work together on developing new fonts for each script. Our Cherokee project is led by Chris Skillern, a skilled type designer from Tulsa, Oklahoma, and a member of the Cherokee Nation, who is designing new Cherokee fonts for Typotheque and also conducting research towards typographic preferences for Cherokee syllabary forms. Similarly, our Osage project is led by the talented typographer and designer Dr. Jessica Harjo of the Osage Nation. In this project, Jessica and I work together as a team to develop the Osage typefaces, and our goal is to understand ideal typographic lettershapes for Osage that allow for the best graphic representation of the script for reading.

What makes Indigenous scripts so unique, and what are the challenges in designing digital fonts for them? For example, many (though not all) Indigenous scripts are syllabic.

In the North American context, there are, of course, the wonderful and unique scripts that were developed specifically for Indigenous languages, first the Cherokee by Sequoyah, and then the Syllabics used by First Nations and Inuit communities in Canada, and then more recently, the Osage script. These are graphically distinct writing systems, and for many other Indigenous language communities, variations of the Latin script, with many integrated characters from the Greek script or phonetic notation systems, may be based on that script of European origin; however, they are inherently unique from European language orthographies using the same script.

Specimens from the November (top) and Lava (bottom) typeface Syllabaries

Indeed, these scripts and writing systems all come with their unique design challenges. One major challenge for all is the lack of support for any of these scripts in common font development software. This means that – unlike designing type for other well-supported scripts – it is not possible to open a font editor, populate a character set, and then start drawing glyphs. The designer has to first define a character set and possibly even resolve Unicode-level issues before beginning the design process.

Once one has a character set defined and has worked out the encoding side aspects, there is then also a knowledge issue, or perhaps better put, the lack of knowledge for how to design accurate typefaces that work as users expect and require their typography appear, and generally for how their orthography must work. For example, within the context of the Syllabics, a type designer needs to be aware of inherent orthographic and typographic conventions that are particular to this writing system that affect the logic of how a typeface in this script must work. 

A case in this script is how much wider the word space character needs to be than the Latin script for the legible reading of Syllabics. However, both scripts use the same Unicode character for the word space (U+0020 SPACE) but have conflicting demands. Upon learning this, the type designer may recognize the problem and has several options for how to implement support for this, but they would be missing a key ingredient still in their knowledge of the situation: what practices do language users have when keying in that word space that would affect the design implementation? For example, to avoid a conflict between word space widths, we could create contextual substitutions via OpenType Layout features, which switches the desired glyph between both scripts. However, through our work speaking with many different Syllabics users across many different communities, we know that most users have developed a practice of entering a double spacebar when typing in Syllabics which solves the problem, and we do not have to allocate the time and energy to devise a solution for this but to be aware of the fact that Syllabics require this wider space.

We have tried to contribute to this knowledge by creating this GitHub repository, and we are currently working on a research project (Typotheque Indigenous North American Type) in partnership with First Nations communities that seeks to help build similar knowledge for many other languages and their orthographies that can then allow other type foundries to access this information and implement accurate support for these languages.

Left: A proof showing a comparison of the Lava Syllabics upright and cursive forms, in the Heavy master; Top right: An early sketch made by the author during the initial research phase of the project, exploring potential modulation structures that could be applied to the Lava Syllabics design; Bottom right: An example of the concept of rotation, which sits at the core functionality of Syllabics typography, for any language that uses the writing system.

As a foundry, Typotheque is committed to supporting digitally underresourced languages. How is this labor of love funded, and what are ways that the design industry (companies or individuals) can help and further the effort?

We are certainly passionate about this space of work, and it is an important part of what we do at Typotheque, not only for languages in North America but also for Indigenous and under-represented languages across the world.

All of the work that we do is completely funded internally by Typotheque by using revenue generated from retail font sales and custom project work for clients. In this sense, customers who purchase licenses for our fonts or hire us to do custom typeface work effectively help support this work and allow us to continue the effort. We have also created the Typotheque Club, which is a free club that features talks, rewards, and crowdfunding initiatives, and provides us with another avenue for generating funding for this space of work.

What is something surprising you’ve learned about Indigenous written languages generally (or a specific script) in this research?

Something that is perhaps surprising that I have learned is that – despite such rich orthographic and typographic diversity in the writing systems used by Indigenous languages in North America – the oral language is still always the most important aspect of the language.

I understand you’ve been interested in typeface support for Indigenous languages since your master’s studies. Where is your research taking you now; what’s a dream project you’d love to sink your teeth into?

I’m very grateful to work in this space of Indigenous language support and ultimately, language revitalization and reclamation, where the work has a direct, very tangible, and meaningful impact on people’s daily lives. It’s also part of contributing to society at large and using my design skills to positively support the important work that Indigenous language keepers and communities are undertaking. With that, the current project we are working on at Typotheque and have just begun – Typotheque Indigenous North American Type – would be something that embodies where I wish to focus my efforts, a project to work in partnership to overcome technical issues and understand typographic preferences and requirements with Indigenous communities, alongside looking towards projects designing and developing new and fresh typefaces that support Indigenous languages and their writing systems as standard and ubiquitous parts of these products.

More resources & reading:

November is a typeface designed for signage and information systems, but its orthogonal style is rhythmic in smaller contexts. Zed and award-winning Lava are two additional typefaces supporting Latin and Syllabic Indigenous scripts. Some of the process images included in our feature above are from King’s work on developing a secondary slanted style for Lava.

q̓apkiⱡ Magazine is a recently published, award-winning publication for the Ktunaza community in British Columbia, featuring both November and Lava.

King also wrote comprehensive guidelines for Syllabic typographic development.

The post Typotheque’s Kevin King on Preserving Indigenous Scripts Through Typographic Support appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

Released earlier this month, the gorgeous photo book continues themes Cohen has already mined for years through Advanced Style, in regards to aging with vitality and how important love and connection are at any point in one’s life. As a lifelong animal lover, Cohen wanted to show how pets bring an added dimension of joy and beauty to his vivacious subjects’ worlds.

When I interviewed Cohen for PRINT two years ago, he mentioned Advanced Pets was in the works, and since then I’ve been eager to connect with Cohen again upon its completion. My conversation with the always generous Cohen about Advanced Pets is transcribed below.

(Lightly edited for clarity and length.)

Where did your idea for Advanced Pets originate? 

The common theme throughout my work is love and connection. Whether it’s personal expression which creates connection with other people, or, like in my last book, actual relationships between people, that kind of connection is key to growing older with vitality. I’ve been examining different ways that people stay vital throughout their lives. 

I’ve also loved animals my whole life; I’m a vegan and have had dogs since I was a little boy, so I thought it would be interesting to explore the relationships between the women that I photograph and their own animal companions. Then, because of COVID, I noticed that people got even closer to their animals, and I thought it would be a great time to really explore that. Also, as you get older, oftentimes, unfortunately, a lot of your friends aren’t around anymore, so pets and animals become your companions, company, friends, and family, especially when you’re in isolation.

Can you share more about your love of animals, the dogs you grew up with, your current dog, Vinnie, and how those connections helped fuel this book?

Dogs have been hugely important in my life— animals of all kinds have been, but mostly dogs. I’ve always liked to express myself differently than other people and dress up, and I gravitated toward things that maybe other kids didn’t (antiques, old music); I just always felt a little different. I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up, and I couldn’t wait to come home to the dogs in my life who were my friends, comforted me, and provided fun and joy. 

Throughout our lives, oftentimes people have difficulties connecting with other people or feeling seen or understood. In talking to the ladies and just in my own experience, my dogs have always understood and accepted me without judgment, and I think that’s a very special relationship to have, where it’s just pure love; I see that with the people I featured in this book, too. My dog, Vinnie, is my best friend, and I’ve noticed that same thing with the women that I photograph; how close these relationships are, and how they’re like our family members. They teach us so much about patience and care and provide so much at the same time. 

So much of what you’re saying resonates with me. I’m a single woman who has a lot of close friends, close relationships, and love in my life, but there’s nothing quite like the relationship I have with my cat, Joan Cusack. I’ve had her as long as I’ve lived in LA, about eight years, so she’s this embodiment of my life in LA, in a way, too. It’s hard to put into words. 

Exactly! It is hard to put into words! 

That’s why I think looking to the medium of photography, as you have, is the only way to come close to capturing that connection. 

Our pets are the closest things we have to us. These relationships are so intimate, in terms of the time we spend with them. Some of the ladies say that their pets see them in all their different stages, like as they’re trying on different outfits. Our pets see us in all these different ways that are so different from how other humans see us. 

Our pets see us in all these different ways that are so different from how other humans see us. 

Pets are (seemingly) incapable of judgment, and they see us so clearly in ways that a lot of humans can’t. I think that’s so special, especially for people like the women you’re photographing, who are so distinct and opinionated and unapologetically themselves. Animals, in particular, can accept those qualities in ways that maybe some of the greater public has a mental block about. 

The ladies are sort of outsiders, in a way, because of how they dress. Especially years ago. In their time and even now, they really were rebellious in the way that they were presenting themselves. 

On the photography side of things, how did you go about conceptualizing the photoshoots for the book? What was that process and experience like, especially working with animals as your subjects? 

My work is always a mix of street style and shoots that I do on location in people’s personal spaces or near their homes. For these photos, it was really about spending time to feel the connection between each animal and their person, and then also making space for the animal to be comfortable. 

Each one was very different. It was very similar to my process for making my last book, Advanced Love because I didn’t want to force a specific type of interaction or connection. Also, the animals obviously act differently when I’m there versus when I’m not there. It was always just about trying to capture a moment and love between a person and their pet.

When I was in Florida on a ranch with Sandra and Lucy, for example, cows don’t sit still, so it was a lot of walking around the ranch. Eventually, Lucy sat down, and then Sandra sat down next to her and she started singing to her. In that moment I was able to get my photo.

What about the fashion and styling side of things for the photoshoots? 

I told people to dress their most festive and to really celebrate advanced style. 

Your Advanced Style photos have always been so visually rich, due to the styling of these women and their energy and attitudes. Can you speak to the aesthetic power of pets, and how adding that dimension to your photos elevated them even further?  

When someone is holding their animal, all dressed up, it’s almost like they become a part of them. And through that, their pet becomes a part of what they’re trying to communicate visually. 

I’ve always loved photographs of people and their pets. I have this book called Elegance by the Seeberger brothers who were shooting socialites and rich people on the streets in the 1920s and 30s, and I loved seeing the women all dressed up in their vintage clothing with their dogs. There was this one photo of a woman dressed up in polka dots with her Dalmatian, and that was sort of an inspiration for me. 

There’s a picture of a woman named Rory and her dog Elsa in the book, and they have this connection that is a soul connection. She’s this very fashionable woman in New York and carrying her dog becomes part of the way she’s presenting herself to the world. These women are so visual, so their dogs are part of that. 

Of all of the women and their pets you photographed, is there one photo or pair that you think best encapsulates the Advanced Pets project? 

There are several, but Linda and Lil Buddy embody this project. Linda’s a very dear friend of mine who lives on an island in the northwest, and in spending time with her and Lil Buddy, I saw how their relationship is very similar to how I feel about animals.

I remember being in her garden, and she was holding Lil Buddy with the sun shining down in her arms, and she was just in complete bliss in her garden holding her baby. That was a very special moment of seeing that intimate connection, where the joy was emanating from them and I was able to capture it. That was the embodiment of the project for me. 

Usually I’m just establishing relationships with humans, but now I have all these new animal friends to be connected to.

What has been the most rewarding part of the Advanced Pet process?

It was great to not only get to know new women but also, these animals. Usually, I’m just establishing relationships with humans, but now I have all these new animal friends to be connected to.

In my last book, I was showing that you can find love at any age, and this book is also showing that. My friend Jackie in the book, is in her 70s and was never a dog person until she met Betty, who has brought so much more dimension to her life that she never even knew was possible. I think that’s also a special theme of this project: the possibility that you can have love and connection at any age. 

Header image: Valerie von Sobel

The post Ari Seth Cohen’s New Book Explores Aging with Vitality and Our Pets appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

I grew up with a New York Yankees super fan as a father, who listened to every inning of every game on a hand-held transistor radio pressed up against his ear. The soothing sound of legendary commentator Roger Sterling’s voice is central in the soundtrack of my childhood, crackling through our kitchen and living room airwaves, accompanied by my dad’s whoops and groans.

My dad normalized listening to sporting events on the radio, but I never thought much of it. Recently, however, I came upon the evocative work of the Spanish artist Cassandra Constant, who’s spent much of her art practice contemplating this very concept. In Constant’s hometown of Madrid, the sport they’re listening to on the radio isn’t baseball, but fútbol, which is a much faster-paced and frenetic sport. Constant began to consider how listeners to soccer games on the radio visualized what they were hearing, and took this questioning to her sketch pad.

Since this initial curiosity, Constant has illustrated over 250 soccer games she’s listened to in full. With just pencil and paper, she rapidly sketches the play-by-play relayed to her from the radio, creating a rich world of fútbol frenzy in her finished drawings. Enthralled by her work, I reached out to learn more about her action-packed process.

What’s your personal relationship to soccer? Have you always been a football fan? What team do you support?

I am, first and foremost, an artist who loves movement and color… and football! I was born and brought up in Spain, and here soccer is part of daily life— on the news, the teams, players, scores, watching games on television, or listening to them on the radio.

Growing up, we watched football as a family. My brother supported one team, Real Madrid CF, so of course I had to support the other main Madrid team. That was a long time ago. Following my first art show, a famous footballer (who plays on my brother’s team) bought a painting of mine through one of the chief curators of the Prado Museum. I instantly changed teams to support my new collector!

I would get into a taxi, and the driver would be listening to a match on the radio and I wondered: How does he know where the ball is? 

When and why did you first start drawing football games as you listened to them? What inspired that idea?

As an artist, you have to observe and ask questions and be curious. Often I would get into a taxi, and the driver would be listening to a match on the radio and I wondered: How does he know where the ball is? 

Many years later, I bumped into an old friend in Rio de Janeiro who was a technician for a Spanish radio station and they were covering Real Madrid CF in one of the international competitions. We talked about transmission, how the match was relayed back home, the importance of narrators and commentators, communication and imagination, and how radio illustrates the scene.

Very much an experimentalist, I started putting down some ideas to “illustrate” the radio, beginning with football matches! Drawing soccer players on large pieces of paper, trying soft-ground etching on metal plates and collages, cutting out footballers from newspapers, and also drawing straight onto smooth canvases. But the narration and commentary and the match go very fast! Each game is two 45-minute halves, and there was a lot to capture. So eventually, I settled for A3 size (approx. 11×16 inches), smooth, white paper, using all kinds of writing materials, from black ballpoint pens, Bic blue biros, and now a variety of graphite pencils. I continue to experiment!

How often do you draw games? How many have you drawn so far?

I used to only draw football matches occasionally, and closer to the final stages of competitions: national leagues, European football, and World Cups. Now I find myself drawing all sorts of matches, from those between big rival teams to lesser-known ones.

I now draw, on average, a match a week. I have drawn over 250 matches.

Can you describe your game drawing process? What’s your set-up like as you listen to them on the radio? How have you developed the visual language you use to interpret the games?

Once I know which game I want to draw, set up starts about an hour before the match begins. I usually listen to the top Spanish radio station for sports, but also Talksport and BBC5 Live. I find out who’s in the initial starting teams, and write the names on paper so I know who’s going to be running in which direction!

Then I get an A3 size paper and quickly note down the competition, stadium, teams, name of referee, roughly draw club emblems, an outline of the pitch, goalposts, and the benches. I turn the paper upside down, the match starts, and we’re off! It’s fast, there are passes from left to right, back towards the goals, long balls, players whose names I cannot grasp, the kits, and what colors the goalkeepers are wearing, and I am grateful when I hear it’s a throw-in, a corner, offside, foul, yellow card; that’s when I start getting an idea of what’s happening! 

There are goals, injuries, red cards (occasionally), players come off the pitch, and new ones come on. Depending on the radio station, this can be interspersed with advertisements, calling of winning lottery numbers, the number of people in the stadium, football gossip, transfer news, VIPS in the stands, what players have just had a baby, endless statistics, and records broken— you get the picture. I love it! There’s a rhythm and it’s all very intense!

I think playing football is really difficult! It involves so many components, organization, and strategies, from players, coaches, medical practitioners, nutritionists, PRs, designers, and more to plenty of staff to manage it all. There are many more aspects I have yet to explore!

Why have you decided to keep your interpretation of the games to just pencil and paper, only using a red marker to indicate goals? What does that sketchy style bring to the way you portray the games?

The sketchy style is the result of “illustrating” a game, which takes place in less than two hours: fast, speedy, energetic, dynamic, and intense, trying to capture as much as possible. I assure you, I end up exhausted!

I’m not sure whether I should continue to outline the goals scored in red. Maybe that’s one of those questions I can ask on social media: Better in red or not? What do you think?

I feel I am contributing something to art and to football. Sharing the experience means a lot to me.

Are you surprised by the public reception of your game sketches? How has the success of your work felt?

I’m not really sure how many people have seen my drawings. What I can tell you is that when people first see them, they seem perplexed and not too sure what they are looking at. But when they realize, or when I explain it to them, they love the concept. This makes me happy, as I feel I am contributing something to art and to football. Sharing the experience means a lot to me.

I have had many enquiries about the drawings and had conversations with fans from different clubs, which I find very enriching. I am interested in the histories and values of these clubs. 

At the moment, I am in the process of setting up a website offering a selection of matches which I hope will be ready later in November.

Header image: 2022 World Cup Final; Argentina vs. France

The post Cassandra Constant Visualizes Soccer Game Radio Broadcasts with Pencil and Paper appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

The New Look of Money

Remember when financial brands looked like, well, financial brands? They evoked trust and solemnity in shades of blue, with clean layouts and sophisticated type conveying decades (centuries-even) of dependability. Chime and Klarna are rewriting the rulebook, building sleek, mobile-first apps that feel more like social media platforms than bank branches. Chime uses inviting, saturated colors and uncluttered visuals, making money management feel intuitive and, dare I say, friendly. Klarna has also nailed the balance of simplicity and style but with a hint of playfulness. It’s as if these brands are saying, “Money doesn’t have to be a chore,” which resonates deeply with a generation empowered by quick, user-centric digital experiences.

Chime brand refresh by jkr.

Radical Transparency

Klarna stands out here with its “Pay Later” options, which are communicated upfront and without fuss. It’s all about empowering the user with knowledge and then trusting them to make informed decisions. On the crypto side, transparency is even more crucial given the complexity and volatility of the market. The best crypto brands don’t just list risks; they break down what those risks mean in a practical way, bridging the gap between excitement and informed caution. It’s refreshing to see brands lean into candor, and young consumers are responding with trust.

Klarna brand by their in-house team.

Personalized and Empowering Tools

For many young people, managing finances still feels intimidating. Enter brands like Check My File, which offers simple, comprehensive views of credit standing across multiple agencies. The service is not just about delivering numbers; Check My File offers insights, making credit monitoring feel like a useful, even empowering habit. Personalization isn’t just about flashy algorithms; it’s about creating tools that users actually find helpful and that build loyalty in an authentic way. For younger audiences, this type of personalization makes finances feel less abstract and more like something they can control.

Check My File brand by Ragged Edge.

Creating Community and Social Connection

It’s no secret that social media plays a major role in how young people make financial decisions, and these brands are tapping into that big time. Klarna and 1inch are turning financial management into a shared experience. Klarna, for instance, collaborates with influencers and uses a social commerce approach, embedding itself into the lifestyle and aesthetic young people are drawn to. Meanwhile, 1inch builds communities for shared learning, making finance feel inclusive rather than exclusive. These new brands are not just selling services; they’re creating spaces where people feel a sense of belonging (and dare we say, fun!), even when dealing with something as traditionally daunting as personal finance.

1inch campaign by Talent in collaboration with the Bruce Lee family

These fresh brand aesthetics and marketing strategies signal that financial companies are finally catching on to what young audiences have long wanted: accessibility, straight talk, personalization, and community. By embracing the values of younger audiences, financial brands can become more like guides than institutions. And as they continue to evolve, it’ll be exciting to watch just how far this new wave of finance brands can take us.

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The Artifacts from the Eames Collection is a series of catalogs that comprehensively documents pieces from the Eames Institute collection, making these iconic designs more widely accessible to all, thus further advancing the legacy of 20th-century designers Ray and Charles Eames.

The Eames Institute has already offered themed virtual exhibitions and is thrilled to continue its growth into the physical print medium. Forty-thousand+ objects have been lovingly collected, preserved, restored, and documented by the Eames Institute so far, with Artifacts from the Eames Collection presenting curated selections from these objects in six thematically themed catalogs: Tables, Ray’s Hand, Eames Aluminum Group, Toys & Play, Steinberg Meets the Eames, and Postcards. (The first five have already been released, with the Postcards catalog coming soon.) Many of the objects featured in these editions have never been seen before, and all have been newly photographed to highlight design details.

Each catalog includes an introductory note from Llisa Demetrios, Chief Curator of the Eames Institute and granddaughter of Ray and Charles, and an essay written by a leading design expert. The catalogs also present a variety of archival material and photography from the Eames Office, Library of Congress, and the archives of Herman Miller and Vitra.

The catalogs are softcover with a short cover wrap and a special insert and range from 122–172 pages. They are available for purchase from the Eames Institute here.

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Founded in 1968, Studio Museum in Harlem stands as the nexus for artists of African descent. As a studio, it funds emerging artists and offers them studio space, and as a museum, it curates a compelling collection supporting underrepresented artists. It’s a place for stirring conversations and a hub for dynamic exchanges and sharing ideas about art and society.

Preparing to move and transition to a more formal posture, the Studio Museum tapped Base Design to help them redesign the website to align with its evolving mission. Established in 1993, Base Design is an international network of creative studios that focuses on cultural impact through simple yet imaginative brand narratives. The impressive client list includes Apple, The New York Times, MoMA, Bob Dylan Center, NY Mets, JFK Terminal 4, and Union Square Hospitality Group.

Base Design’s innovative website redesign for the cultural institution earned the company first place in the PRINT Awards IX/UX Design category.

Studio Museum’s aim for the project was to achieve greater accessibility for a broader community. Inspired by Harlem’s iconic brownstone stoop, the website design transforms into a dynamic meeting place, echoing the lively streets with sounds and voices.

Embracing noise as a concept, the team digitally mirrored the museum’s living space, presenting artworks immersed in the context of neighboring creations. Shifting the focus from artworks to the artists themselves, the new website features engaging video and audio clips within the margins—peripheral “chatter” to capture the animated essence of the Studio Museum’s setting.

It’s been a century since the Harlem Renaissance, a period widely remembered as a golden age for African American art, literature, music, and performance. Though, we’d argue there’s a new renaissance afoot, one that we’ll be talking about one hundred years from now, with Studio Museum in Harlem at the center, its gleaming new building, and Base Design’s dynamic website carrying the banner.

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Since its founding in 1969, L’eggs has been a trailblazer in hosiery, famously breaking ground as the first pantyhose brand sold in grocery stores, with its unforgettable egg-shaped packaging. The brand quickly became synonymous with accessibility and everyday style, revolutionizing how women shopped for and wore hosiery. Now, with a refreshed identity, L’eggs is embracing its legacy while stepping forward to captivate a new generation.

Téllez pulled out the stops for this reimagining, bringing in design firm Family Office — started by ex-Collins designer, Diego Segura — along with Britt Cobb, formerly of Pentagram, and type designer Schwartz, the creative mind behind The Guardian, Esquire, and T Magazine. Together, the team had one goal: update L’eggs’ legendary wordmark while preserving its distinctive charm.

Britt was tasked with updating the logo without losing its original charm, inviting Schwartz to subtly redraw and refine the letterforms. Schwartz’s adjustments included fine-tuning proportions, relaxing some of the old-school rigidity, and transforming the uppercase “L” to lowercase for a more flexible and approachable look.

For L’eggs, which pioneered the hosiery market in 1969, this redesign nods to both heritage and adaptability. The updated logo keeps its retro spirit intact, while making it at home in today’s digital and physical spaces. In its quiet way, L’eggs continues to show that the best updates don’t replace the old—they just give it room to breathe.

Project Credits

Executive Creative Director: Cami Téllez, L’eggs
Brand Identity: Family Office (Collins alumni, Diego Segura and Eliz Akgün)
Wordmark: Cobbco (Pentagram alumni, Britt Cobb, Jonny Sikov, and Commercial Type’s Christian Schwartz) + Family Office.

The post L’eggs’ Iconic 70s Logo Gets a Modern Twist appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

In a snapshot of today’s AI-driven design landscape, over 10,000 designers from 135 countries shared their thoughts, and the results are clear: designers are finding that a future with AI could be, well, pretty darn exciting.

The survey reveals that over half (52%) of freelancers are now harnessing generative AI to level up their work—up from 39% last year. And they’re not just dabbling; they’re diving in with excitement. A whopping 56% say they’re thrilled about the potential of AI in their field, with most using it to brainstorm ideas, knock out copy, or take care of mundane tasks (hello, automation).

But it’s not just excitement for efficient practices in their work; it’s dollars and sense, too. For 61% of freelancers, AI has already impacted their income, up from 45% in 2023, and nearly half expect the tech to give their earnings a boost down the line. Sure, a third of responders are a bit anxious about AI’s economic effect, but optimism appears to rule the day.

“Disruption in the design industry is something we’ve all experienced first hand,” says 99designs by Vista CEO Patrick Llewellyn. “We believe in the power of human creativity, and it’s inspiring to see both the excitement and pragmatic approach to the opportunities created by this new technology. These optimistic survey results, alongside the fact that our designer community has now earned over half a billion dollars through the platform, reassure us that while the landscape is evolving, the future of design is bright.”

The combined optimism and pragmatism of designers suggests an evolution rather than a revolution. And with designers’ earnings on the platform recently surpassing a cool $500 million, the data points to a future where AI may just be the paintbrush to human innovation’s canvas.

In an industry that’s no stranger to disruption, it seems designers are welcoming AI as a collaborator, not a competitor. And with the majority looking to upskill and keep pace, they’re proving that AI might just be the muse that creativity’s been waiting for.

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Those who were there remember that compulsive uncovering of the new. Take the genres of the time—jungle, ragga, drum n’ bass, goa trance, hard house, French house, tech step, hard step, and on and on. The distinctions don’t seem important now, but at the time this was important stuff. Once a sound was conquered, the rules and norms were drawn up, and with boundaries in place, they were abandoned for new sounds.

Amongst all that discovery, no one took sound farther afield than a group of electronic musicians in Cologne in the mid-1990s, and one designer was responsible for creating their record art. From their perch on the shelves of the new and still slim electronic music section of the record store, Frieda Luczak’s designs pulled us in and introduced us to the new and indescribable.

Her covers from that time capture what brought people to that specific type of left-field music. Not a love of technology, but a new form of beauty that only technology could allow—an alien kind of beauty.

“Frieda is a curious mind,” says Jan St. Werner of the electronic duo Mouse on Mars, “as modest and cautious as she’s into change and new ways to see and do things.” She doesn’t have much of an ego, he adds, “We surely forgot her name a few times on projects, sleeves, etc. and she had never been upset about it.” Luczak who describes herself as “much fantasy, much anxiety,” was born in an evolving rural Düsseldorf that was home to a strange mix of professional commuters and villagers. A next-door neighbor would shoot into a cherry tree to keep the birds from eating the cherries. There, she was first exposed to design through the Letraset letters her father, “an architect with talents in designing futuristic living spaces, but with two left hands,” used for his building plans.

After a rigorous design program at university, she took a break and moved to Cologne, where she would fall in with a community centered around A-Musik, an independent record store and label for experimental music. In the avant-garde, she says, “Money isn’t the key, but changing views of what beauty is.” Amongst their activities—exhibitions, publications, filmmaking, and concerts—Luczak soon found herself as their cover artist. After being introduced by another designer, Mouse on Mars instantly knew they wanted to work with her. She became the designer for Mouse on Mars, St. Werner’s solo work, his label Sonig, and other associated acts, making covers, posters, stickers, ads, and merch.

Her covers from that time capture what brought people to that specific type of left-field music. Not a love of technology, but a new form of beauty that only technology could allow—an alien kind of beauty. Inspired by the destructive punk art and home computer craft, and after what she calls, “absolutely unleashed discussions about why one detail is more inventive than another,” she designed some of the most beautiful and imaginative record covers of the ‘90s. “We wanted to have no reference to anything we had previously done,” she said. St. Werner recalls “playing her our music, telling her the ideas we had around the songs, how they had come about technically, the threads and revelations we had while recording them.” These discussions could have gone on for years and only stopped because of deadlines. 

“We never thought of sleeve art as something that would sell the music,” St. Werner says, “but rather [it would] tell its own story in dialogue with the music.” Tom Steinle, who hired her to do covers for several Tomlab records for artists like The Books, also says Luczak’s work was “a second artistic layer,” but adds that she “had a talent for developing a brand for the musician.” 

I first encountered Luczak’s work in a small record store in a small Vermont town. It called to me plain and simple, probably because it looked absolutely nothing like trees. Life in Vermont, and all printed matter associated with it, looks like trees. Logcabin.ttf, I’m looking at you. Luczak’s work was pure alien. How did this weird music and art make it from Cologne to New England? Like all great artistic revolutions this period had a lot to do with the supply chain. Specifically, CDs, those beautiful iridescent disks where music was data. The profit margins were much greater, and CDs could be produced much quicker, so the major labels installed CDs as the ruling format of the era. With the addition of new digital recording and mastering technologies, suddenly the overhead for an independent record label became much lower. If you had a unique vision, you could have one tool. Maybe more than punk, this was independence. CDs, that’s how new ideas were distributed and conversations could play out between restless artists across the world.

Luczak created the packaging for influential albums by Markus Popp, recording under the moniker Oval, whose early records were constructed out of sounds from scratched CDs. Popp would talk about “music as software” and “file management.” That sounds pointy-headed, but the records are carefully composed, abstractly beautiful, and quite listenable despite coming with a hefty thesis. But that listenability was obvious from Luczak’s album art. Using a copy of Cinema4D, which she didn’t quite know how to use (and which looked very different than today’s C4D), she built lush, organic landscapes out of pixelated 3D forms and somehow seemed to reference both Cy Twombly and Microsoft Excel graphs. The writer Mark Richardson, who wrote a feature on Oval’s second album for Pitchfork 20 years after its release, describes it as, “the tension between digital precision and the uncertainty of nature… Luczak’s imagery captured this dichotomy beautifully.”

Tim Saputo, a designer and former Art Director of electronic music magazine XLR8R, says that her records, “tap into an impossible beauty, objects and color bloom and blur. They suggest a freeze frame of some kind of dance, there is so much movement and beauty, and I think it lends those Oval records a certain softness and expansiveness that I don’t know if it would be present if it wasn’t presented with such grace.” 

There seems to be so much depth to these covers because they were mere snapshots of an expansive world developed through a years-long collaboration between Luczak and Oval. Popp explains that he would imagine a scene—a virtual location—and then Luczak would attempt to realize it. They would explore and document this environment by capturing stills using the software’s virtual camera. “We developed these fantastical 3D worlds, following the logic of an imaginary… game engine.” He points out that this was “decades before 3D game engines like Unity were on the horizon” and adds that he doubts Luczak has ever played a modern immersive video game.

Her designs and design language would also extend to the user interface of Oval’s Ovalprocess software, an interactive musical tool that allowed users to create their own version of Oval’s music. This software was made available in several art installations that featured a large sculptural kiosk—a small part of the world they built made tangible through 3D printing.

Left: Ovalprocess software’s user interface, 2002; Right: The Ovalprocess software’s help screen, 2002

Her work for Mouse on Mars is some of her most noteworthy. Like the band itself (which can go from a sound that I can only describe as a “tiny squish” to a full marching band in a matter of seconds), her work dips in and out of abstraction and joyful associations. Her cover for the US release of Niun Niggung features a crude, amoeba-like 3D hairbrush combing what is presumably hair. As a bonus, the liner notes were a fold-out poster of the hairbrush in an oddly intimate position with another hairbrush. St. Werner suspects but does not know for sure, that the cover features an image of Gerhard Schröder, the German chancellor at the time. Unlike the maximalism of this 3D work, her designs on their Idiology and Agit Itter It It albums were flat black-and-white dadaism via MacPaint and seemed to predict the anti-design of studios like Hort.

Left: Cover of Niun Niggung (1999) by Mouse On Mars, released by Thrill Jockey in the USA; Right: Poster insert of Niun Niggung (1999) by Mouse On Mars, released by Thrill Jockey in the USA.

Left: Cover of Agit Itter It It (2001) by Mouse On Mars, released by Thrill Jockey in the USA; Top right: Cover of Diskdusk (1999) by Mouse On Mars, released by Sonig in Europe; Bottom right: Record label of Diskdusk (1999) by Mouse On Mars, released by Sonig in Europe.

Today, Luczak has no social media (“too shy,” she says) and primarily focuses on corporate design work. One of her most important clients is a funeral home. She tells me, “The key is empathy and modernity,” when working with a funeral home. While the music industry has changed, and there’s less design floating in its orbit, she’s still designing records. The back cover of  Kid Millions and Jan St. Werner’s Imperium Droop is a pattern that is hard to place. It could be Mesoamerican-inspired? Or maybe thermal imaging of a refrigerator evaporator coil? From this pattern, two glyphs are placed on the front cover, perplexing, totemic, and mischievous as ever.

Left: Front cover of Imperium Droop (2021) by Kid Millions & Jan St. Werner, released by Thrill Jockey; Right: Back cover of Imperium Droop (2021) by Kid Millions & Jan St. Werner, released by Thrill Jockey.

I no longer have a CD collection, but I do have one CD, Oval’s Szenariodisk—a digipak, made of print cardboard that, unlike a plastic jewel case with a locking mechanism, swings open naturally like a book. For this article, I had to rebuild this design from Luczak’s ancient QuarkXpress file and discovered a beautiful hidden forest. Not a metaphorical forest of meaning, but an actual photo of a forest hidden in the design, mapped onto 3D cubes. Twenty-five years later, I fell in love all over again. 

Left: Record label of Szenario Europa (1999) by Oval, released by Form & Function in Europe; Right: Record label of Szenario USA (1999) by Oval, released by Thrill Jockey in the USA. Note the subtle type changes.

Why is this work so interesting all these years later? Tom Steinle explains it like this (although many others I spoke to said the same thing): Luczak always focused on the content of the object she was designing, not what was happening around her aesthetically at the time. What was happening around her at the time? Mostly the cool, ironic corporatism best embodied by studios like The Design Republic. TDR loved to revel in the transactional nature of the whole thing, but, to be fair, that was another thing CDs are known for. Luczak’s work isn’t couched in irony—she seems unable to approach anything with irony. Her work is earnest and big-hearted. And so this is a story of genre. You can borrow some of the genre’s energy, some of its buzzy interest, and put it right into your own work free of charge. But that energy is on loan and you must give it back. One day, sooner than you think, it will look tired. This is what the economic philosopher Thorstein Veblen describes as “the process of developing an aesthetic nausea.” And it is doubly true if you borrow from a genre in revival. Luczak never touched that genre stuff; she was too curious for that, and it helped that the musicians she worked with were too. This is the real work of creativity: to make the unknown so beautiful and intriguing that we are lured farther and farther into the new.

Phillip Nessen is a Brooklyn-based designer, strategist, and educator. He is the founder of Nessen Company, a studio with a focus on building distinctive, performant brands and consumer packaged goods.

Header image: Promotional poster for Ovalcommers (2001) by Oval, released by Form & Function in Europe.

The post Beautiful Unknown: The Y2K Album Cover Art of Frieda Luczak appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

Trend forecasting season is upon us, and with it, we get a glimpse of what will be big in the next year or so. Whether it’s emerging styles, innovative new materials, or broader industry shifts, trend reports are a useful starting point for us creatives – particularly at the beginning of new projects. It’s how we look for new streams of innovation, where we go for visual inspiration, and preempt what’s going to resonate with the audiences we’re trying to win over.

But they can be flawed, too. Everyone uses them – which can lead to homogeneity – and they often look backward. How many times have we heard that ‘co-creation’ and ‘slow living’ are going to be big? To what extent can we actually feed these themes into a brand’s creative process to create something fresh and unique?

At the core of everything we do is truly understanding our audiences. We need to know who they are, what they’re into, what they want. We need to be so attuned with the zeitgeist that we know what they need before perhaps even they do. Looking at trend reports can be helpful indicators, as is the industry’s go-to consumer analysis and competitor research. But beyond that, we need to be looking at culture – at the smaller pockets of activity that are driving larger cultural shifts and turning these insights into creative opportunities that cut through.

Reading the Zeitgeist

A good (and often overlooked) place to start is digging into online communities and forum threads like Reddit and Tattle to gather authentic, real-time insights into consumers’ pain points, desires, and expectations. By looking for recurring themes in discussions and paying attention to what products, features, or topics generate the most buzz, brands can anticipate what will resonate most with their audience.

It’s something that Lucky Charms did well. After spotting how deep rooted the cereal’s ‘marbits’ (marshmallow pieces) appreciation was among fans, LOVE worked with Lucky Charms to create limited-edition marbit-only packs. The response to these was wild – revealing the kind of hype usually reserved for fashion and streetwear drops. The Instagram post announcing the launch became the brand’s most-liked post ever (with no spend attached) and was reposted by many fans, including celebrities like Cardi B.

My point is you need to go where the people are. If you want to appeal to the Chinese consumer, read a trend report that gives you an overview of the most current themes. However, to be more successful, you must embed yourself in these communities, using popular platforms like Weibo and WeChat to get a richer understanding of the culture. What music are they listening to? What TV do they watch? What’s their sense of humor like? Which subcultures are emerging?

Some brands are going one step further, even building these online communities themselves. Take LEGO, which has created a crowdsourcing platform called ‘LEGO Ideas,’ allowing anyone to submit potential ideas for new sets. If an idea receives over 10,000 votes, the LEGO board reviews it; if the idea is accepted, the creator receives 1% of the product’s revenue and a credit in the instructions. This direct engagement with its audience means that LEGO always knows what it wants and can make sure to deliver it.

Creating New Aesthetics from Deeper Insights

These types of insights can also act as signposts for new visual directions. Vacation sunscreen is a great example of this. Noticing a growing wave of nostalgia for simpler times and a romanticizing of the past amidst the turbulence of the last few years, Vacation set out to make sunscreen fun again. The entire brand looks like a time capsule from 80s Miami, tapping into the kitsch of retro ads like those for Club Med, tied together with over-the-top ridiculousness that brings humor back to the category. It sticks because there’s a wider awareness there – the brand recognizes its role in the world and, therefore, isn’t selling itself as ‘truly life-changing’ or ‘an absolute must-have.’ Instead, the brand is saying that we know people are in need of some fun, and we’re here to bring that.

This summer, Charli XCX’s ‘Brat’ brought a similar cultural awareness. The brat aesthetic didn’t just fall out of the coconut tree. It plays into the desire for messiness, chaos, and non-conformity that’s taking over various corners of the internet. It’s a response to the millennial minimalism and perfectly curated online personas that dominated the 2010s, which many have grown tired of – especially as AI now poses the biggest threat to authenticity. Brat’s identity — its acid green and blurry typeface, mixed with its noughties excess and rave culture — took off because it was in tune with the current mood. This was only amplified when Charli started posting various memes and dances that turned brat into a viral phenomenon. She knows her fans, and she knows what they want. How? Because she spends time with them where they are.

So, while trend reports can offer a helpful starting point, real creative impact comes from getting closer to your audience by understanding their world and what really matters to them. Creative impact is about going beyond the predictable and tapping into the undercurrents of culture that trend reports often miss, using what you find to create experiences for people that actually connect. In doing this, we can help brands stand above the noise, create more meaningful relationships with audiences, and build lasting impressions.

Steve Pearce is the managing director at LOVE, a culture-first brand design and experience agency. A believer in big ideas, Steve champions brands brave enough to be disruptive, helping the likes of Jaguar, Land Rover, LVMH, and Nike achieve commercial success.

Header image: LOVE rediscovered Andy Warhol’s inclusive take on beauty to create a striking new concept for SK-II. All images courtesy of LOVE.

The post Your Trend Reports Aren’t Cutting It appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

For deeper insight into this evolution, I turned to some of the branding industry’s most prominent voices to explore how gender and identity are shaping political branding today. These design leaders shared their take on everything from the challenges of timing to the balance between visual consistency and policy focus to the future of branding for women in politics.

Our lineup includes Jessica Walsh, founder of the creative agency &Walsh (top left), Jolene Delisle, founder and head of brand creative at The Working Assembly (top middle), Holly Willis, founder of Magic Camp (top right), Ruth Bernstein, CEO of Yard NYC (bottom left), and Jaime Robinson, founder and CCO of JOAN (bottom right).

We asked, and, wow, they delivered! Their responses have been condensed and lightly edited for length and clarity.

How does the increasing alignment between political candidates and personal brand strategies, especially in the cases of Hillary Clinton and Kamala Harris, reflect a shift in how voters perceive leadership qualities?

Jessica Walsh: The way political candidates are now using personal branding is a lot like how companies build their brands to connect with customers. Candidates like Hillary Clinton and Kamala Harris are doing more than just talking about policies—they’re creating a narrative around who they are, their values, and their image to really connect with voters on a personal level. It’s similar to how brands tell a story to make you care about their product.

“Clinton’s pantsuits, for example, became a symbol of her identity, just like Harris’s story as the daughter of immigrants and her career as a prosecutor became key parts of her brand. This shift shows how candidates are using personal storytelling and visual cues, not just policy, to create trust and stand out in a crowded political field, much like a company would build loyalty with its customers.”

— Jessica Walsh

Jaime Robinson: Personal brand has always been huge for presidential candidates. Who can forget the Camelot visions of JFK and Jackie Kennedy?  The old Hollywood glamor of Ronald Reagan? Bill Clinton’s “cool guy prez” saxophone and sunglasses moment? 

What we’re seeing today that IS exceptional is that the personal brands of presidential candidates are being absorbed by their audiences as part of their OWN brands and identities….  who in turn reflect their own versions of the brand… which in turn influences the candidate’s brand, and so forth.

Donald Trump has become more blustery and right-wing as his audience paints him that way.  Kamala Harris has become more BRAT with each passing meme. And their fans – because that’s what they are, fans, not constituents  – become even more entrenched in the brand narratives that the candidates are spinning and reflecting back.

Ultimately, it’s showbiz, where Brand reigns supreme.

Jaime Robinson

Jolene Delisle: Personal branding is more important than ever, and as we see in almost every industry, it bleeds into your professional reputation as well. Especially as women, it has the power to shape the narrative, good or bad.

Holly Willis: The alignment of personal branding with political strategy speaks to a broader evolution in how voters perceive leadership. Today, candidates are expected to resonate not only through policies but also through personal narratives and cultural fluency.

One trend we’re seeing, particularly from millennials and Gen Z, is an expectation for leaders to be culturally aware and socially attuned. For many in these generations, cultural literacy in a candidate signals empathy and adaptability, qualities seen as essential in navigating today’s rapid social shifts. Harris has engaged with this expectation by leaning into modern cultural references—such as “brat summer” or her appearance on Call Her Daddy—to connect with younger audiences. On the other hand, Donald Trump’s appearances on podcasts like Theo Von’s reflect an appeal to a younger, more skeptical demographic, reinforcing his base while broadening his reach.

This approach raises an important question: if candidates are not engaged with the cultural zeitgeist, does that make them less attuned to future generations’ needs? For political leaders, balancing generational appeal is no small feat. In contrast to brands that target Gen Z for long-term loyalty, political campaigns must manage the tension between Gen Z’s social influence and the reliable voting power of older generations.

Leadership perception is increasingly shaped by empathy, cultural understanding, and relatability. As candidates integrate personal narratives within broader sociopolitical contexts, it underscores a shift toward leadership that prioritizes genuine connections with diverse communities, moving beyond policy alone.

Does focusing on personal identity as part of a candidate’s brand strengthen or dilute their political message, and how can candidates ensure their brand resonates without alienating key voter demographics?

Walsh: Yes! Focusing on personal identity as part of a candidate’s brand can strengthen their message by making them more relatable and authentic to voters. However, it can also dilute the focus on their policies if not handled carefully as they need to integrate their personal story and brand in a way that complements their political platform rather than overwhelming it.

“In today’s world, I don’t think a candidate can even be heard unless they develop a brand, and remain true to it. And while Kamala Harris might risk alienating voters when she dances or belly laughs at a joke, the WAY bigger risk is being boring. This has been true for a few decades. Who can forget snoozy John Kerry or Al Gore? (or maybe you CAN forget them, and that’s the problem?)

But I’ll even go a step further…

Today, personal brand IS the political message.” 

— Jaime Robinson

Jaime Robinson: Kamala’s converse and meme-ified social presence signals she’s for a younger, more progressive future. And Donald Trump, shutting down his town hall after four questions and then swaying awkwardly to a 1990s Andrea Bocelli ballad, says he’s content looking backwards.

Delisle: We are in unprecedented times where running for political office is like running in some ways in a popularity contest, and it has less to do with the political objectives and policy and more with how people “feel about someone.”

It’s alienating to me as a voter because these are public service jobs, and the fact that most of the commentary online and on television is about someone’s likability is really sad.

Jolene Delisle

Willis: The integration of personal identity into political branding has become a more sophisticated exercise, reflecting a shift in both strategy and voter expectations. Modern candidates face the challenge of weaving their identity into their campaigns in ways that resonate authentically, yet don’t overshadow the substance of their policies. This balancing act is increasingly crucial as younger generations, especially Gen Z and Millennials, value leaders who are socially and culturally engaged while also addressing issues with depth and relevance.

In recent years, political figures have embraced subtler forms of identity politics—where their personal stories, values, and cultural touchpoints are integrated naturally into their campaigns rather than positioned as the primary focus. This approach allows candidates to embody key aspects of their identity in ways that enhance relatability without detracting from the core message.

This evolution underscores a strategic shift: instead of directly emphasizing aspects of identity like gender or ethnicity, candidates increasingly use cultural moments and platforms to convey these elements implicitly.

Holly Willis

This approach reflects a larger trend where identity becomes a part of the fabric of a candidate’s brand without dominating it, allowing for a broader, more inclusive reach. By engaging with diverse media channels, like podcasts that resonate with distinct demographics or tapping into trending topics, candidates can address different voter needs without isolating any particular group. It is also reflective of a deeper understanding that leadership is not solely about direct representation. It’s about showing an awareness of and alignment with the broader cultural landscape.

For future candidates, the challenge will be finding ways to make personal identity resonate across various voter demographics. To achieve this, candidates can look at how consumer brands blend authenticity with relevance — using personal stories to establish a connection, but grounding that connection in the shared values of their audience.

Harris’s campaign appears to subtly embody modern feminism without directly emphasizing gender, unlike Clinton’s more explicit feminist branding. How does this reflect the changing role of identity politics in shaping brand strategy, and how might this influence the future branding of female candidates?

Walsh: Kamala Harris’s subtle embrace of modern feminism, without directly emphasizing gender, reflects a shift in how identity politics shape political branding. Unlike Hillary Clinton’s more explicit feminist messaging, Harris integrates her identity in a way that feels natural and resonates with a diverse yet increasingly scrutinizing voter base. This approach signals a new trend for female candidates, where they can highlight their identity without making it the focal point of their campaign, allowing them to appeal to a broader audience. By focusing on qualifications and policy, while still embracing their personal story, candidates can balance the celebration of diversity with the need to connect on issues that matter to a wide range of voters.

Robinson: It’s smart that Harris isn’t playing on gender, and also a sign of the times. Hillary Clinton was running during a cultural moment where gender identity and struggles were front-page headlines. They were the big news.

That moment has passed, and it would seem outdated if Kamala Harris leaned on being a woman. In fact, today, Harris has a better chance of getting elected if she doesn’t go into gender identity. She knows she needs to dial up a more relevant aspect of her personal demographics  – that she’s younger than her opponent by 20 years, with a spirit to match.  She’s leaning into the memes, the BRAT, the inside jokes. She is signaling that she’s for the future, not for the past.

When she wins, we’ll celebrate that she’s a woman. Not a second before that.

Jaime Robinson

Bernstein: Kamala running for President as a woman isn’t seen by the American public as such a big deal because Hilary already did it. Hillary comes from a different generation. Her feminism was defined by needing to play in a man’s world. She had to play by men’s rules and ‘man up.’ She broke the glass ceiling in her run for President. Her feminism was about fighting for women’s rights and the need to show a woman could do a man’s job.

Kamala comes to a Presidential race by not having to play the same game that Hillary did.  She embodies another generation – GenX vs Boomer. She understands that to win as a brand, she needs to be defined relative to her competition. Being a woman is irrelevant. Her brand is “not Trump.” And her age is more important than her gender – it’s what also separates her from Trump and Biden.

Running on one’s identity now – and in the future – is not enough. Voters today are not choosing a candidate based on gender alone.

Ruth Bernstein

This is a different race. This is a changing of a generation. These are the moments when choice can’t be defined by identity. This is a race that is bigger than that.

“It’s interesting in the summer of Brat/Demure we almost have that prime example of the shift with the two candidates. Hillary was definitely in her demure era; she was trying to play nice and stick to the typical playbook. Harris’s campaign has definitely embraced the Brat vibes and is decidedly more on the offense, and is really embracing social, memes and culture. It’s been cool to see how fast her team can create response content and immediately jump into the conversation. It’s an incredible brand strategy, and I think it will definitely influence how candidates, both male and female, activate and strategize their social in the future.“

— Jolene Delisle

Willis: Kamala Harris’s campaign underscores a shift in how gender is integrated into political branding. Where Clinton’s explicit feminist messaging highlighted her role as a groundbreaking figure for women, Harris embodies a more subdued form of feminism. She integrates her identity into her platform in a way that feels authentic and organic rather than overt. This approach allows Harris to resonate with voters who value diversity and representation without risking the perception of identity politics overwhelming her platform.

This progression mirrors the changing cultural landscape, where diversity is increasingly celebrated but must be balanced with a broader message that appeals across demographics. As diversity becomes a more central expectation, female candidates may have more freedom to weave their identity into their political brands subtly. They can express modern feminism not as a standalone brand pillar, but as one of many facets that make up a well-rounded candidate. This more nuanced approach could help future female candidates navigate an increasingly scrutinized political arena by resonating with voters who see their identities as a natural part of their brand narrative, rather than its primary focus.

Clinton’s pantsuits became a symbol of her campaign, often diverting attention away from policy discussions, while Harris’s fashion choices seem to escape such scrutiny. How crucial is it for candidates’ brands to balance consistency in their visual identity with the need to focus on substantive policy?

Walsh: In political branding it’s all about balancing consistency in visual identity while keeping the focus on substantive policy. Hillary Clinton’s pantsuits became an iconic symbol, but that could distract from more important policy discussions. While visual branding creates a recognizable and cohesive image, there’s a risk when it becomes the story rather than supporting it. Kamala Harris, on the other hand, has managed to maintain a strong visual identity without her fashion choices becoming the center of attention, allowing her policies and leadership to take the spotlight.

Robinson: Visual identity is everything and these candidates know that. Picture Trump –  what is he wearing? Not a leather jacket or some True Religion bootcut jeans. He’ll be in a dark suit with a red tie or golf whites and a MAGA hat. Picture Kamala Harris. She’s in a blazer and skinny jeans and Converse, or she’s in a modern designer suit.

These are brand moments—sartorial choices that are picked because of the policies the candidates are endorsing, not despite them. Donald Trump is projecting the image of the rough businessman cutting taxes for the rich. Kamala Harris is the image of the cool aunt who is gonna kick someone’s ass for taking away your reproductive rights.

But the good news? These branding elements are really not the focus.

We’re not talking about the clothing choices, unlike Hillary Clinton’s pantsuits, which is a great thing. A lot has happened since 2016, and we don’t have time for that shit.

Jaime Robinson

Bernstein: For most candidates, it is important to build a visual identity that is inclusive and contrasts with that of your opponent. Obama had one of the strongest visual identities of any modern politician. It let him own the idea of ‘Hope and Progress.’ While that is not substantive policy, it provided a platform for him to put forward ideas that lived up to that visual promise such as healthcare for all.

Delisle: I think millennial voters were much more into political branding – I think in the time of Obama and his Shepard Fairey prints, it was much more about visual identity shaping the campaign. Now because things have shifted so much away from printed collateral, the visual identity piece to me seems less important in this election. Obviously, with MAGA, they had a very strong visual thread that was helpful for them in the last election and likely this one, too, but I think it’s smart that the Harris campaign isn’t putting as much significance on her logo or graphic elements and putting much more effort on social media like video and UGC.

“Misogyny in American culture has often resulted in undue focus on female candidates’ appearances, on both sides of the aisle. This was seen in Clinton’s campaign, where her pantsuits became a symbol that sometimes distracted from her policy platform. In contrast, Harris’s style choices are less scrutinized, reflecting a shift in the way voters and media perceive female candidates. However, this shift doesn’t imply that the biases have disappeared—they’ve just evolved.”

— Holly Willis

Holly Willis: A candidate’s brand is enhanced when visual identity serves as a subtle extension of their narrative, reinforcing their platform without distracting from the policies they champion. For example, a well-coordinated wardrobe choice can be strategically symbolic, drawing connections to the communities they represent without being explicitly gendered or politicized. It’s essential to maintain this balance to ensure the conversation remains focused on their vision and substance.

Can too much focus on visual elements risk diminishing a candidate’s brand? How can they avoid this?

Robinson: I think the conversation around Hillary Clinton’s pantsuits was problematic – it made her more lovable to her core demographic, who were finally seeing themselves represented and loved her boss bitch vibes.  But the sensible pumps and pantsuits served to “other” her to her detractors, who found her power dressing off-putting for the same reasons that her core loved it. 

But today, unless that visual element is a negative or unattractive thing, it’s not a problem. Even the infamous “orange” hue of Donald Trump’s skin is just as accepted and in some camps, celebrated as part of his brand.

Willis: An overemphasis on visual elements can indeed dilute a candidate’s brand, potentially reducing their persona to superficial traits and drawing focus away from their platform. Visual identity should be a strategic tool, enhancing the message and helping convey a sense of strength, consistency, respect, and relatability, but not becoming the focal point. Political figures can avoid this pitfall by aligning visual identity closely with their core values, reinforcing it as an extension of their messaging rather than an attention-grabbing element on its own.

For candidates today, the goal should be to integrate these elements as part of a comprehensive brand that resonates with voter segments. By thoughtfully choosing elements that reflect broader narratives—such as inclusivity, relatability, and authenticity — they can create a memorable visual presence that supports, rather than overshadows, their policies. This balance is especially important in a media environment that often emphasizes imagery, where strategic visual choices can enhance a candidate’s connection with voters.

Clinton faced relentless negative media coverage, while Harris appears to have avoided similar levels of personal scrutiny. How should political candidates handle the branding impact of personal attacks? What strategies from the private sector can help create resilient brands that can withstand media controversies and misinformation?

Walsh: Political candidates can handle personal attacks by focusing on consistency, transparency, and staying true to their core message—much like successful brands in the private sector. Just as companies respond to negative press by controlling the narrative, candidates should address false claims directly, clarify their stance, and reinforce their values without letting attacks overshadow their campaign. By using crisis management strategies from the business world—such as clear communication, proactive messaging, and staying authentic—candidates can build resilience and maintain focus on their leadership and policy goals, ensuring that negative media doesn’t dominate or derail their brand.

Robinson: If you’re running for president, criticism from someone (or many someones) is part of the job description. The key is, no matter the heat, to stay true to the brand. Candidates must stay authentic, and not waver just because they ruffled some feathers. They likely also strengthened some feathers, and if they change course because of the criticism, everybody will register them as fakes. 

As with marketing brands, you can’t be everything to everybody. And the most vital thing is to be “on brand” to yourself.

Willis: One key strategy is to establish a clear, positive narrative around their identity, consistently highlighting their values and achievements. This creates a “brand foundation” that can anchor public perception, making it more challenging for opponents to erode their credibility. In the face of attacks, it’s also effective to address issues head-on when appropriate, deflecting distractions but responding thoughtfully to misinformation.

Resilience also comes from transparency and trust-building. Private-sector brands often use authenticity to connect with audiences, and candidates can similarly counteract negative coverage by being candid and accessible. Misinformation is a constant threat, and successful brands emphasize fact-based storytelling, engaging directly with audiences to set the record straight and offer a counter-narrative that reinforces their values.

Directly addressing a baseless claim not only clarifies their stance but also builds credibility with voters, showing an alignment with the facts over spin.

Holly Willis

With Kamala Harris benefitting from the cultural groundwork laid by Clinton and Shirley Chisholm, how important do you believe timing is in a candidate’s branding success?

Walsh: Timing is critical in a candidate’s branding success, and Kamala Harris’s rise is a great example. She built on the groundwork laid by figures like Clinton and Shirley Chisholm, and her campaign’s timing was key. As many grew weary of Biden’s traditional leadership, Harris brought fresh energy and hope, representing diversity and progress. The joy surrounding her candidacy was not only about her qualifications but the emotional response to seeing a leader who people were excited to get behind. Harris’s timing allowed her brand to resonate at a moment when the public craved new, dynamic representation.

Robinson: Timing – for candidate brands and brand brands – is everything. Is the world ready for what your brand has to say?

“Timing is very important to a candidate’s ability to brand themselves. There are moments like the one we are in today, when it is a coming of age, or generation. It is an inflection point that speaks to a readiness to embrace something new. We saw that with Obama. And I believe we are seeing that now.”

— Ruth Bernstein

Bernstein: Kamala’s womanhood is not as important as other factors. Her age, for one, is a more important factor than her gender. With Kamala, we are seeing her flex her GenX attributes more than her femaleness. And that is relevant to the moment we are in – the age of Biden and the age of Trump and the desire for a new generation of leadership.

Willis: Timing is a critical factor. Harris, for example, is benefiting from the cultural groundwork laid by earlier trailblazers who helped shift societal perceptions of female and diverse leadership. These predecessors opened the door for a more complex, intersectional understanding of identity in politics, allowing Harris to subtly embrace her own diverse background while focusing on policy-driven messaging.

Furthermore, Me Too shifted public consciousness around gender, power, and representation, allowing the political landscape to adapt. Harris’s ability to incorporate her identity without making it a constant focal point reflects this change.

A candidate’s success depends on how aligned their brand is with the public’s evolving expectations and the cultural zeitgeist. As society increasingly values diversity and inclusion, candidates like Harris are better positioned to capitalize on this shift, embodying leadership that resonates with a multi-dimensional, multi-generational electorate. Today, aligning personal identity with policy is as important as having the right message—it’s also about delivering it at the right moment, in a way that feels timely, authentic, and relevant.

In what ways do you see candidates balancing their personal narratives with the evolving societal context during their campaigns? Take Harris’ approach to highlighting her gender, for example.

Walsh: Candidates today must align their personal stories with the shifting cultural zeitgeist, where representation and authenticity are highly valued. Kamala Harris’s nuanced approach to highlighting her gender reflects a broader trend of political figures adapting their identity strategies to align with the cultural moment. Rather than making her gender the sole focus, Harris weaves it into a larger narrative of competence, experience, and representation, allowing her to connect with diverse groups without being reduced to a singular identity.

Robinson: Harris is smart. She’s not taking the gender bait, for either the positive or the negative. Even more interestingly, nobody else really seems all that concerned with it. We’re all so entrenched in our political sides that either party could run a hippopotamus and still get votes. In fact, Moo Deng would probably crush it.

Willis: Harris’s approach illustrates a broader trend in which political figures integrate aspects of their identity into their brand strategies without necessarily making them the centerpiece. This allows candidates to connect with voters on shared values, using their identity as a touchpoint that builds relatability while focusing on policy. In today’s social climate, where identity is often deeply intertwined with political beliefs, this balanced approach enables leaders to reflect the diversity of their constituencies without alienating key voter demographics.

As societal expectations evolve, political candidates are finding ways to weave personal narratives into their campaigns subtly. They leverage cultural references, such as Harris’s allusions to trending topics like Beyoncé or Taylor Swift, to underscore their connections to various communities. This nuanced branding strategy suggests that candidates can benefit from staying attuned to cultural shifts and adopting a flexible approach that allows them to resonate across generations. At the same time, it acknowledges that while identity politics remains a powerful tool, it must be wielded thoughtfully to avoid alienating groups with different priorities.

However, aligning with cultural trends in this way carries risks. In today’s fast-paced media environment, one misstep can lead to accusations of inauthenticity or pandering, undermining the intended connection. Voters, especially younger generations, are highly attuned to authenticity and quick to call out anything that feels disingenuous. Therefore, it’s a delicate balance: candidates must lean into their personal experiences and core values to connect with cultural topics and trends genuinely, rather than opportunistically.

We are less than a week away from Election Day, Tuesday, November 5. For all of our futures, this election is critical and your voice matters. If you need any voting registration help or info finding the nearest polling booth to you, learn more here.

Campaign imagery © KamalaHarris.com and Harris campaign social feeds.

The post Five Design Leaders on the Evolution of the Female Presidential Candidate appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

“When I dreamed up this idea, there was no place for Muslims of a left-leaning political ideology to engage in critical discourse about the world we live in and how we want it to look different,” she says, noting that there were indeed magazines focusing on Black Muslim identity like Sapelo Square, or gender identity, like altMuslimah—but nothing broadly focused on the left side of the political spectrum. “Islam informs so much of my political values, and I knew the same was true for others. I saw that magazines such as Jewish Currents had created this space to critically reflect on community and politics, and I thought that was so needed in the American Muslim community.”

Ahmed partnered with creative director Arsh Raziuddin—former AD of The Atlantic and The New York Times’ Opinion section, and former creative director of Bon Appétit—and Acacia was born online and semi-annually in print.

Its first issue released earlier this year, covering a broad spectrum of politics and culture, with fiction, poetry and art to boot: In “The Myth of Bodily Autonomy,” Natalia Latif explored the impact of the overturning of Roe v. Wade and the Muslim response; Sarah Aziza penned an essay on growing up the child of a Palestinian Muslim father and an American Christian mother; Shamira Ibrahim documented the use and impact of “Arab scales” in Western music; Mariam Rahmani and Lamya H discussed Hijab Butch Blues: A Memoir.

The latest issue, released this month, meanwhile, focuses on Palestine. There’s Sanya Mansoor’s “Fury at the Ballot Box”; Matene Toure’s interview with scholar Zoé Samudzi on the historical use of the word genocide; Maira Khwaja’s look at torture, from Guantanamo to Gaza; a profile of poet Mosab Abu Toha.

Underscoring it all: Raziuddin’s deft design and art direction, supplemented by visual contributions from some of the industry’s best creatives. 

Below, Ahmed and Raziuddin tell us more about the publication, which is further building out a community through sold-out launches and other events. 

Tell us about the need for a publication like this today.
Ahmed: It’s no secret that Muslim-, Arab- and Palestinian-allied journalists are being censored in mainstream media, especially in the last year. We think in light of that censorship, it’s more critical than ever that Muslim voices have a platform to report honestly about the state of our world. 

Raziuddin: This kind of censorship seeps into the world of art, affecting what stories we can share visually and how they are commissioned. It’s important to involve Muslim artists and photographers in a wide range of topics, so we aren’t limited to narratives of war, pain, and exoticism.

Arsh, at what point did you get involved? How did the two of you first connect?
Raziuddin: Hira and I had a meet-cute in an elevator. We were both going to another literary magazine party and introduced ourselves. I asked if she was a writer and she said she’s starting a lefty Muslim magazine. The rest was history. 

Tell us about the significance of the name Acacia, and how it represents your overall mission.
Ahmed: Our name is a reference to the acacia tree (Vachellia seyal). It’s generally thought to be a tree under which Prophet Muhammad and early followers of Islam sought respite and prayed. In that same tradition, Acacia is a gathering place.

Raziuddin: I imagine the tree taking on various forms, adapting alongside different letters, abstracting itself into varied versions as the magazine evolves.

What made you decide to launch Acacia in print?
Ahmed: Publishing a print edition allows us to build a tangible and enduring legacy of American Muslim political, cultural and artistic production. The internet may seem like forever, but everything on it is ultimately ephemeral. Because most of us don’t own the platforms that host our data, apart from some commendable archival efforts, we have limited tools to preserve our stories for future generations.

We hope that years from now, the back issues of Acacia will tell the story of what it meant to be a Muslim in America during critical political and cultural moments. 

Hira Ahmed

Tell us a bit about the editorial breakdown/architecture of the magazine, and how it’s arranged.
Raziuddin: Acacia is broken down into different sections, similar but not necessarily dependent on the front, middle, and back of a book, like a traditional magazine. We have a mix of personal essays, reported essays, feature stories, interviews, poetry, and a photo essay.

How have you selected the issue themes so far?
Ahmed: Our first issue was finalized before Oct. 7, 2023. In some ways, that feels like a different world, and the American Muslim community is certainly in a very different place since the beginning of the genocide. But in the pre-Oct. 7th world, we wanted to tell stories that were affecting us intra-communally. Our cover story “Navigating Culture Wars” from the first issue really captures that effort. It was about rising homophobia in the American Muslim community and specifically an open letter penned by prominent American Muslim imams condemning queerness. I think it resonated with readers because it was something everyone was talking about in the group chat, but, prior to Acacia, there was no space to formally unpack and analyze the subject matter of that story. 

The second issue is about Palestine. The genocide has been an all-consuming issue for American Muslims in the past year. It’s hard to imagine how that isn’t the case for everyone. As the genocide worsens, Gaza moves further back into the pages of newspapers. It’s a real shame. 

What has been your approach to the stories within? You have assembled such a powerful collection across a broad swath.
Ahmed: We are lucky that such incredible writers want to work with us! There is no shortage of talent in our communities and it’s been such an honor to be able to highlight that. A lot of writers are already thinking about the issues we discuss in the magazine, and we provide a home for that writing. Other times, as fans of certain writers, we will commission pieces that we think our readers would want to read. We have a brilliant group of editors who commission pieces and we deliberate together about what makes it into the issue. 

What are your favorite pieces that you’ve run to date?
Raziuddin: It’s hard to pick just one favorite, but I really loved Shamira Ibrahim’s piece on the Arab Scale from Issue 1, and Matene Toure’s interview on genocide in the latest issue. Amir Hamja’s portrait of Noura Erakat in this second issue was absolutely stunning and complemented her interview perfectly.

What has been the most challenging part of the whole endeavor so far?
Ahmed: It’s a logistically large undertaking.

Raziuddin: Especially with a small team, we’re really breaking new ground. There aren’t many folks doing what we’re doing in this way, and we’re creating our own path.

Tell us about the look you set out to achieve through the design.
Raziuddin: I want to strike the right balance between showcasing our community’s artwork and styles that we cherish, while also embracing a modern editorial language and design system. It’s a tricky line to walk.

Tell us a bit about the first two covers.
Raziuddin: In our inaugural issue, we were so lucky to feature Cassi Namoda as our cover artist. Her work is so beautiful—steeped in history and rich with narrative. Sad Man With Roses (awaits his beloved), 2020, captures a tender, poetic quality that was a perfect fit for our first cover. …

For our second cover, we were honored to feature a photograph by Taysir Batniji, a gifted Palestinian artist born in Gaza. His photo essay, Fathers, carries a haunting depth. Each image tells a story of lineage and family, echoing profound themes of loss and memory. It captures what we leave behind in times of war and genocide, highlighting how we, as a community, navigate and reshape our history. This issue confronts the ongoing devastation in Palestine and its broader impact on the Muslim world, while also addressing the rising tide of Islamophobia. We’re thankful for the artists who help us uncover and share the truth through their work. This series was captured back in 2006, many years before Oct. 7, 2023. 

Overall, what has the reception been like so far?
Ahmed: We’ve been really moved by the response. There’s nothing more rewarding than having a journalist or a fellow reader express gratitude for Acacia. My favorite anecdote is when we heard from a college student that he was going to cite one of our stories in his senior thesis. 

Raziuddin: A friend shared that a young Muslim girl, a budding artist, cried when she held the magazine. It made me cry!

Editor’s Note: PRINT Magazine is committed to publishing a diversity of opinions.

The post Meet ‘Acacia’, a New Print Magazine for the Muslim Left appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

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If any brand has an opportunity to take advantage of its leadership position in the category and elevate itself from a functional to an emotional brand, Bear Naked can. The team from Leo Burnett Chicago designed a campaign for hikers (and adult outdoor recreation enthusiasts in general) to think “Bear Naked” instead of “granola” because the company is a brand people love for its real ingredients, incredible taste, and commitment to the things they care about.

As part of this campaign, Leo Burnett designed a guidebook, “The Guide to Hiking Naked: The Essential Handbook for Nude Hikers,” winning first place in The 2024 PRINT Awards’ Brochures and Catalogs category.

Powered by Gaia GPS, a popular trail app, the design team deployed a new tool that replaces what used to be primarily done through word-of-mouth, marking trails as either friendly or unfriendly. The designers created an ownable moment for Bear Naked, kicking off on Naked Hiking Day 2023, that not only brought attention to the activity but empowered current (and curious) naked hikers to explore nature and reap all of its benefits confidently and safely. They achieved this through a bold, multi-pronged experience that grabbed the attention of hikers and non-hikers alike through its bare-all, grass-roots approach.

To get the word out, the team partnered with the name in all things outdoor, Outside Inc. Together, they embarked on a journey that included custom articles and how-to’s for enjoying hiking nude, partnership with influential outdoor personalities, video content delivered via CTV in outdoor-related contexts, cross-platform social engagement encouraging use of the app, a home-page takeover, and media outreach to garner earned coverage.

Oh, and so hikers don’t have to worry about leaving their granola at home, the design team created a hiker’s belt that holds a strategically placed bag of granola to cover up those who dare to be bare.

The post Leo Burnett Chicago Gets Bare Naked appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

Mostafa Asadollahi was among the first graduates of the Graphic Design program at the Faculty of Fine Arts, University of Tehran, in 1976. Unlike the previous generation of graphic designers, mainly painting graduates, Asadollahi studied graphic design academically, though he had previously studied painting at the Tehran School of Fine Arts. Asadollahi found influence in teachers such as Morteza Momayez and Jalal Shabahangi in the field of graphic design and by professors like Karl Schlamminger, Rouin Pakbaz, Sima Kouban, Violette Mottahedeh, and Parviz Tanavoli, who taught the foundations of art. He describes that period: “Part of the exercises in college were related to the pure and essential expressions of graphic design, where we sought concepts. There, I developed an interest in simple and unadorned graphic design: the fewest fonts and colors for the greatest expression.” Subsequently, Asadollahi’s graphic design oeuvre draws on geometry, which is influenced by modernism and constructivism. His refined approach later incorporated classical Iranian art, making him one of Iran’s most unique and celebrated graphic designers.

Clockwise, from upper left: (1) Poster, The 9th Tehran International Poster Biennial, 2007; (2) Logo, Tehran International Poster Biennial, 2004; (3) Poster, Book Week, 1993; (4) Logotype, Kalameh weekly magazine, 1992; (5) Logotype, International News Network, 2001

Mostafa Asadollahi’s influence in my life reflects his generous nature and professional character as a mentor, graphic designer, friend, and colleague. All three roles hold equal priority; just as his role as a designer was of particular significance, his roles as a teacher and colleague were equally important. Asadollahi’s aesthetic, which made use of the three primary shapes, makes me think of each as an aspect of his influence: squares symbolizing his role as an educator, triangles a nod to his identity as a designer, and circles encompassing his professional persona.

Mentor

My most fundamental relationship with Mostafa Asadollahi involves his mentorship. He was one of the most influential, disciplined, and capable instructors during my studies at the College of Fine Arts at the University of Tehran in the 1990s. Having dedicated nearly three decades of his professional life to education, his passion for teaching was evident, paying attention to each student’s needs and supporting their growth. He was a beloved educator. His classes, especially those on poster and packaging design, are fond memories of my studies in the early 1990s. Asadollahi modeled strategy, discipline, and structure in the graphic design practice, which significantly impacted my work. His authorship of three books from the “Graphic Design Fundamentals for Visual Communication” series, including Environmental Graphic Design (2016), The Language and Expression of Imagery (2018), and Poster Design (2022), is the result of over five decades of teaching and professional experience.

Graphic Designer

Following in the footsteps of great designers such as Sadegh Barirani, Morteza Momayez, Ghobad Shiva, Mohammad Ehsaei, Farshid Mesghali, and Ebrahim Haghighi, I found Mostafa Asadollahi to be a uniquely distinguished graphic designer. Initially, I found his works overly rigid, but as I became more familiar with his perspective, I realized that he was a graphic designer unlike any who came before or after. One of his most brilliant works, a poster for the 5th Biennial Exhibition of Works by Iranian Graphic Designers (1996), helped me grasp the depth of his point of view as a graphic designer. In the poster, the tree balances simplicity and visual complexity, a nod to the dynamism of the graphic design profession. This work opened my eyes to his earlier poster masterpieces—such as the one for the Iranian Cultural Exhibition in Almaty (1992) and later works like the Book Week poster (1997). Asadollahi also designed remarkable logos for various companies and institutions, including Asia Insurance (1990), International News Network (2001), and the Tehran International Poster Biennial (2004), which, after nearly three decades, remain fresh, effective, and relevant.

Left: Poster, Exhibition of Iranian Culture in Kazakhstan, 1992; Right: Poster, Book Week, 1997

Logotypes: (Top) Day Bank, 2009; (Bottom Left) Asia Insurance Company, 1990; (Bottom right) Taban Printing, 1996

Friend and Colleague

The Iranian Graphic Designers’ Society (IGDS), established in 1998 through the persistence of Morteza Momayez and the collective efforts of several graphic designers, played a significant role in my relationship with Mostafa Asadollahi as a friend and colleague. During the three years (2003 to 2006) when he served as the board of directors president, I had the opportunity to work closely with him as the board treasurer. At that time, in addition to teaching and his professional graphic design work, he dedicated a large portion of his daily schedule to guild activities, organizing, and managing the profession of graphic design. This aspect of his personality reminded me that graphic designers must pay attention to industry and professional matters alongside their educational and professional responsibilities to ensure strong and enduring societies (outside of the governmental realm).

Posters, left to right: Commemoration of the Cultural Heritage & the International Museum Day, 2002; Polish Posters 2, 1973; Poster, Coffee-House Painting Exhibition, 2007

In 2019, when he was living in Toronto, his collection of works, Fifty Years of Graphic Design by Mostafa Asadollahi: 1968–2018, was published in Tehran. I brought him a copy on a trip to Toronto, but I couldn’t resist asking if I could open the package to have the first look. It was a fitting and comprehensive look at Asadollahi’s life and career. Though Mostafa Asadollahi, the patient teacher, brilliant graphic designer, and my responsible friend and colleague, is no longer with us, his legacy lives on among Iran’s most influential graphic designers.

Majid Abbasi is the design director of Studio Abbasi, an internationally active studio based in Tehran and Toronto. He leads design projects for start-ups, non-profits, and cultural institutions, specializing in visual identity and wayfinding. A member of IGDS and AGI, Abbasi contributes to the global design scene as an instructor, jury member, and writer. From 2010 to 2020, he was editor-in-chief of Neshan, Iran’s leading graphic design magazine. He is currently editing a book on the history of Iranian graphic design.

The post Remembering Mostafa Asadollahi (1950-2024) appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

Identity Politics is a column written by veteran journalist Susan Milligan, covering the big issues in the socio-political ether as they intersect with design, art, and other modes of visual communication.

Hillary Clinton has a long career of being first. First female chair of the Legal Services Corporation in 1978. The first woman to be made a partner at the Rose Law Firm in Little Rock the following year. First Lady of Arkansas, First Lady of the country (and first First Lady to hold a law degree), the first woman to be elected a US senator from New York (and first First Lady elected to the Senate). The first woman to win the Iowa caucuses and, of course, the first woman to win a major party nomination for president.

The ultimate first – making it to the Oval Office job – was beyond her grasp. And her 2016 loss had all the elements of the frustrations women have endured in less-publicized employment struggles: she won the popular vote but didn’t get the job because of arcane rules that are the election equivalent of old boy’s club practices that keep women out of the room where it happens. And the presidency didn’t just go to any man, but a man who was notorious for his misogynistic remarks, a man not stopped even when a recording emerged the month before the election in which he bragged about being able to “do anything” to women, even “grab ’em by the pussy,” because he was famous.

Such is the painful conundrum of being a trailblazing woman. You often get burned.

Now, Kamala Harris is trying to be the first woman president. And she’s avoiding some of the pitfalls that beleaguered Clinton because Harris is not actually branding herself as the would-be first woman president – let alone the first Black and Asian woman president.

Even though she is facing the same general election foe Clinton did (and Trump has actually escalated his misogynistic rhetoric this time around), Harris doesn’t draw attention to her gender or to the historic possibilities of her candidacy. It’s just there, without her remarking on it.

Hillary Clinton made her femaleness a part of her campaign – sometimes awkwardly so: in her first run, in 2008, she needled primary opponent Barack Obama for being a bit too sensitive to criticism. “I’m with Harry Truman on this,” Clinton said at a Pennsylvania rally that year. “If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen. Just speaking for myself, I am very comfortable in the kitchen.”

Harris, meanwhile, unironically talks about her favorite method of preparing collard greens: washing them in the bathtub and cooking them with bacon fat, garlic, and chili peppers. But it’s not in the reassuring context of – don’t worry; I still cook for my husband and kids even though I want to have my finger on the nuclear button. It’s just foodie talk.

Hillary Clinton’s pantsuits were a consistent topic of media conversation, despite the fact that the pantsuit was designed to serve as an unremarkable campaign uniform, much like a man’s suit. Harris wears pantsuits – sometimes with fashionable heels, sometimes with comfortable kicks – but there’s nary a mention of it in stories about her rallies. And while there have indeed been comments about Harris’s looks (Trump seems particularly obsessed with it, complaining about descriptions of Harris as a “beautiful woman,” and insisting he’s better looking than she is), it was Clinton who was the subject of a Washington Post story about displaying “cleavage” on the Senate floor (she didn’t, really, unless you looked very closely). And it seems an absurd observation now when we have a US senator content to wear hoodies and cargo pants on the Senate floor.

Harris has been sexualized, to be sure, with the right-wing suggestion that she “slept her way to the top” because she once dated former San Francisco Mayor Willie Brown (never mind that she was a district attorney, state attorney general, and U.S. senator). But the slurs haven’t filtered into the mainstream media coverage of her, even on a sanitized or wink-wink level. Clinton, meanwhile, always had the albatross of her own marriage around her neck – blamed for staying with a straying husband.

Harris’s gender is an asset this year in a way that has zero to do with any kind of “first.” With reproductive rights a central issue in the election, Harris has an inherent credibility on the issue even the most pro-choice man in politics can never have. Her candidacy underscores the perverse contradiction this fall: can we really be ready to elect our first female president, even as women’s bodies have been increasingly under the control of the state? She doesn’t have to talk about how personally insulting it is to her, as a woman. It’s obvious.

And Harris has Clinton to thank for taking the front-line assault in the presidential gender wars. To be sure, Shirley Chisholm took the worst of it in 1972, when the idea of a woman (especially a Black woman) running for president was so anathema to American politics and culture that she wasn’t even allowed to participate in televised primary debates (only after legal action was she allowed to make one speech). She simply wasn’t taken seriously as a candidate for the highest office in the land.

Clinton was taken seriously, making the attacks on her more personal and arguably more vicious. And it paved the path for Harris, who could not have run a campaign so remarkably un-gendered if Clinton had not taken the hits first. Some of it is the times – people are more used to women leaders, making the possibility of a female president more normal and arguably inevitable. Clinton, too, reads more like a 1970s-era feminist, Wayne State University associate professor Janine Lanza, an expert on gender and politics, observed to me – and younger women can’t relate to that as much. Harris epitomizes a more modern kind of feminist. She doesn’t talk about it directly; she just lives it. And thanks to the advance work of trailblazers like Chisholm and Clinton, she just might end up living at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.

For added commentary, PRINT’s Amelia Nash reached out to design industry leaders for their take on the topic of gender, identity, and brand as they intersect in politics and electioneering. Read their responses here.

More topics in this series:

What the Age-Old Campaign Against Childfree Cat Ladies Doesn’t Get

Susan Milligan is an award-winning veteran journalist covering politics, culture, foreign affairs, and business in Washington, DC, New York, and Eastern Europe. A former writer for the New York Daily News, the Boston Globe, and US News & World Report, she was among a team of authors of the New York Times bestseller Last Lion: The Rise and Fall of Ted Kennedy. A proud Buffalo native, Milligan lives in northern Virginia.

Header image composite by Debbie Millman.

The post Kitchens, Pantsuits, and Cleavage Oh My! Running for President While Female appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

These are some of the questions UK-based graphic designer Conor Foran found himself asking, spurred by his own journey with stammering. This reflection led to his development of the Dysfluent Mono typeface along with his wider project, Dysfluent, in 2017.

Through art, design, and curation, Dysfluent intersects the lived experience of dysfluency with creativity, activism, and social justice. Through Dysfluent, Foran collaborates with people who stammer, artists, speech therapists, academics, activists, organizations, and allies. One component of the Dysfluent project is an independent magazine of the same name, that explores the lived experience of stammering. Designed by Foran, the publication deploys the Dysfluent Mono typeface throughout its eye-catching and thoughtful pages, that visually portray the sounds, rhythms, patterns, and experiences of a stammer.

Foran has released two issues of the magazine, with a third currently in production. A digital version of issues one and two are available through Dysfluent’s online shop, with a hard copy of issue two distributed in the UK, Europe, Asia, and North America by Antenne Books.

More than a magazine, Foran has created a movement. Using his skills as a graphic designer and keen editorial design eye, through Dysfluent, Foran has helped cultivate a community centered around celebration and reclamation for those who stutter.

Stammering pride contends that verbal diversity is rich with meaning in its own right, and deserves to exist outside of a clinical lens of needing to be “fixed” or “cured.” 

Today, October 22nd, marks International Stuttering Awareness Day, a moment dedicated to sharing information about the realities of stuttering more widely and honoring the stuttering community at large. We’re thrilled to highlight Dysfluent and Foran’s work as part of the international celebration. Foran answered a few of my questions about the Dysfluent story below, including reflections on his editorial design, developing the Stammering Pride flag, and what he has planned next for the project.

Can you describe Dysfluent and its mission? What are you hoping to accomplish with Dysfluent?

Dysfluent is a collaborative and creative practice about stammering, a speech disability (also known as stuttering). Through art and design, it intersects the lived experience of dysfluency with creativity, activism, and social justice. So far, it has produced a stammering font, a magazine, a stammering pride flag, and, most recently, a billboard for Whitney Museum’s 2024 Biennial in New York City.

Dysfluent is led by me, Conor Foran. I collaborate with people who stammer, artists, speech therapists, academics, activists, organizations, and allies from around the world to contribute to a growing stuttering culture based around pride. Stammering pride contends that verbal diversity is rich with meaning in its own right and deserves to exist outside of a clinical lens of needing to be “fixed” or “cured.”

What’s the origin story of Dysfluent? How did the idea for a magazine reflecting the stammering community come about?

Dysfluent as a project happened very much organically, as I investigated my relationship with my own speech. While I am a proud person who stammers now, I wasn’t back in 2017 when I started creating the Dysfluent Mono typeface and magazine in college. Looking back, the project was a form of self-therapy that I still practice today. 

My experience with speech therapy was limited, and I wasn’t part of the stammering community as I am now. When creating content for the magazine, I met another person who stammers for the first time. What was an intensely personal project naturally evolved into a community-facing one. I’m very grateful to the stammering community that has embraced all the Dysfluent projects, from everyday people who stammer and parents of kids who stammer, to academics and therapists. 

The typeface is used in the magazine to proudly represent the voice of the interviewees. The magazine explores the lived experience of stammering through interviews and essays, facilitating contrasting and challenging views. It has published two issues so far. 

When it comes to the design of the magazine (and your beautiful website, merch, flag, etc.) can you speak to some of the visual choices you made to reflect stammering and how those were developed?

The typeface Dysfluent Mono is based on the three kinds of stammering: repetitions, prolongations, and blocks. I made special letterforms that repeat parts of themselves until they form the actual character, as well as characters that stretch their forms. Blocks are represented as multiple spaces. While ideas of stammering pride didn’t really exist when I created the typeface, looking back, the approach I took was very pride-coded. I interpreted my speech as forming over time, rather than being fragmented or broken. To consider stammering or dysfluency as not the antithesis of fluency is still a radical idea for a lot of people. 

To consider stammering or dysfluency as not the antithesis of fluency is still a radical idea for a lot of people.

For Issue 2 two, I asked how can a magazine itself stammer? The cover unfolds to reveal an inner dialogue amongst stammering letterforms. The issue’s title stammers across the spine. The “pull quotes” remain in their paragraphs, challenging the idea of the perfectly said phrase. Each interview is set in Dysfluent Mono. The expressive, typographic illustrations are inspired by the uniqueness of the interviewee’s voice. The magazine creatively questions society’s obsession with hyper-fluency, which leaves little room for organic moments in language.

Outside of the magazine, the typeface has been used in ZEIT and the “Stuttering Can Create Time” billboard for Whitney Museum’s 2024 Biennial with the collective People Who Stutter Create.

How have your skills as a graphic designer given you the power to make such an impact in stammering awareness?

My interest in typography in college laid the foundations for me to reconsider how my own voice could be represented in text. Making stammering visually beautiful, striking, and in some ways appealing empowers, me (and other people) to be proud of how I talk. I think it also speaks to a wider idea of what it means to be legible in both a linguistic and typographic sense. There is value to be found in visual and auditory dysfluency.

Making stammering visually beautiful, striking, and in some ways appealing empowers, me (and other people) to be proud of how I talk.

The medical model of needing to “fix” the stammer has dominated the stammering community up until a few years ago. As such, the graphic design of stammering only existed in clinical or organizational spaces. A lot of this visual design relies on tropes such as mouths, speech bubbles, and splintered, fractured, or broken typography.

There is now an emerging stuttering culture of visual art, design, music, poetry, and literature that explore the generative power of dysfluency by people who stammer, such as JJJJJerome Ellis, Willemijn Bolks, Paul Aston, and Jordan Scott. I consider my work in the stammering community to push past awareness and instead instill action. As the world becomes more and more accepting of difference, why shouldn’t stammering be included too?

I consider my work in the stammering community to push past awareness and instead instill action. As the world becomes more and more accepting of difference, why shouldn’t stammering be included too?

What was the development process of the Stammering Pride flag like? Can you unpack the design for me a bit?

The Making Waves flag was made by seven people who stammer from various countries: JJJJJerome Ellis, Kristel Kubart, Laura Lascău, Patrick Campbell, Paul Aston, Ramdeep Roman, and myself. We’ve titled it “a stammering pride flag” as it’s up to people who stammer if they identify with this design and approach we have taken. This flag is an invitation.

Water has long been associated with stammering and speech. We were eager to build upon work by the stammering community in a meaningful way, emphasizing that stuttering is as natural as whirling waves and calm creeks. The design visualizes three values: the sea-green symbolizes the existing community that has used this color for stuttering awareness since 2009; the wave motif symbolizes stammering as a natural, varied phenomenon; and the ultramarine symbolizes the progress and passion of the stuttering pride movement.

The flag has been flown by people all around the world. Kids who stammer and their parents have also responded to it so well, which has been a really amazing surprise!

What has been the biggest challenge you’ve faced with this project so far? What’s been the most rewarding aspect?

The biggest challenge I’ve faced is finding time to work on it! While I feel like I’ve produced a lot under the Dysfluent name, I still have so many ideas I want to develop. But because it’s a niche, there isn’t much money to be made, so it can be hard to devote time to the work.

My biggest reward has definitely been finding community. It still amazes me when I get an email or message from someone in a far-away country wanting to collaborate or just describing how Dysfluent represents them so well. The project also allows me to be a designer, artist, writer, facilitator… basically anything that needs to be done. While I enjoy being a generalist, it’s also taught me the importance of collaboration. 

What do you have planned next for Dysfluent?

The next Dysfluent-ism is an upcoming visual art exhibition in London, titled “Wouldn’t You Rather Talk Like Us?” with painter Paul Aston. It’s opening on November 29 and is supported by Arts Council England. The hand-made Making Waves flag will be on show in addition to some new work I can’t wait for people to see!

I’m also excited to start working on Issue 3 of the magazine next year. Overall, I’ll continue to position Dysfluent as a collaborative practice— forming alliances with people who stammer, therapists, and academics, to create work that both celebrates and challenges what we think about stammering.

The post Conor Foran Spreads Stammering Pride through ‘Dysfluent’ Magazine appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

At the first of two special PRINT Book Clubs this October, Debbie Millman and Steven Heller welcomed Cheryl D. Holmes-Miller to the stage to discuss her new book, Here: Where The Black Designers Are.

So, where are the black designers? As Holmes-Miller contends, “We’ve always been here. As long as Black people have been in this country, there have been Black designers. We go back to the slave artisans.” Here recognizes and celebrates this long history.

Holmes-Miller’s Here is part memoir, starting with her familial connection to art and design through her Danish and West Indian heritage and then her recognition of those threads as she began her design studies and scholarship.

The book is also part investigation, part urgent call for justice and recognition for Black designers, and part passing of the baton.

When asked why this book and why now, Holmes-Miller said, “I felt a deep sense of responsibility to put things in order, to document everything about the advocacy.”

When the elders go, so goes the library.

Cheryl D. Holmes-Miller, adapted from an African proverb.

A big part of Holmes-Miller’s journey of uplifting designers of color is to save the artifacts and history of Black graphic designers for future generations. She talked at length about her archives at Stanford, working with families to preserve this essential history—people like Dorothy Hayes, the co-curator of a 1970 exhibition about the Black artist in visual communication, whom Holmes-Miller features prominently in Here.

How do you encapsulate a life of advocacy? We only scratched the surface. During our conversation with Holmes-Miller, the engaged audience asked so many questions that our event ran long. We hope you’ll register here to watch the recording and check out some of the links below.

Here is an invaluable resource for graphic design professionals, teachers, and students. If you haven’t purchased your copy of Here: Where The Black Designers Are, get your copy here.

Header image © Olivier O. Kpognon.

Further reading:

“Be Better than the History I’ve Traveled:” A Chat with Cheryl D. Miller

Five Essential Books to Decolonize Your Studio, Library, and Classroom

Living History: Connecting the Threads Between Juneteenth and the Story of Black Graphic Designers

Black and White: A Portfolio of 40 Statements (1969)

Miller-Holmes’ 1987 article, Black Designers: Missing in Action

For more PRINT Book Club this month, join us this Thursday, October 24 at 4 PM ET for Let The Sun In, a new monograph on the life and work of Alexander Girard by Todd Oldham and Kiera Coffee. Register to attend here!

The post PRINT Book Club Recap with Designer, Writer, and Activist Cheryl D. Holmes-Miller appeared first on PRINT Magazine.