On March 29, Kurt printed a variation of an old design that had been sitting dormant and neglected, having never seen the light of day. Until now! It felt like a good way to start off 2020 and a much-needed bright spot during these otherwise unusual days. The edition features a randomized mix of colors in a tight edition of 19. All signed, dated, and numbered.
Somehow never got around to posting this little gem from 2019. Another one that was years in the making and finally wrapped up late last year. Four colors on mustard yellow stock. In the shop if you want it.
This one was a couple of seasons in the making – but it’s finally ready for the world.
Five colors on found paper. Available at the Cherokee Heights Arts Festival in Marietta Georgia on Saturday, November 11. But there’s only one to be had, so be quick! See you there?
Pop colors and geometry. What else do you really need?
This one – along with a bunch of new, new, new work – will be available at our shop at the Cherokee Heights Arts Festival in Marietta, Georgia on Saturday, November 11. See you there?
At some point in recent years the image of this hazard sign popped into my head and I had to recreate it. There was some allure to taking a simple, banal caution message and recreating it with my own hands. Would the impact and meaning be drained from it once isolated and out of context? Maybe. Sort of. But this wasn’t the time for such questions. The task was just something that needed to be done.
I was obsessed with road signs as a kid. The graphic forms and bold colors. The deceptive scale. The simplicity. The immediacy. The minimalism. As Frank Stella once said of his hard-edged, geometric paintings, “What you see is what you see.” Well, I saw what I saw in those signs – and it was awesome. It’s no wonder I was soon obsessed with pop art, posters, packaging, signage and typography. They’re all clean, simple, designed things.
I was so obsessed that my dad and I salvaged an arrow sign (seen in this photograph) from a knocked-down post when I was in elementary school. We were driving along and saw the sign – still attached to the post – strewn off to the side of the road peeking out from a thicket of tall grass. To see it languishing there, out of reach, was just too much. We went back that evening with some tools – under the cover of darkness – released it from the post and took it home. Dad did the heavy lifting. I stood lookout. I was so excited. I couldn’t believe that the thing was sitting in our living room. I stared at it all evening.
I was so very obsessed that my mom made scale replicas of my favorite road signs with poster board and permanent marker. She faithfully recreated the precise circles and arcs of the No U Turn sign by tracing the perimeter of a mixing bowl. She was a trooper. I just sat back and art directed to assure that the details were totally, completely accurate. We amassed quite the collection. As props they made bike riding a treat for me and a nuisance for everyone else – all needed to obey the posted signage.
I’m glad I kept this sign. It brightened my days back in the suburbs of Philadelphia and it brightens my days in our workshop here in Georgia.
So here, again, is Untitled. Pure and simple. Perfect.
Mom, Dad, PennDOT – this one’s for you.