What makes you accept or reject a new piece of work? Is it down to money, chemistry or your internal hypocrisy meter?
Here’s a piece I wrote for the Designer Breakfasts series. What do you think? What makes you say yes or no?
What makes you accept or reject a new piece of work? Is it down to money, chemistry or your internal hypocrisy meter?
Here’s a piece I wrote for the Designer Breakfasts series. What do you think? What makes you say yes or no?
Believe in clouds. Be stubborn. Keep your rococo aesthetic. Lob your opinions upwards. Rise up like an octopus, like a rubber parachute, like a chewy umbrella. Don’t believe the hype. Investigate peace. Be joyously, defiantly subjective. Send your characters to remedial school. Talk to the person next to you. Walk into a story. Listen to the voice in your ear. Be careful because it’s pretty hardcore. Form the dough into convex sets and place on a separating hyperplane. Put on yellow wellies and walk into a flooded room. Make important decisions in the moment. Have your superhero and eat it. Put a little piece of your heart into everything you do. Orchestrate emotion on a massive scale. See the new world through the tear gas. Don’t be afraid.
This is a snapshot manifesto drawn from the words of the speakers at a brilliant, inspiring day yesterday at The Conway Hall for Story 2013. Here’s who said what…
Believe in clouds. The Children’s Republic of Shoreditch at The Ministry of Stories.
Be stubborn. Singer Edwyn Collins.
Keep your rococo aesthetic. NYC artist Molly Crabapple.
Lob your opinions upwards. Rob Manuel, co-founder of B3TA.
Rise up like an octopus, like a rubber parachute, like a chewy umbrella. Children’s writer and illustrator Laura Dockrill.
Don’t believe the hype. Public Enemy / Digital consultant Alex Balfour.
Investigate peace. Film producer Rebecca O’Brien.
Be joyously, defiantly subjective. Molly Crabapple.
Send your characters to remedial school. Ben Boucquelet, creator of The Amazing World of Gumball.
Talk to the person next to you. Mary Hamilton, zombie herder.
Walk into a story. Playwright Alecky Blythe.
Listen to the voice in your ear. Alecky Blythe.
Be careful because it’s pretty hardcore. Ben Boucquelet.
Form the dough into convex sets and place on a separating hyperplane. Economist Diane Coyle.
Put on yellow wellies and walk into a flooded room. Fiona Romeo of the National Maritime Museum.
Make important decisions in the moment. Animator Michael Please.
Have your superhero and eat it. Academic and writer Alice Bell.
Put a little piece of your heart into everything you do. Ben Boucquelet.
Orchestrate emotion on a massive scale. Alex Balfour.
See the new world through the tear gas. Molly Crabapple.
Don’t be afraid. Molly Crabapple.
Anja grew up in the Swedish countryside outside Helsingborg, near Copenhagen. Now Art Director of the New Statesman, she steps onto the Designer Soapbox to talk about her love of illustration, the Swedish design aesthetic and having ideas in airports.
What’s your day job?
As the Art Director of the New Statesman magazine, I’m responsible for the overall look of the magazine. I work with my team of picture editors and designers to design the magazine and get the right ‘pace’ and balance of text and images across the magazine as a whole.
What do you like to do in your spare time?
I really like the arts scene in London. It’s amazing, compared to Sweden, because there are so many places to visit. I recently went to see the new tanks at Tate Modern. It’s a great space.
I’m trying to find time to work on some personal projects as well. I have loads of ideas but don’t seem to be able to find the time at the moment!
What do people get wrong about you?
Although I tell them that I’m from Sweden, people tend to mix it up with Switzerland. And of course spelling my name.
What do you appreciate about the Swedish design aesthetic?
Swedish design is very clean, light and airy in everything from architecture to graphic design. That’s something I like in design – clean lines and white space combined with great ideas.
Rodeo magazine celebrates Scandinavian creativity; its creative director is Stefania Malmsten. Swedish design duo Studio Yra do great products inspired by typography that I really like, and of course I’m also a big fan of the classic Scandinavian furniture designers. I admire some Danish design studios, too, like Hvass & Hannibal, for their colourful, simple graphic designs.
What first inspired you to become a designer?
I always wanted to be an artist when I was growing up, but my parents thought I should get a proper job. So I studied physics and maths A levels, then moved to London and met a graphic designer. I thought, ‘That’s interesting – it’s like being an artist, but it’s a real job.’ So I did a foundation in graphic design at LCC, then studied editorial illustration as part of an BA LCC course in Graphic Media Design.
How did you find your first job?
During my degree I did lots of internships with design companies, including a freelance role with a company called Itchy Media which turned into a full-time job. Then I worked as a graphic designer at Time Out.
How did your career develop from there?
Three years ago, I went to the New Statesman as Art Editor, then became Art Director two years ago.
What do you love about your job?
I love that it’s a weekly magazine, so things move quickly and you really have to think on your feet. I find that quite exciting. It’s great to work with really bright, interesting people – writers and journalists. And personally, I’ve learned a lot about politics. I’ve re-designed the New Statesman website and I’m working on a new iPad app and it’s great to be able to design on different platforms for a magazine. I’m really exited about the opportunities for editorial design on tablets and within digital design.
How do you decide which images to use?
Sometimes the editor will have a very clear idea of what needs to be visualised. Other times, we’ll choose an image or layout that goes with the particular headline or type of article. It’s all about looking at the magazine as a whole. To get the best pace across the magazine, we work closely with the editorial team.
Infographics have become really fashionable in the last couple of years. They bring something new; you can visualise quite hard-to-understand topics in a really simple way.
For other pieces, a good illustration by someone who can really draw adds so much value. I try to use illustration for the cover when it’s suitable. I work with one artist, David Young, who paints very realistically, which works really well for humorous political subjects and offers a fresh alternative to cartoons. With artworks like David’s illustrations, you can see that they took time and they have that human element that you can connect to which I think adds value. There are so many talented illustrators out there and the world is pretty small, but with email we have the opportunity to work with people around the world which is really exciting.
Which other magazine art directors do you admire?
I really like Italian IL magazine, art directed by Francesco Franchi. It has a bold design which feels current. Bloomberg in New York do exciting things like using graphics throughout the whole magazine. Acne puts together a beautiful magazine every six months on newsprint. THE GERMANS is a magazine that launched last year that looks really good. Another favourite is Apartamento, a Spanish ‘everyday interiors magazine’ that is full of great articles. The format is like a small book with really organic layouts – I think it’s really lovely.
What do you like about working with writers?
I really enjoy working with journalists and writers, and have learned a lot working on the New Statesman. Sometimes there’s almost no contact with a writer, other times there’s a lot. It depends on the writer. Some have very strong ideas and want to be involved with the choice of visuals, and it’s always fun when a writer is engaged and wants to contribute ideas.
What drives you mad about writers?
It can be frustrating when a journalist has written too much and doesn’t want their work cut!
What do you think about the trend towards long forms of writing?
The print version of the New Statesman features articles several thousand words long, and I think there’s a need for long articles that are a counterpoint to the quick, short pieces people read online. They’re the kind of thing you want to read on the sofa on a Sunday afternoon – longer printed articles can really expand on ideas. I’m interested in a quarterly magazine called Delayed Gratification, a ‘Slow Journalism’ publication, which is all about taking a slower look at news, months after the event.
What’s your favourite gadget?
I use the Next Bus app a lot. Does that count?
What’s your favourite place for creative inspiration?
Waiting in an airport is good because you have time in between two things. I quite often find myself drawing ideas on the back of the boarding card.
Who’s your design hero / heroine?
George Lois changed the idea of magazine covers in the 60s and his covers for Esquire are great. Some of the East European designers like Roman Cieslewicz are very inspirational as well.
What’s your favourite book?
‘Things As They Are – Photojournalism in context since 1955′. Photo essays are presented in the original context of the magazine that they were published in, so it’s really interesting in regards to layouts.
What can creatives learn from the way that Jacques Tati uses sound in his 1958 film, Mon Oncle?
As someone who works with words, sometimes it’s great to come across storytelling that does away with them altogether. Read my article for a 26 / D&AD project, The Story Works, on how sound tells a story in Mon Oncle by Jacques Tati.
Dave Petherbridge is one half of the Two Teas design partnership based in West Yorkshire. As ‘Purveyors Of The Finest Pamphlets, Motifs, Slogans & That’, the agency works with clients including the RSPB, Kelly Hoppen, Motorola and WharfeBank Brewery.
They may work with a brewery, but these are people with a serious love of tea. Catch up with them on Twitter @Two_Teas, as they send their tweets from inside a giant teapot on top of a hill in Yorkshire, looking out at the world using a periscope through the spout. Just don’t mention coffee.
Here, Dave talks about what he loves about his job, what drives him crazy about writers and how to find inspiration in a packet of frozen peas.
What’s your day job?
Being half of a small agency with some big clients, I share responsibility for everything from bringing in the work to taking out the trash.
What do you like to do in your spare time?
Spare time is a rare and cherished thing for anyone with their own small business. Fun and fresh air are usually a top priority.
What do people get wrong about you?
Forgetting the sugar in my tea.
Why did you want to be a designer?
Every time we returned from the shops, my mum discovered me clutching anything from brochures and pamphlets to simple handouts, promoting everything from films to frozen peas – if I liked it, I picked it up.
Almost 30 years on and the attraction has become a career driving passion. I’m still collecting imagery, ideas and ways of working. Thankfully the collecting has become digital these days.

The supermarket as source of inspiration (see Sainsbury’s Own Label book by Jonny Trunk for striking 70s packaging)
What was your first job?
I started my career at a small agency in East Yorkshire with a despotic but brilliant Creative Director. It was both a baptism by fire and a wonderful way to learn my craft, at speed – especially after the indulgent deadlines of university.
How did your career develop from there?
I moved to West Yorkshire and spent the ensuing years working for a handful of very different agencies. Art Direction became a passion, allowing me to work with photographers and also directly with writers as more of an old school ‘creative team’. Working with passionate, creative, positive people is a wonderful privilege.
Traditionally a print designer, I have had to evolve over the last couple of years as our work is now 98% online.
What do you love about your job?
Every day is different. Things change so fast that even after all these years it still excites and challenges me. I’m fortunate to have seen such seismic changes in the industry. I started in 1996 on a drawing board (you may want to Google that, kids) and now find myself working in ways that seem to completely change with the seasons. I always said it was the best job in the world, and it is.

Magazine ad for a.b.art Swiss watches. “The text on the strap is a day in the life of the owner,” says Dave. “The writer typed the text into a mask I’d created,with me kerning the type to fit exactly. I just about drove him nuts.”
How’s business?
Despite all the portents of economic doom, our clients have managed to continue to grow and be successful due to their positivity and ability to work smarter, as well as harder. Being a small, agile agency with a non-traditional model, we are able to service international brands and one-man bands without difficulty.
What do you enjoy about working with words and writers?
Words originally meant typography to me. During my time at university I was actually taught how to hand render type. Can you believe that? And I have been much the richer for it. Understanding type is key to working with it. Too often, designers confuse typesetting with merely typing in words. Letters are a thing of beauty to be individually appreciated. They can be kerned and aligned in order to create something beautiful. With more typeface and combinations available to convey and reinforce any point or emotion, words will always be an intrinsic part of how I design.
As my career developed I was fortunate to work with many, very different writers – each as individual in approach as the typefaces available to set their work. I have always envied good writers in the same way I do actors, for their ability to portray any character, delivered in any tone of voice – and especially their ability to switch between styles.
What drives you crazy about writers?
Apart from envying their understanding of the richness of the English language, it does sometimes seem that writers feel the need to give us quantity instead of quality for fear of not earning the money.
How do you see the interplay between words and design changing in your work?
The way we use words as a company has changed drastically over the last couple of years, essentially due to the shift towards digital work. SEO changed words into a very functional element, removing the need for any real depth or audience engagement. Now that has all changed once more thanks to Google’s new machine-learning algorithm developed by Navneet Panda. Google Panda has seen the rise of ‘content’ as a driving force in search engine rankings. It has brought depth, interest and engagement back to the fore. Essentially it rewards site content that’s written by humans for humans – and punishes those who fail to engage. This is both a challenge and an opportunity for writers.
What’s your favourite gadget?
For my 12th birthday I received my very first Sony Walkman – half the size of a breeze block and about as sophisticated. Through countless evolutions, reinventions and more ‘AA’ batteries than I care to remember, the mix tapes have been replaced by playlists. My iPods may be infinitely more advanced, but the experience is still as enjoyable. That said, I do have real trouble rewinding MP3s with a pencil. It’s not all progress.
What’s your favourite place for creative inspiration?
I’m usually at my most inspired when I remove myself from any deliberate creative process. I also crack problems by going for a walk, and am regularly thankful for having a camera on my phone.
Who’s your design hero?
Harry Beck created a true classic with his 1931 London Underground Map.
Gill Thomas has played many roles since she left Liverpool Poly with a fresh BA Hons in Graphic Design. She’s been a designer, team leader, creative partner and board director. She’s worked for some of the most influential design agencies around, including Pentagram, Newell & Sorrell and The Partners, and her clients have ranged from the BBC and Virgin Atlantic to the Design Council. She’s also witnessed huge changes in the design industry.
Here she talks about her work in the new Throwaway Lines exhibition, her latest role as an independent creative consultant, and her thoughts on writers and the design business today.
You’re currently taking part in the Throwaway Lines exhibition at the Free Word centre. What was it like creating a frame for the short story?
Andy Hayes gave me the scrap of paper that inspired the short story ‘Ella does some remembering’ by Nick Parker. The writing said ‘TWIST STEPPER WITH BUNGEE-CORDS’, and the story was about a woman who tries to recreate happy childhood memories. At the beginning she’s on an exercise machine, imitating the feeling of running on the top of Box Hill with a kite; at another point, she’s microwaving geraniums to remember the smell of summer at her grandparents’ house.
I liked the fact that the story was about a woman going back to her childhood, so I created a childlike Teletubby-esque frame that was covered with very green fake grass and daisies, with a kite that flew away from the frame. I researched sticking Astroturf onto wood and ordered lots of artificial daisies. I had to order the daisies twice. A hundred daisies are still on their way to me from China! Then I took all the elements into the kitchen and stuck them together with a glue gun. I felt it looked quite naive, which was the point.
What is wonderful in the exhibition is the contrast of so many different ideas. People put a lot of thought and effort into them. A lot of the stories were quite dark and challenging. I was pleased I got such an optimistic, fun, energetic story.
Going back to the start of your career, what first inspired you to become a designer?
I was always good at art at school and thought it would be a good thing to do as a job. But it turned out that there’s a bit more to it than that!
How did you find your first job?
I found my first proper job by chance. I was helping out a friend in a small design studio in Notting Hill. While I was there someone mentioned that there was a company around the corner who were looking for junior designers and maybe I should go and see them in my lunch hour. I’d not actually heard of them but thought it would be worth a look. That company turned out to be Pentagram – and after three interviews I was in.
What work do you do?
I do three types of work.
How have your thoughts about writing changed over the years?
As a junior designer, I was always more interested in pictures. I thought the copy was just grey stuff to drop into the visuals and probably didn’t even read it. But after a few years, when I started working at The Partners and gained more experience, I realised that the copy had a job to do. The words had to communicate something and make a difference. They are, of course, very important in creating a brand and positioning a business.
What qualities do you look for in a writer?
Apart from having a talent for writing, it’s also important that writers listen, and understand that they’re part of a team.
If I put a writer in front of a client, I want to be confident that they’re informed, that they understand the client’s business, their peers, their competitors and their offer. They have to be keen to find out about the client’s culture, how they like to work and what kind of people they are. A writer will be brought in at a certain stage of the project’s journey, so they need to understand:
If a team has just spent months defining a brand and its positioning, we’re not necessarily looking for new ideas. We’re probably looking for a clear and concise articulation of the information we’ve gathered so far.
Particularly in this climate, it’s vital to make sure the client is comfortable with what the project team is doing. So that means building on the trust that the agency has already created, and not throwing in a curve ball or lots of options when that’s not part of the brief.
What kind of writing do you prefer?
The Partners was a highly creative world, and we often used to work with writers who’d been in advertising, ideas-based writers who wanted to play. They wrote witty, clever headlines, and I enjoyed that playful, creative approach.
But sometimes a more straightforward approach is needed. It’s important that writers enjoy what they’re writing and are passionate about their work, but sometimes overly complex language can get in the way of the message.
Occasionally writers seem to think they need to do more, add more, when in fact an extra metaphor can confuse a positioning statement. More often than not, I need writers to be clear and precise.
How’s business at the moment?
I’m as busy as ever, but no one’s taking any risks at the moment, so there are more smaller projects and tactical work. But because clients are nervous of making big decisions, they are looking for a more focused approach. As an independent, I can offer the perspective and experience of years spent working for large agencies, and I can also be flexible, offering a few days here and there which can really make a difference to a project.
It will be interesting to see what happens when we finally come out of this recession. Clients have got used to being pragmatic, pared down and engaged at a real level, working with agencies and consultants who understand and focus on where they can add real value to a client’s business. I think they’ll still want that approach, but will also appreciate fresh thinking, confidence, directness and the energy of good ideas.
We weren’t quite sure what would happen when we unleashed the power of children’s imaginations on the 21st century objects in the Modern British Childhood exhibition. But we were amazed at the results.
A ten year old girl gives the MMR vaccine a voice – “When I was born, everybody feared me”, a Lily Allen dress insists it’s “no gangsta” and a nine year old boy imagines his trainers squabbling in a cupboard, each pair fighting to be chosen first.
While adult writers from 26 responded to 20th century objects in the exhibition at the Museum of Childhood, children from Rushmore Primary School in Hackney wrote about the 21st century objects on display.
Like the adults, the young writers had to respond in just 62 words – a sestude. The children wrote their sestudes during a series of workshops run by The Ministry of Stories, the creative writing and mentoring centre in East London.
Here, we ask the people involved what happened behind the scenes.
Getting to know the objects
Helen Roberts, Creative Learning Workshop Leader at the Ministry of Stories, is an Education Practitioner who specialises in community, museum and gallery projects. She devised and led four workshops for the children which took place over four weeks during the spring in 2012.
“Experiencing the Museum of Childhood’s collection first-hand was a huge inspiration for this project,” says Helen. “The children were clearly excited to have been invited to contribute to the Modern British Childhood exhibition, and took great pride in their writing. They questioned and critiqued the objects according to their own experiences, whilst responding to and reinventing them in imaginative and unexpected ways.”
Exploring poetry, rhythm and six word stories
Sarah Farley, a member of 26 who volunteers with the Ministry of Stories, describes the different stages of the workshops, where she acted as a writing mentor.
“During the first workshop at the museum we worked on describing objects in different ways, including writing about how a particular object made them feel. Rhian Harris, the director of the museum and curator of the exhibition, then introduced the actual objects and asked the kids if they’d like to write about them for the exhibition. The answer was a resounding Yes!”
The second and third workshops took place at the children’s school, and investigated different writing styles. “We used limericks to show poetry and rhythm,” says Sarah, “we used dialogue to start a conversation between the kids and their objects, we explored writing about time – last year, last month, etc – and we even used six-word stories to give them practice at writing to an exact number of words.”
The final workshop was dedicated to writing the children’s final pieces. “We told them they were completely free to write whatever they wanted about their object and in whatever style they liked,” Sarah explains. “One boy chose to write his piece about West Ham as a news article.”
Teletubby horror and Lily Allen bling
Children’s reactions to the museum objects were not always predictable. “There were a lot of laughs about the nappy, a lot of ‘bling’ references to the headphones and Lily Allen dress, and some of the girls were put off by the bra,” says Sarah. “But there were some darker elements too: many of them thought the Teletubbies were disturbing and they used them as the basis for horror stories. It’s interesting that the children saw them in that way, and goes to show that as adults we quickly lose touch with what really appeals to you as a child.”
“As kids, we’re driven more by our imaginations than by logic. But as we get older, we start to box ourselves in and give ourselves over to the logical part of our brains and become afraid of letting our minds run wild in all directions. Working with kids reminds me of the great fun you can have if you simply let go of the fear and give in to your imagination.”
“It kept on going nonsense!”
It wasn’t always easy for the children to get their ideas down on paper. One child said that the hardest part was writing the poem. “It kept on going nonsense!” For another, “The six word story was difficult because you couldn’t put descriptive words into it.”
But the overwhelming feedback was that this was a really enjoyable project. Asked what they liked best, the young writers said:
The kids got pretty good reviews themselves. “I love the pieces that our young writers have produced. They’re fresh, personal, fantastic,” says Lucy Macnab, Co-Director of the Ministry. Rhian Harris, the Museum’s Director and curator of the exhibition, is equally enthusiastic: “I think the children’s pieces are wonderful, really strong, inspiring stuff. They are going to provide a really important element to the exhibition – the child’s own response.”
Primary school, professional standards
Sarah was impressed by the way the children rose to the challenge of writing to a deadline and meeting the very precise word count – 62 words, no more, no less.
“The children tackled every exercise we gave them with enthusiasm and a lot of humour,” she says. “They had less than two hours to write, edit and deliver the final pieces. They all had clear ideas of what they wanted to say and were meticulous in getting the right number of words. In the end they met the deadline and hit a perfect word count. I reckon a lot of professional writers would have been stretched by that task.”
See the children’s writing at the Modern British Childhood exhibition at the Museum of Childhood until 14 April 2013.
This post originally appeared on the 26 Treasures of Childhood blog.