At the party last night I was talking to Anne Marie, the girl who ran the workshop I attended earlier in the day, because both of us thought we’d met before and couldn’t figure out where (our best bet was in Boston, but still couldn’t figure it out totally). Regardless, we were talking about how the workshop came about, as I wasn’t sure if it was initially part of W+K’s strategy for the brand. (Turns out, it wasn’t, but rather something that Levi’s got pitched).
But we both did agree that no matter what sort of corporate sponsorship there was, and even though it was a huge PR stunt, it was the absolute best kind possible. As she put it, “it’s PR, but it’s fucking awesome.”
The photocopier was free for anyone to come in and use, with zines hanging all around and a bit about the how all great zines start with a photocopier, and a note to “Print your f&*#ing life.” A silkscreen studio, darkroom, exposing machine, not to mention two giant letterpress machines and a ton of wood type. All for the public to come in and learn and use. Computers sat in the back with Adobe CS5, but who really gives a shit about computers in a setting like this.
Levi’s campaign right now (all about work) is kind of great, but in this setting, it’s fantastic and inspiring. This was nothing but encouragement for people to learn, to be creative, to take some time from their lives to realize maybe what printing is or at least have some fun.
If there’s any type of advertising that will work on me, it’s this kind of advertising. Nothing about this appealed to anything negative stereotype or lowered the bar on visual culture. If anything, it raised the bar about 400%. This was pro-active, and from the beginning (when Mission locals had vandalized it due to its corporate nature) I felt that it was such a bold statement that anti-corporate sentiment falls short of realizing that if there is anything good about corporations, it’s this right here.
I’m not going to go out and re-stock my wardrobe filled with shit from Levi’s, but chances are next time I want a t-shirt, I’ll probably pick it up from them. Because there aren’t many other major companies I see right now doing things like this. Clothing companies can talk all they want about being made in America (or at least sweatshop free), but this is the difference between a company and a brand. But as far as I’m concerned, if it keeps Levi’s interested in doing things like this, I’ll certainly support them over anywhere else.
Levi’s elevated their brand with this, and I’m trying to find an excuse to fly to New York to get to experience the photography workshop opening up in October and running through December. If nothing else, this entire place was, somewhat ironically, about DIY. Sure, there were a couple shirts and jeans for sale in the middle of the floor, but it took up a minimum amount of space. I’d imagine you’d be allowed to screenprint on them if you bought one.
There are many aspects of the world that are inspiring. Just living in the Tenderloin here in San Francisco inspires me on a daily basis, but that’s more in a way to push myself to never give up. It’s also visually enamoring in many ways. But seldom have I ever seen something a corporation does and thought, “Man, that is just spectacular. That makes me want to go do something with my life.”
So kudos to Levi’s, and the print shop, and the however many people it managed to get to make their first zine or poster, explore the idea of sentiment on paper and see what all designers would do with their life if the medium allowed for such time to be granted to the craft. I wish it was a permanent fixture in the Mission (or anywhere), but for now I’m just glad I got to see it once, on the last day.
Due to scheduling (aka my weekends being taken up by freelance work), I wasn’t able to spend the massive amount of time I wished to spend at The Levi’s Workshop (AKA: missed Sagmeister, Bob Mould, and doing a bunch of awesome free print work). I’d walked by it before, but until yesterday wasn’t able to hang out there. 826 had set up a special mini-workshop for the volunteer designers, and five of us got to go and hand set some wood type and make some prints and take home a poster.
I went back for the closing party and got put on the list at the last second and all the work that had been produced over the two months (some by famous artists and designers, some just by people who came in) was up on the walls. There was an open bar, and so then it turned into a dance party for about an hour. I’m not fond of dance parties, except when the view is of all this crazy good print work.
Six designers who have names that start with M: Mike Giesser has some pretty looking design work, as does Mikael Floysand. In to a few of the works that Marco Muller does. Masato Nakada has interesting navigation to say the least, but the work is pretty solid. Mike Abbink has some top notch cleaned up work. Mathieu Lambert has some good stuff going on.
The Oh, Snap! blog consistently reminds me I need to improve my photography skills, and recently gave a shout out to an old pal Rob Dobi. In to Joe Skilton’s images.
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The car is on fire and there’s no driver at the wheel
and the sewers are all muddied with a thousand lonely suicides
and a dark wind blows.
The government is corrupt
and we’re on so many drugs
with the radio on and the curtains drawn.
We’re trapped in the belly of this horrible machine
and the machine is bleeding to death.
The sun has fallen down.
And the billboards are all leering.
And the flags are all dead at the top of their poles.
It went like this:
The buildings tumbled in on themselves,
mothers clutching babies, picked through the rubble
and pulled out their hair.
The skyline was beautiful on fire,
all twisted metal stretching upwards.
Everything washed in a thin orange haze.
I said, “Kiss me, you’re beautiful -
these are truly the last days.”
You grabbed my hand and we fell into it,
like a daydream. Or a fever.
We woke up one morning and fell a little further down,
for sure it’s the valley of death.
I open up my wallet
and it’s full of blood.
Words can’t really describe how profoundly changed I was the first time I heard this. Granted, it’s not Godspeed’s best song, nor is it my favorite. Nor is it even the first thing I heard from them; I had Slow Riot For New Zero Kanada before F#A#, and had been listening to Silver Mt Zion’s This Is Our Punk Rock long before that.
But this is just one of those things that resonates, that on some days when the world is so unforgiving and there’s nothing but the weight in your chest and the dissonance of the heat and nothing makes sense that this is the closest thing you’ll get to an answer for anything. I keep ruining things. I had plans for this summer, and this is why I never make plans for things.
This is a pretty great read, and certainly applicable to me, if not most of my friends. Solid NYT magazine piece for sure. Love long form journalism, especially pieces that make me feel a little less alone.
Also fine reading about Alaska, which again, pretty true. State is a political swampfest. Not that I really know what that is, but it sounds right.
I was getting lunch today and saw a sign that said “Order Here” and I just read it as “Pander More.” Ugh. (Speaking of lunch I was grabbing a sandwich at The Toaster Oven, and at least inside they make legitimately good signage out of ITC American Typewriter. What!)
It’s a “Listen to all your early pressings of Planes Mistaken For Stars 7″ records” kind of day and my alarm hasn’t even gone off.
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Screaming pretty holds no weight here, boy.
You’ve passed the point where dreams and promises ever meant anything.
And everyone has an answer for every fucking thing.
And everyone knows exactly what to believe to smooth through their days.
But where are we without wonder?
And I wonder where’s the life in living
if only to breathe?
I won’t believe.
This was my anthem sophomore year of college. I did a poster on this song, stood up in front of the class and recited the lyrics, saying it was how I felt being at school, surrounded by people aching to learn how to best sell out and nobody taking the art of design seriously. I didn’t make that many friends in that class.
I knew this weekend was going to be tough for awhile now. Why a bunch of other things in life have come up at the same time is just insanity.
This is probably my favorite movie of the past decade. This is the single best John Hughes movie that John Hughes never made. I would imagine this only grows in cult status, and in 20 years it’s next to Ferris Bueller’s Day Off in the annals of absolutely perfect coming of age tales (but for post-college instead of post-high school). I’d start quoting lines, but I’d never stop. Best movie, best movie.
Kind of into the aesthetics being presented in the various links Daydream Lily puts up. Specifically stuff like Indgila Samad Ali‘s work. Nobody At The Wheel is probably great most of the time. Schaharazad is Sarah Rose Smiley, worth checking out.
