bloody marvellous.

bloody marvellous.

Film title sequences have become a mini art form in their own right, with the incomparable Saul Bass showing the way in the 1960s and more recent exponents like Kyle Cooper breaking new boundaries with his work on Se7en. Budget constraints have meant that TV has been left lagging behind, especially in the UK, where you immediately think of the perennially wet, sloping roofs across Manchester’s Coronation Street or the stock footage of a lumbering tortoise that heralds the opening of ‘One Foot in the Grave’. But True Blood, HBO’s excellent swamp-goth vampire series, has significantly raised the bar. The sublime opening credits, by Seattle’s Digital Kitchen, create an evocative visual tableau that perfectly sets the scene for what’s to follow. Fast cuts of slo-mo snakes and bloody roadkill are skilfully juxtaposed with Pentecostal rapture, sleazy sexual encounters and ancient car wreckage. Decay, blood, religion, voodoo, and the brooding intensity the Deep South, seep through in 65 masterfully edited shots. Jace Everett’s sweetly sinister country song ‘Bad Things’ provides a fitting soundtrack. Catch it if you can – the series starts on C4 on 7 October.


True Blood Main Titles from DIGITALKITCHEN on Vimeo.

keep it simple.

keep it simple.

Although I wasn’t exactly sure what rooibos tea was when I bought this, the packaging (designed by the good people at Pearlfisher) made it irresistible. And actually, as it turns out, I really quite like the stuff. Apart from the background being a perfect shade of orange, the anthropomorphic, hand-drawn type has an arresting, child-like quality, which cleverly suggests the tea’s natural, organic provenance. The doodle-like illustrations not only convey energy and fun, but show you that you’re about as far away from a slick, processed drink as you could be. The copy wasn’t bad either, personable without trying too hard:

“Here at Kromland Farm, we’ve been cultivating rooibos since 1902. But that's nothing – South Africa’s indigenous Khoisan people have been enjoying its rich flavour and potent heath benefits for millennia”.

Unfortunately, it seems I won’t be. Sainsbury’s seem to have stopped stocking Kromland Farm.

white man in helsinki art gallery.

white man in helsinki art gallery.

With a couple of hours to kill in Helsinki, I wandered into the Museum of Contemporary Art Kiasma, an intriguingly shaped glass-and-zinc building designed by the US architect Steven Holl. The exhibits were a mix of Finnish and international modern art, which were beautifully set off by the gentle, organic shapes of the rooms. Of course, you can always judge an art gallery by its gift shop, and Kiasma’s was packed with curious gems. Though I was sorely tempted to trade my Euros for various arty, esoteric books, I held back to retain my hand-luggage only status on the flight back. I did, however, pick up this card designed by a pair of English illustrators – Bob and Roberta Smith. Of course I agree entirely with the sentiment, but I’m also busy trawling through Chris Salewicz’s mighty biography of Joe Strummer, so I just had to have it.

In case you’re interested, Bob and Roberta's cards are available – along with efforts by David Shrigley, Magda Archer and Vic Reeves – at www.politecards.com.

having your cake and eating it.

having your cake and eating it.

Last week I visited Helsinki for the first time. It was at the behest of my client Nokia, who wanted me there for an afternoon’s workshop. It can be hard to get an impression of a place in such a short space of time, especially when you are working for most of it, but Helsinki seemed at once strange and familiar, with its unusual mix of Scandinavian and quasi-Soviet architecture, and often striking juxtaposition of old and new.

What won me over to the city and its people (apart from feeling incredibly safe as I trod unfamiliar streets, even at the dead of night) was its endearing quirkiness. For example, after said workshop, Kokoro & Moi, the buzzy design company who’d hosted the workshop, invited us to a totally mad ‘cake party’, organised as part of Helsinki Design Week. Fashion, architectural and graphic designers had been challenged to create a conceptual piece (of cake). These were exhibited to a discerning crowd of designery types at a chi-chi furniture store. Among the various entrants were a cake as a giant coin, a loose self-portrait, and a chocolate offering shaped as a poo. Kokoro & Moi’s effort was a ‘build-it-yourself’ cake – plain sponge slices on which you could plaster jam, cream or hundreds and thousands with the provided plastic spades. A flouring of self-expression, you could say.

mugs of England.

mugs of England.

The latest patriotic offerings from our friends Mark Faulkner and Gill Naylor at the highly esteemed repeat repeat. The ‘Britannia’ range proudly wears its heritage on its sleeve with a variety of graphic interpretations of the phrase ‘Made in England’. With people increasingly concerned about the carbon footprint of the imported goods they buy, it’s reassuring to know that these bone-china beauties have been designed and made in this green and pleasant (if a bit wet and miserable) land.

Horberry's trade secrets.

Horberry's trade secrets.

Fellow writer and 26 member Roger Horberry has a new book out – the rather self-explanatory ‘Brilliant Copywriting – How to Craft the Most Interesting and Effective Copy Imaginable’. Designed to give aspiring commercial wordsmiths the ammunition they need to get that first tentative toe on the ladder, it’s full of useful hints and tips on everything from editing, to ideas, to how to behave in meetings. At the back there’s a series of interviews with what he describes as ‘brilliant copywriters’ – Jim included. So for a small, but highly worthwhile investment on Amazon, you can find out about Jim’s main influences, what kind of briefs he favours, and even how he deals with occasional bout of writer’s block.

good point.

good point.

Something for all you stationery geeks out there. The new Tombow Airpress is a satisfyingly chunky little number with a crafty pressurised mechanism which allows it to write upside down, on wet or dusty paper, and in hot or cold conditions. Just about anywhere and on anything, in other words. It has a tough, spring-loaded clip that extends almost 45°, so you can attach it here, there and everywhere. It feels virtually indestructible, writes like a dream (even for someone who doesn’t usually like ballpoints), and best of all, it comes in orange.

paper bags for paperbacks.

paper bags for paperbacks.

We were having a bit of a clear out (actually a lot of a clear out) yesterday, and came across this cute early 1980s branded paper bag. Deb must have carried some text books back to her halls of residence in it all those years ago. It stuck me how infinitely more eco these are than your regular bookshop plastic bags, and how much more suitable they are for books in terms of size and medium. Maybe we weren’t quite as profligate as we remember. The Penguin logos, of course look punchy, quirky and powerful – even in two colours on poor-quality paper. While I’m at it, I should probably recommend two related books: ‘Penguin by Design’, a loving visual history of the publishers by the excellent Phil Baines; and ‘Seven Hundred Penguins’, a superb compendium of Penguin covers from 1935 to recent times.

taking it to the wire.

taking it to the wire.

Just came across this irresistible piece of packaging in my DIY cupboard. I’ve had it for some time, but fortunately have managed to live my life without recourse to wire wool for several years. The Bauhaus-like colours and no-nonsense type are enough to hook you in, and I even love the name, ‘Trollull’, which has such a lyrical ring to it. The immaculately placed red line at the bottom cleverly references the German flag, as this is a quality German product. But best of all is the laid-back 2D figure offering to shake your hand. Reminscent of Robert Crumb’s iconic ‘Keep on trucking’ character, he instantly brings a smile to your face and the inference that he has long, wiry hair borders on graphic genius.