bay state design shop
The Bay State Design Shop is a pretension-free place for New England-area designers—of all disciplines and skill levels— to talk shop, chew the fat, hone their craft, lend a helping hand, and build a creative community. Why don’t you stop on by an sit a spell?
| Designer Midnight Umbrella |
| Project Form Analog Collage |
| Client Personal |
| Dimensions Various |
| Year 2015–Present |
WORK SIMPLY & DON’T BE PRECIOUS.
paper, scissors, glue. All you need.
My first collage—years ago—were sourced from historical found imagery, merged with Photoshop’s sorcery. All the images for this series are taken from my own photographs, then physically printed, cut, hand assembled, then scanned back into bits. Above all, there’s nothing precious about the materials. iPhone photographs. Generic copy paper. Household laser printer. Double-sided tape. That’s it.
The first six compositions that came to life are below, taking form as nested circles. Simple geometries and patterns, using Fibonacci sequences as a creative restraint which possesses nice contrasts in size…not because they’re some design alchemy. The goal is to be iterative and quick—not to think too much. Embrace the whim.
OWN AS MUCH AS YOU CAN.
Subconsciously, I think this stripped-down approach hits the spot in two different ways. First, the DNA of the collages aren’t derived from the inherent quirks of a vintage magazine, or the tattered mystique of an old book—two visual elements I normally love in others’ work! Being a fan of historical ephemera, though, I squirm at the thought of hacking graphic treasures up for my creative nonsense; I feel unworthy. In my approach, I’m simply capturing the photons that happen to fall in front of the smart phone’s camera sensor, folks. I’m just borrowing what nature, God, the cosmos, and pure luck put out there. The source material consists of everyday items—banal or, worse, natural overlooked gems—we take for granted. There’s beauty everywhere, friends.
COLLAGE CONTROL FREAK.
Second, if you’re using somebody else’s previously-published source materials, there’s always a question of ownership hanging in the ether. It’s strange, because I love collage by other makers who use existing materials. It hits the spot, believe me. That said, for my own artful collage pretensions, making sure I personally capture the source material I’m working with appeals to a (perhaps overbearing) need to claim authorship. Or, maybe, it makes me feel like I’ve done some legwork to be able to earnestly call the final form my own.
Pattern. anD texture. and form.
Whether it’s new or old compositions, they still share a common kinship. In a former life, I was typically ho-hum about natural landscapes in art—which was a wholeheartedly foolish take. Don’t be dumb like me, friends: there is nary a wellspring of rich textures, patterns, and interesting forms than those found in a patch of woods nearby or, heck, your very own backyard. Go look!
There’s more visual nooks and crannies than I could ever venture to dream up on my own. Armed with a cameraphone at all times, there’s no excuse not to capture and catalog these interesting, otherwise unassuming forms that we encounter each day.
