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Cabinets of Curiosity
For designers who collect, the cluttered workspace is a library of inspiration.
By Paul Makovsky
Photography by Tim Davis for Metropolis
July 2003
The spectrum of graphic designers' workspace preferences can be delineated
quite simply: those minimalists with clutter-free surfaces on one end, and
the great accumulators--passionate collectors who surround themselves with
the stuff of life--on the other. The latter spaces function like the sixteenth-
and seventeenth-century wunderkammern or "cabinets of curiosity,"
collections that represented the wonders of the natural and man-made world
to an untraveled population. Like the taxidermied animals, shells, rare
botanical specimens, and antique coins of old, the new collections are more
than decoration. These artifacts and curios act as tools to the designer,
providing a window from the studio into the larger world. Alongside a computer
and a jar of paintbrushes are Hong Kong action figures, protest pins,
Polaroid snapshots, fountain pen nibs still on the display card, vintage
pulp novels, and fortune-cookie messages. A tumbleweed in Maira Kalman's
studio--picked up during a trip to the American South last summer--has found
its way into the illustrations for her next children's book. And Rob Cristofaro's
collection of surplus military equipment gave him examples of rugged clothing
construction for a series of fabric dolls.
Each workspace reproduces its designer's world in miniature, through both
the items it contains and the way they are organized. Objects often relate
to each other in an intuitive way rather than following any strict principles
of reason: Kalman displays a pair of Comme des Garçons shoes next
to an old-fashioned tin lard bucket; Milton Glaser has pinned a paper cut-out
of an ampersand above a Korean fan, next to a large dried leaf from Hawaii.
The items are not fixed and can be rearranged and moved at any time
into ever-changing configurations. Kalman curates a table-top display
for her current project and saves past inspirational objects in a highly
organized system of boxes (with labels like "Mosses of Long Island").
"Usually when I'm finished with a whole set of things for a book
or an assignment, I clear out the space and make a clean slate for the next
one," she says. "Ideally it's blank for a minute--and then I start
bringing stuff out or people bring me things. I want everything in my life
to be completely insane but totally organized."
Metropolis visited four New York graphic designers--Glaser, Kalman, Cristofaro,
and Scott Stowell--who have transformed their studios into personalized
founts of inspiration. The objects in these spaces speak to designers' curiosity
about the world around them and provide insight into the ways they think
and work.
Rob Cristofaro
In 1999 Cristofaro, Tony Arcabascio, Tammy Brainard, and Arnaud Delecolle
founded the Alife collective, a studio, gallery, and retail store. Unlike
traditional graphic design firms, Alife conducts every step of the creative
process from start to finish--from design to production to sales and marketing.
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1. Combat helmet from Cristofaro's collection of vintage military gear,
which he uses as inspiration for his toys and artwork.
2. Jakuan action figure, one of the first production pieces for 360 Toy
Group, designed by Cristofaro's friend Jakuan El Haseem. The two are currently
collaborating on a series of toys called the Surprise Pack.
3. Alife sticker with logo designed by Cristofaro. The studio came up with
more than 300 logo designs in the month and a half before it opened in October
1999. "We ended up with something clean but easily recognizable,"
Cristofaro says.
4. Action figure by Kaws, an artist Cristofaro has known for years through
the graffiti scene. (Cristofaro started tagging when he was 15.) |
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5. Plasti-Kote spray can, part of a collection of vintage spray cans and
markers dating to the 1950s. Cristofaro occasionally trades with other
collectors but isn't as obsessive as some: "They collect every can from
every year and go across the country looking for them."
6. Krink brand ink bottle. Cristofaro and his friend K.R. collaborated on
the packaging and identity for a line of handmade inks.
7. Photos by Chris Glancey, a young photographer who approached Cristofaro
and other graffiti artists for a school project reworking images of cigarette
and alcohol brands that market to urban youth. |
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Maira Kalman
Maira Kalman is the author/illustrator of a dozen children's books including
Fireboat: The Heroic Adventures of John J. Harvey and the forthcoming SMARTYPANTS
(Pete in School). She is a cover artist for the New Yorker and the CEO of
M&Co, a product line distributed by the Museum of Modern Art.
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1. Fezzes collected from Morocco, Egypt, France, and American Masonic lodges.
The first one Kalman acquired found its way into an exhibition and a book,
Hey Willy, See the Pyramids. The IBM Selectric typewriter is used daily.
2. Rex tin lard bucket, bought last summer in Texas during a car trip with
Rick Meyerowitz. Its shape, utilitarian aspect, and typography thrill Kalman.
"How can you go wrong with Rex, which is so regal for a lard bucket?"
she asks. "I'm happy as a clown."
3. Zupa rubber-ball clock, which Kalman designed for the Museum of Modern
Art. |
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4. Pair of red Comme des Garçons shoes, never worn, size 8 1/2.
They've made an appearance in almost every project Kalman has done since she
bought them three years ago.
5. Piece of Dada ephemera by Tristan Tzara that Kalman gave to her late
husband, the designer Tibor Kalman, many years ago.
6. Grade-school reading card, a gift from Isaac Mizrahi that reads, "It
looked like a little man." It will appear in her next book, SMARTYPANTS.
7. The desk is a Blickman surgical table on wheels, obtained through Kalman's
brother-in-law, a surgical supply salesman. "Everything should be on
wheels," she says. |
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