Journal Premium Vaughan Oliver by Cesar Marandin

Iconic graphic designer

« retrospective vaughan oliver at centre pompidou »

Vaughan Oliver has spent more than three decades creating beautifully weird, wonderful and influential work, helping reinvent the approach to record sleeve design. Perhaps most famous for his designs for record label 4AD’s bands such as the Pixies and Cocteau Twins, Oliver’s career has also spanned work with oddball

du 25 mars au 15 mai 2014

director David Lynch, and

projects in fashion, film,

liver is maybe best known for his work with various photographers under the names v23 and 23 Envelope, making iconic artwork for different artists such as Bush, TV on the Radio, Lush, UVS, Pixies, The Breeders, Bon Iver, Zomby, Cocteau Twins, This Mortal Coil and not the last for David Lynch. This kind of artistic work is what makes the difference between graphics warnings on a chariot and let’s say, a vehicle graphics from Calgary ! We’re all really exited about this.

dance and fine art.Ahead of his talk later this month, Visceral Pleasures : 30 years in 60 minutes, Design Week spoke to Oliver about his celebrated ambiguous style, the

This Iconic graphic designer has spent more than three decades creating beautifully weird, wonderful and influential work, helping reinvent the approach to record sleeve design. Perhaps most famous for his designs for record label 4AD’s bands such as the Pixies and Cocteau Twins, Oliver’s career has also spanned work with oddball director David Lynch, and projects in fashion, film, dance and fine art. Ahead of his talk later this month, Visceral Pleasures : 30 years in 60 minutes, Design Week spoke to Oliver about his celebrated ambiguous style, the importance of collaboration, and the death of designing for record sleeves. Last week, legendary filmmaker, David Lynch (Eraserhead, Blue Velvet, Mulholland Drive, Twin Peaks) released his debut solo, electronic single via iTunes, courtesy of UK label Sunday Best. Two physical format releases are planned for January: a triple gatefold deluxe vinyl package, and also a deluxe CD format. Art direction duties are in the more than capable hands of UK designer Vaughan Oliver.

biography

and the death of designing for record sleeves. Oliver is maybe best known for his work with various photographers under the names v23 and 23 Envelope, making iconic artwork for different artists such as Bush, TV on the Radio, Lush, UVS, Pixies,…

02 / 03

musician of his kind

v 23 D e s i g n

dav i ly n c h s e r i e s

b ac k to t h e e i g h t i e s

G r a p h i c i m p l e m e n t.

gallery

importance of collaboration,

interview

04 / 05

offset

v 23 D e s i g n

s u g g e s t a n d c r e at e

s l e e v e a rt

head over heels

06 / 07

t h e n i n e t i e s wav e

h i p e d co l l a b o .

a l b u m cov e r s

i n h o u s e wo r k

s oc i a l i m pact

ESAG Penninghen 31 rue du Dragon, 75006 Paris

At home in Epsom he strides round a book-and-CDlined office. There is a large glass of wine in his hand that, at all times, looks as if it is about to disengorge itself all over the room. But it never does. He is refreshingly idiosyncratic (his first action is to soundly bollock the interlocutor for taking sugar in his coffee : “You HAVE to cut it out John !”). And then once again for mistaking him for a Geordie. He comes from Sunderland ! He has a flush to his cheek and a twinkle in his eye, which make him both very avuncular and slightly diabolical. When his blond-haired son walks into the office he barks: “BECKETT! Say hello to John !” And then starts summoning up cash from around the room for his son’s five-a-side match, while addressing me : “After Samuel, you see ? He was either going to be called Beckett or Pele ! Ha ha ha !” Then to his son : “Those were your first words weren’t they Beckett? I am un chien Andalusia ! Ha ha ha !” On cue Beckett gets embarrassed and protests : “D-a-a-d !” before leaving for footie. His eagerness to be a good host borders, once or twice, on paranoia. Despite knowing me to be a Pixies die-hard, he asks me if I’m bored about hearing about the stories behind the albums and worries that his answers aren’t exciting enough (when, to me they’re gold dust). Due to both of us being mildly deaf, the conversation

keeps descending into the kind of farcical exchange that used to form the backbone of jokes printed on the rear of England’s Glory matchboxes. While he’s no shrinking violet and seems quite at ease with his place in the world of alternative music and design, he obviously sees himself as a collaborator or even a cog in a bigger machine. Even though I spend the afternoon making him talk about himself he very rarely says ‘I’ ; instead he says ‘we’. And the ‘we’ always means something different. It means Ivo Watts-Russell and I, 4AD and I, the Pixies and I, Simon Larbalestier and I, the creative arts students of Epsom University talk, as is often the case with Northern chaps living down South, turns to where our families hail from and it’s not long before we’re chunnering on about Ireland and how the interviewer, in relative terms, loves Wexford and hates Dublin. You don’t paint a painting, worrying about the price. I think the people who are moaning about it John — it’s probably not aimed at them. I didn’t really stop to consider this stuff until after it was done. And then I read on the blogs that there was to be no new music. Well, that’s a Pixies issue. With respect to 4AD and the Pixies, they haven’t just stuck in an extra couple of tracks.

biography

Music music designer designer Written by Bustin Jieber for the first exhibition which happen at esag Penninghen the 28th of March 2014. Prior to the talk, I met up with Vaughan on a balmy and humid afternoon at the Desmond Tutu Center where he was staying with his son, Beckett.

biography

aughan Oliver cemented a name for himself in the world of graphic design by redefining album covers for the seminal British independent record label, 4AD. Similar to the Factory Records creative team of Tony Wilson and graphic designer Peter Saville, Oliver and 4AD founder Ivo Watts-Russell gave the label and musicians a distinct branding identity unseen in contemporary music. This collaboration led Oliver to establish two studios : 23 Envelope with photographer Nigel Grierson and v23 with designer Chris Bigg (their partnership close-up dissolved in 2008).

I was never interested in the sleeves with the bands on the front, so I liked seeing the imagination at work. You mentioned the Cocteau Twins. I think there’s something typical to Cocteau Twins sleeves that runs through most of their work, there’s a sense of ambiguity and mystery, you’re not quite sure what the hell all of this is about. You want to know more, but it allows you to bring your own interpretation. It stays open. In other words, viewing the sleeves is a three-part collaborative process between the artist, designer, and listener. It forces the listener to participate and dive in to the music. It’s lovely because that can cross-pollinate into different exhibitions, different locations, and different continents. A number of times people would come up to me and say, “You know that Cocteau Twins sleeve… I see this in it.” And I would respond, “Oh, that was never intended, but that’s bloody marvelous.” So you brought your imagination to it, it’s been open enough.

Over the years, Oliver has created classic album covers for the Cocteau Twins, Ultra Vivid Scene, His Name Is Alive, Pixies, Throwing Muses, the Breeders, Lush, This Mortal Coil, Scott Walker, and Bush. His iconic use of typography, coupled with his stark (and sometimes humorous) imagery, reflected the somber and mysterious sounds emanating from what many considered the “golden era” of 4AD. In one of his first trips to New York City in 10 years, Oliver presented a lecture spanning his 30-year career as a graphic designer. Titled as “Visceral Pleasures” and hosted by AIGA/NY, the packed-tocapacity lecture included a presentation of his work (he later dubbed the lecture “30 years in 60 Minutes”) and a discussion about the impetus for each album cover.

FIRST TOUGH

1993

1985

A MUSICIAN OF HIS KIND

He illustrated how record sleeves, from front to back, acts as a relative and communicative tool for the listener. “My album covers are not meant for punch lines,” quipped Vaughan as he compared Joy Division’s seminal “Unknown Pleasures” cover to a close-up mock image of an open topics : humid rectum. The discussion ended with a 5 minute montage from selected album covers with a song by David Sylvian playing in the backdrop. Prior to the talk, I met up with Vaughan on a balmy and humid afternoon at the Desmond Tutu Center where he was staying with his son, Beckett.

round a book-and-CDlined office. There is a large glass of wine in his hand that, at all times, looks as if it is about to disengorge itself all over the room. But it never does. He is refreshingly idiosyncratic (his first action is to soundly bollock the interlocutor for taking sugar in his coffee: “You HAVE to cut it out John !”. And then once again for mistaking him for a Geordie. He comes from Sunderland ! He has a flush to his cheek and a twinkle in his eye, which make him both very avuncular. When his blond-haired son walks into the office he barks : BECKETT !

« one of the great designers » Sitting outside in a small patio area, we touched upon various topics: his long relationship with 4AD ; his views on the difference between a graphic designer and artist, and the “demise” of music packaging. Guy Anglade : I’ll admit, when I listened to a record from the Cocteau Twins or His Name is Alive in high school, your album designs puzzled me just as much as attempting to decipher the meaning and inscrutable lyrics from Elizabeth Fraser. It’s all a mystery. Vaughan Oliver : That’s why I like working in the medium of music sleeves. I enjoy working there as well because of the collaboration with the music.

1995

At home in Epsom he strides

Kind of working in tandem with it. The goal what we’re (graphic designers) aiming for is to reflect the music ; the sleeve should be a gateway into what the music is about without defining it but also providing a suggestive mood and atmosphere. A sleeve for Lush, or Pixies, isn’t interchangeable for a sleeve for the Cocteau Twins. The music has led each design. I always start with the music, read the lyrics. Because I think it’s such an otherwise simple or superficial exercise take a fabulous image, and a bit of wonderful cutting-edge type and, oh, wonderful sleeve. But if it doesn’t connect with the music, it’s worthless. I think the strongest sleeves are the sum of the parts. What introduced V23 Design you to graphic design ? As a teenager, I wanted to do record Oliver has created classic album sleeves. I didn’t know that was covers for the Cocteau Twins, Ultra graphic design. I liked the Vivid Scene, His Name Is Alive, Pixies, combination of art and music, Throwing Muses, the Breeders, Lush, image and sound. It was always the ones that approached the This Mortal Coil, Scott Walker, design in an imaginative way. and Bush.

Without being vague, there has to be something there that takes you in. Album art now seems to be just an extraneous icon. As a graphic designer, what are your impressions with the current rise of digital technology when you started out, how are you adapting, and how do you bridge the gap from all of these diverging areas ? Well, I am someone who is in a specialized field in kind of objectifying and packaging that music. I can’t turn back time. We’re latching on in pursuit of an ever-more convenient performance. We’ve lost touch (touch being an operative word with packaging. It’s still a niche market and there are generations of listeners who rediscover these bands and still do not understand the value of a particular record sleeve. Even bands don’t even understand how a sleeve might signify to an audience, crowd, or an area. It’s part of my generation to remind people in a sense. It’s not like we’re going to turn back to vinyl, but there’s still (and it goes hand in hand with book culture as well) something innate within us to collect things. In our nature, we are collectors. A record sleeve is not something yousimply on a record to stop rolling shelf. You could say that record collecting is a source of identity. Yes. If the package is going to disappear altogether, I don’t know how is that going to be satisfied. I think because of the technological revolution and disappearance of music packaging, something else might take its place. T h at ’ s m e s s e d u p For example with itunes, you can’t download miniature versions of the artwork, then what the fuck are you going to do with it? Cover of Head Over Heels, by Cocteau Twins. Designed by Vaughan Oliver. Album art is placed in the backburner. Yeah, it doesn’t really serve a purpose… You know, a well-designed package or digipak. There’s a tactile even an aromatic aspect to record collecting. The new work won’t replace that and I’ll suggest it will probably be motion graphics or typographic-in-motion or a new media will be involved. I could see a moving version of the Cocteau Twins sleeve that’s something I would really like to look into. At the same time, of course, I am still designing sleeves. When I worked on the Pixies box set [Minotaur], it was like putting up the biggest middle finger in response to the disappearance of album packaging. Minotaur is an antithesis of what’s happening in album design and, if it’s done properly, this is what a package can be. Basically you’re pushing the limits of visual communication. Without being vague, there has to be something there that takes you in. Album art now seems to be just an extraneous icon. As a graphic designer, what are your impressions with the current rise of digital technology when you started out, and how do you bridge the gap from all of diverging areas ? Well, I am someone who is in a specialized field in kind of objectifying and packaging that music. I can’t turn back time.

« The result is work that is passionate, elegant and highly influential. »

03 web Visual identity

borders, once or twice, on paranoia. Despite knowing me to be a Pixies die-hard, he asks me if I’m bored about hearing about the stories behind the albums and worries that his answers aren’t exciting enough (when, to me they’re gold dust). And due to both of us being mildly deaf, the conversation keeps descending into the kind of farcical exchange that used to form the backbone of jokes printed on the rear of England’s Glory matchboxes. Oliver has created classic album covers for

He started off by declaring his nervousness with “I’m an anti-fucking social person” and getting the lights turned right down so we were in total darkness.

the Cocteau Twins, Ultra Vivid Scene, His Name Is Alive.

In the 80’s society as a whole became more design literate, with the influence of people like Neville Brody this combined the independent record industry were a real source of inspiration for Vaughan — placing authority and creativity in the hands of the bands, rather than with massive corporate labels who held all the Vaughan Oliver cards. Continuing in his endearing and nonchalant way, he begins to explain his burgeoning relationship with 4AD, the record label that he worked with to produce some of his most famous work. Speaking admiringly about the value placed by 4AD on packaging the music with care, quality and attention to detail — and the obvious implications of cost, effort and time, Vaughan says he was in his element, literally designing his own record collection. b a c k to t h e e i g h t i e s In the 80’s society as a whole became more design literate, with the influence of people like Neville Brody this combined the independent record industry were a real source of inspiration for Vaughan — placing authority and creativity in the hands of the bands, rather than with massive corporate labels who held all the cards. Continuing in his endearing and nonchalant way, he begins to explain his burgeoning relationship with 4AD, the record label that he worked with to produce some of his most famous work. Speaking admiringly about the

value placed by 4AD on packaging the music with care. and attention to detail — and the obvious implications of cost, effort and time, Vaughan says he was in his element, literally designing his own record collection. Of his process, he places huge importance on connecting with the music and reflecting its qualities in the visuals he creates. Inspiration came from the most surprising places and he would often subvert pre-existing imagery to create his signature style, full of contrast and critical tensions. Being so close to the record label, he had access to the music as it was being developed, so had longer to think about the music and develop his ideas than most designers would have.

idea was to get a bloke to dance around with peeled eels strategically strapped onto his naked body. Surprisingly, this turned out to be quite a hard sell to potential models, so Vaughan ended up himself as the subject, with photographer Kevin Westerberg, shooting it in his London flat. “There’s usually a sense of mystery or ambiguity in my work, which I think leaves a piece open so that the viewer can bring their own interpretation.” The legendary designer talks challenging icons and the power of collaboration with Garrick Webster. His record sleeves for bands such as Pixies and Cocteau Twins wouldn’t look out of place in an art gallery ; sometimes gritty, sometimes dreamy, Vaughan Oliver’s sleeve work evokes moods to match the music inside. When photos of a performer looking cool were de rigueur for band artwork, Oliver gave us eyeballs in crucibles, lace, rust and writhing eels insteadtype and images that poetically suggested the music offered something more. Including a touch of unease. The heat and humidity on the day we meet is enough to make anyone uneasy.

g r a p h i c i m p l e m e n tat i o n

His passion for the music is evident ; “If there’s no connection with it then the design is worthless and self-indulgent.” As a working class boy growing up in the north of England, he sees design for music as an introduction to art, something that for many working class people seems obscure, irrelevant and inaccessible, not to mention indulgent. But records were a signifier of your identity, a badge of honour and an expression of difference. Upon leaving college he moved to London with the intention of working as an illustrator. He lasted just two weeks however, before somehow finding himself a job in a packaging design firm, where he unexpectedly made his peace with typography. The pieces clicked together, and he began to interpret type as image, a theme clear throughout his work to date. Anyone who’s familiar with Vaughan’s work will know that he is very experimental, using materials, textures, found imagery, and putting them altogether in those pre-Mac days, never quite knowing what the final result would be. When showing the Pixies’ 1988 Surfer Rosa LP sleeve to a student, he was asked “How did you do it ? Which layer is she on, which layer is the background on, which layer are the effects on ?” To which Vaughan replied “No. It’s a fucking photograph” in his endearingly abrasive way. His Pixies work in particular has a very dark and surreal quality, reflecting what Vaughan calls the neuroses in the music that is reminiscent of David Lynch movies, which he also loves. Apparently on seeing the final cover artwork for come on Pilgrim, Pixies guitarist Joey Santiago blurted out “What the fuck is this?” followed immediately by “It’s perfect”. Another great anecdote for me was hearing how the famous 1990 Pod album cover for The Breeders came into being — the

2008

« David Lynch has always been a huge inspiration »

2005

We’re latching on in pursuit of an ever-more convenient performance. He started off by declaring his nervousness with “I’m an anti-fucking social person” and getting the lights turned right down so we were in total darkness. Then after a few moments of awkwardness, started to explain that he’s spent his whole life going against the grain, always feeling slightly on the outside of things. The punk years were a massive influence on him — not so much the punk aesthetic, but more the attitude of DIY and an alternative to the mainstream, something you can identify clearly in his work. Studying under Terry Dowling at Newcastle-Upon-Tyne Polytechnic, he absolutely hated typography, declaring a distaste for the rules and jargon that came along with it.

2001

biography

His eagerness to be a good host

Processing 01 : The Pacific Design Center in Los Angeles in 1994. Long out of print, it has been sought after by designers and collectors who have followed the work of V23. Most admired for his collaborative energy and imagination. 02 : Anyone who’s familiar with Vaughan’s work will know that he is very experimental, using materials, textures, found imagery, and putting them altogether in those pre-Mac days, never quite knowing what the final result would be. 03 : A student asked “How did you do it ? Which layer is she on, which layer is the background on, which layer are the effects on ?” To which Vaughan replied “No. It’s a fucking photograph” in his endearingly abrasive way.

But, wetting his lips with a sip of cold beer now and again, Vaughan Oliver thoughtfully starts answering Computer Arts’ questions in his steady County Durham accent. It quickly becomes clear that, although visually motivated, Oliver searches carefully for the right words. And he’s lost none of his passion for design. Q u i c k r e ca p V. O. cemented a name for himself in the world of graphic design by redefining album covers for the seminal British independent record label, 4AD. Similar to the Factory Records creative team of Tony Wilson and graphic designer Peter Saville, Oliver and 4AD founder Ivo WattsRussell gave the label and musicians a distinct branding identity unseen in contemporary music. This collaboration led Oliver to establish two studios : 23 Envelope with photographer Nigel Grierson and v23 with designer Chris Bigg (their partnership dissolved in 2008). Over the years, Oliver has created classic album covers for the Cocteau Twins, Ultra Vivid Scene, His Name Is Alive, Pixies, Throwing Muses, the Breeders, Lush, This Mortal Coil, Scott Walker, and Bush. His iconic use of typography, coupled with his stark (and sometimes humorous) imagery, reflected the somber and mysterious sounds emanating from what many considered the “golden era” of 4AD. In one of his first trips to New York City in 10 years, Oliver presented a lecture spanning his 30-year career as a graphic designer. Titled as “Visceral Pleasures” and hosted by AIGA/NY, the packed-tocapacity lecture included a presentation of his work (he later dubbed the lecture “30 years in 60 Minutes”) and a discussion about the impetus for each album cover. He illustrated how record sleeves, from front to back, acts as a relative and communicative tool for the listener. “My album covers are not meant for punch lines,” quipped Vaughan as he compared Joy Division’s seminal “Unknown Pleasures” cover to a close-up mock image of an open rectum. The discussion ended with a 5 minute montage from selected album covers with a song by David Sylvian playing in the backdrop. Without being vague, there has to be something there that takes you in. Album art now seems to be just an extraneous icon. As a graphic designer, what are your impressions with the current rise of digital technology when you started out, how are you adapting, and how do you bridge the gap from all of these diverging areas ? Well, I am someone who is in a specialized field in kind of objectifying and packaging that music. I can’t turn back time. We’re latching on in pursuit of an ever-more convenient performance.

interview an edited interview Prior to the talk, I met up with Vaughan on a balmy and humid afternoon at the Desmond Tutu Center where he was staying with his son, Beckett. Sitting outside in a small patio area, we touched upon various topics: his long relationship with 4AD ; his views on the difference between a graphic designer and artist, and the “demise” of music packaging. Prior to the talk, I met up with Vaughan on a balmy and humid afternoon at the Desmond Tutu Center where he was staying with his son, Beckett. Sitting outside in a small patio area, we touched upon various topics : his long relationship with 4AD ; his views on the difference between a graphic designer and artist, and the “demise” of music packaging. Vaughan Oliver cemented a name for himself in the world of graphic design by redefining album covers for the seminal British independent record label, 4AD. Similar to the Factory Records creative team of Tony Wilson and graphic designer Peter Saville, Oliver and 4AD founder Ivo Watts-Russell gave the label and musicians a distinct branding identity unseen in contemporary music. He illustrated how record sleeves, from front to back, acts as a relative and communicative tool for the listener. This collaboration led Oliver to establish two studios : 23 Envelope with photographer Nigel Grierson and v23 with designer Chris Bigg (their partnership dissolved in 2008). Upon leaving college he moved to London with the intention of working as an illustrator. He lasted just two weeks however, before somehow finding himself a job in a packaging design firm, where he unexpectedly made his peace with typography. The pieces clicked together, and he began to interpret type as image, a theme clear throughout his work to date.

great great talk talk

interview

Written by Seth Grayson.

Guy Anglade : I’ll admit, when I listened to a record from the Cocteau Twins or His Name is Alive in high school, your album designs puzzled me just as much as attempting to decipher the meaning and inscrutable lyrics from Elizabeth Fraser. It’s all a mystery. Vaughan Oliver : That’s why I like working in the medium of music sleeves. I enjoy working there as well because of the collaboration with the music. Kind of working in tandem with it. The goal what we’re (graphic designers) aiming for is to reflect the music ; the sleeve should be a gateway into what the music is about without defining it but also providing a suggestive mood and atmosphere. A sleeve for Lush, or Pixies, isn’t interchangeable for a sleeve for the Cocteau Twins. The music has led each design. I always start with the music, read the lyrics. Because I think it’s such an otherwise simple or superficial exercise take a fabulous image, and a bit of wonderful cutting-edge type and, oh, wonderful sleeve. But if it doesn’t connect with the music, it’s worthless. I think the strongest sleeves are the sum of the parts.

Vaughan preparing the offset machine

You could say that record collecting is a source of identity. Yes. If the package is going to disappear altogether, I don’t know how is that going to be satisfied. I think because of the technological revolution and disappearance of music packaging, something else might take its place. So, for example with itunes, you can’t download miniature versions of the artwork, then what the fuck are you going to do with it ? Album art is placed in the backburner. Yeah, it doesn’t really serve a purpose… You know, a well-designed package or digipak. There’s a tactile even an aromatic aspect to record collecting. The new work won’t replace that and I’ll suggest it will probably be motion graphics or typographic-in-motion or a new media will be involved. I could see a moving version of the Cocteau Twins sleeve — that’s something I would really like to look into. At the same time, of course, I am still designing sleeves. When I worked on the Pixies box set [Minotaur], it was like putting up the biggest middle finger in response to the disappearance of album packaging. Minotaur is an antithesis of what’s happening in album design and, if it’s done properly, this is what a package can be.

« To is to to is to

suggest create, describe destroy. »

Stéphane Mallarmé

Basically you’re pushing the limits of visual communication. We repackaged the entire thing. Charles (cf. Frank Black) from the Pixies said that this box set was mainly an art thing. The answer to music is not an art thing, but it’s a combination of packaging and how it can be done.

Oliver is one of the most powerful and explosive graphic designers of his time. Long out of print, it has been sought after by designers and collectors who have followed the work of V23. Most admired for his collaborative energy and imagination, Oliver set the stage for a graphic revolution in the eighties and nineties. Seth Grayson

Do you think advertising and marketing plays a role in the demise of collecting album sleeves ? I think it’s more than that. With the creation of a CD that’s when the music industry pretty much shot themselves in the foot. By diminishing the packaging and making music collecting less desirable, the music industry didn’t know what they were doing. CD and plastic packaging ? That’s the biggest misnomer ; there’s nothing “jewel” like about it. We are reduced to having these horrible discs in a plastic case, compared with a wooden box and a beautiful image, printed on the sleeve. Then you take out that sexy black vinyl, and then you put the needle on the record. There’s a whole ritual behind playing a piece of vinyl, and it’s a marvelous thing. And I am not saying this process should go on forever, but to replace it conveniently. All of our projects are undertaken after serious consideration of the music, it’s tone and values, the reading of lyrics and after discussion with the artist. In this case Kim briefed us on a particular direction for the art which we misunderstood but still came out with something she liked. She’s such a cool client. She doesn’t interfere but let’s us know when it’s not quite right and she always passes everything by the band.

Do you think advertising and marketing plays a role in the demise of collecting album sleeves ? I think it’s more than that. With the creation of a CD that’s when the music industry pretty much shot themselves in the foot. By diminishing the packaging and making music collecting less desirable, the music industry didn’t know what they were doing. CD and plastic packaging ? That’s the biggest misnomer; there’s nothing “jewel”-like about it. We are reduced to having these horrible discs in a plastic case, compared with a wooden box and a beautiful image, printed on the sleeve. Then you take out that sexy black vinyl, and then you put the needle on the record. There’s a whole ritual behind playing a piece of vinyl, and it’s a marvelous thing. And I am not saying this process should go on forever, but to replace it conveniently with a CD or that little disc, that’s where it stops. I think it’s more than that. With the creation of a CD — that’s when the music industry pretty much shot themselves in the foot.

05 ones that approached the design in an imaginative way. I was never interested in the sleeves with the bands on the front, so I liked seeing the imagination at work. You mentioned the Cocteau Twins. I think there’s something typical to Cocteau Twins sleeves that runs through most of their work, there’s a sense of ambiguity and mystery, you’re not quite sure what the hell all of this is about. You want to know more, but it allows you to bring your own interpretation. It stays open. So, for example with itunes, you can’t download miniature versions of the artwork, then what the fuck are you going to do with it ?

interview

Album art now seems to be just an extraneous icon. As a graphic designer, what are your impressions with the current rise of digital technology when you started out, how are you adapting, and how do you bridge the gap from all of these diverging areas ? Well, I am someone who is in a specialized field in kind of objectifying and packaging that music. I can’t turn back time. We’re latching on in pursuit of an ever-more convenient performance. We’ve lost touch (touch being an operative word) with packaging. It’s still a niche market and there are generations of listeners who rediscover these bands and still do not understand the value of a particular record sleeve. Even bands don’t even understand how a sleeve might signify to an audience, crowd, or an area. It’s part of my generation to remind people in a sense. It’s not like we’re going to turn back to vinyl, but there’s still (and it goes hand in hand with book culture as well) something innate within us to collect things. By diminishing the packaging and making music collecting less desirable, the music industry didn’t know what they were doing. That’s the biggest misnomer; there’s nothing “jewel” like about it. In our nature, we are collectors. A record sleeve is not something you simply put on a record to stop it rolling off the shelf. Even bands don’t even understand how a sleeve might signify to an audience, crowd, or an area. It’s part of my generation to remind people in a sense. It’s not like we’re going to turn back to vinyl, but there’s still (and it goes hand in hand with book culture as well) something innate within us.

You’ve developed quite a long relationship with significant bands within the past 30 years, obviously the Cocteau Twins, Pixies, Lush, and the Breeders. What was your experience like working on the Pixies box set, Minotaur.

The essential core was the music. That’s it. They’ve trusted me in the past and I was dealing with all of the same music. And that could be the hardest things not showing people stuff all the time. I can’t turn back time. It’s lovely because that can cross-pollinate into different exhibitions, different locations, and different continents. A number of times people would come up to me and say, “You know that Cocteau Twins sleeve… I see this in it.” And I would respond, “Oh, that was never intended, but that’s bloody marvelous.” So you brought your imagination to it, it’s been open enough. Without being vague, there has to be something there that takes you in. If the package is going to disappear altogether, I don’t know how is that going to be satisfied. I think because of the technological revolution and disappearance of music packaging, something else might take its place. Can you explain the amount of input the clients or bands have had in your work ? Do you sometimes feel as if you act as a vessel for the client? Well even at 4AD, I didn’t have much free reign. I would say there’s compromise to every job I’ve done. It’s a nice compromise, because I am working with the Pixies or any other band or Ivo Watts-Russell. I want to make the band happy. It’s not as if I come with an idea for a sleeve or package and then I am looking for the piece of music to put it on. I like to know what the band wants and what they’re interested in. What introduced you to graphic design ? As a teenager, I wanted to do record sleeves. I didn’t know that was graphic design. I liked the combination of art and music, image and sound. It was always the

In other words, viewing the sleeves is a three-part collaborative process between the artist, designer, and listener. It forces the listener to participate and dive in to the music. It’s lovely because that can cross-pollinate into different exhibitions, different locations, and different continents. A number of times people would come up to me and say, “You know that Cocteau Twins sleeve… I see this in it.” And I would respond, “Oh, that was never intended, but that’s bloody marvelous.” So you brought your imagination to it, it’s been open enough. In my opinion, if you do that, how does industry progress ? You shouldn’t give students a job for life, but simply educate them. And, in an education, they should be asking questions of the status quo. If they’re not asking questions, then we’re not going to progress.

It looked like mercury or lead to me. Yeah, it does look like mercury doesn’t it ? It was castspray paint and we thought, fuck, this isn’t working. So we formed a skin and we worked with aerosol spray. It was low-budget cheap stuff, but Nigel could create such marvelous imagery from a simple interior.

You could say that record collecting is a source of identity. Yes. If the package is going to disappear altogether, I don’t know how is that going to be satisfied. I think because of the technological revolution and disappearance of music packaging, something else might take its place. So, for example with itunes, you can’t download miniature versions of the artwork, then what the fuck are you going to do with it ? When you take this idea from drink labels to the realm of record sleeves, it has a greater potential to be much more expressive. Even bands don’t even understand how a sleeve might signify to an audience, crowd, or an area. It’s part of my generation to remind people in a sense. It’s not like we’re going to turn back to vinyl, but there’s still (and it goes hand in hand with book culture as well) something innate within us to collect things.

inspired Nigel Grieson and I to create “Head Over Heels” and “Snowburst and Snowblind.” The petals and all of that stuff mixed in with the aerosol spray on water.

« VAUGHAN OLiVER discusses the sleeve art of 4ad »

What is if any the #1 golden rule you teach to young graphic designers ? I don’t know if I deal with golden rules. What I try to get out and introduce to the students is the importance of play and experimentation. Generally colleges have gone in an opposite direction in trying to make it a vocational course. You know, they’re trying too hard to fit students into an industry.

Michael Danier

Album art is placed in the backburner.

Yeah, it doesn’t really serve a purpose… You know, a well-designed package or digipak. There’s a tactile even an aromatic aspect to record collecting. The new work won’t replace that and I’ll suggest it will probably be motion graphics or typographic-in-motion or a new media will be involved. I could see a moving version of the Cocteau Twins sleeve that’s something I would really like to look into. At the same time, of course, I am still designing sleeves. When I worked on the Pixies box set [Minotaur], it was like putting up the biggest middle finger in response to the disappearance of album packaging. Minotaur is an antithesis of what’s happening in album design and, if it’s done properly, this is what a package can be. Basically you’re pushing the limits of visual communication. When you take this idea from drink labels to the realm of record sleeves, it has a greater potential to be much more expressive. You’ve developed quite a long relationship with significant bands within the past 30 years, obviously the Cocteau Twins, Pixies, Lush, and the Breeders. What was your experience like working on the Pixies box set, Minotaur. The essential core was the music. That’s it. They’ve trusted me in the past and I was dealing with all of the same music. And that could be the hardest thing! You have no parameters if you’re not showing people stuff all the time. Absolutely. If the direction is up to you and it’s wide open, what do you do? How do you keep it fun and challenging ? Everything I do is fun. I wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t fun. And it’s a learning exercise ; I am trying to learn something through it. You get halfway through a job and say, yeah, that looks nice ; that type looks nice. But it’s just too easy. And sometimes, I overwork it. I am from the Northeast of England, raised in a working-class family and so there’s a Calvinistic streak to my work ethic. I got to work hard before I get my reward. I can’t toss it off, but it’s all about blood, sweat, and tears. When I view the unpredictable and urgent imagery and history of your work with 4AD, I see a plethora of influences. It evokes the blurred, dark, irrational and open-ended nature of a David Lynch film. It’s urgent, defies categorizations and resist simple generalizations. Each typeface blurs the line between classic and new styles of font. When listening to the music it’s a bleak, cathartic and yet a pleasurable experience; its a visual reality seen anew. You mention my work being compared to David Lynch. The Cocteau Twins cover was inspired by Andrei Tarvosky’s film The Stalker : Two scientists (one is an artist; the other a writer) go in search for a forbidden zone and, in the forbidden zone, their worldly desires will become realized. They arrive at this lovely setting, this place, where there’s a floor surface and the camera is just flat over this water just a few inches deep and it’s a titled floor that used to be an interior with an object and a fishbowl. And it’s simply just a beautiful image that

02 : Special exhibition about the Vaughan Oliver restrospective. Organized by ESAG Penninghen at Centre Pompidou. 03 : Cover of Head Over Heels of Cocteau Twins, designed by Oliver Vaughan in 1982

Would you say you’re a mediator between the students ? Yes, I am mediating in a sense and I guess and I try to get the best out of them. We’re trying to teach them that you can be personally expressive as well. And we’re talking not in just record sleeves, but in other areas of graphic design as well. Sometimes I think my work is generally — and especially people in my profession — get marginalized. They would say, “Oh, Vaughan is not a graphic designer, he’s an artist.” I would say, well, fuck no, I am a graphic designer ; I am communicating a message — however abstract it may be — and I am dealing with music. And I have to produce something that needs to be sold in shops. And it’s got to be reproduced. I am not an artist, I am a graphic designer and I think some people like to marginalize it. People are a little bit blinkered in their belief and purpose of what graphic design is and could be. There’s a history of us being marginalized where people would say, “oh, go play over there in your corner and little sandbox.” And, to me, I find that a bit demeaning. I take my profession very seriously. Album cover for Xmal designed by Vaughan Oliver So how do you describe the difference between a graphic designer and an artist ? I don’t know if it’s distinct. Boundaries blur. 4AD was about giving the man on the street more credit than a mainstream company would. We’re all generally visually educated and a man on the street who’s bombarded with sophisticated images is better educated in understanding the visual world than a mainstream record company who is credited for sticking a head and shoulder shot of the artist on a record sleeve. A regular guy is much more imaginative and visually literate. The general public is a lot brighter, more visually literate than the corporates give him credit for. I firmly believe that. Well, I am someone who is in a specialized field in kind of objectifying and packaging that music.

exhibition

Oliver is most noted for his work with graphic design studios 23 Envelope (v23). Both studios maintained a close relationship with record label 4AD between 1982 and 1998 and were to give distinct visual identities for the 4AD releases by many bands, including Bush, Cocteau Twins, Dead Can Dance, The Breeders, This Mortal Coil, Pale Saints, Lush, Pixies, and Throwing Muses.

Joe FRiday

I ask him what he hopes sleeve designs bring to the listening experience, and after a slow intake of breath and a great, elongated Northern bawl he sighs “You know what, I’ve had 33 years to think about that and I still can’t quite pin it down. In terms of the listener, it should be a gateway, it should be an enhancement. You’ve got to leave it as open for interpretation as the music. You’re not empowering the listener as such but you’re leaving it open for them to make it their own. I think it’s a very generous thing to do and also a very wise thing to do.” Talking about his time at 4AD, Vaughan says “I suppose back in the beginning the intention was to have a label identity, but there was never a house style – what we wanted was a consistency in approach. This is going back before the days when the word ‘branding’ was used. physical format in their hand.

The definitive J.F. collector’s piece. Minotaur is curated by legendary

“The visual aesthetic was as crucial as the music.” An opinion perhaps rarely held today, but Martin Aston’s assertion in the opening paragraphs of his forthcoming book for The Friday Project reflects the rarity of a label like 4AD. As Aston points out, under Ivo WattsRussell’s vision in the eighties and nineties, the label found itself perfectly placed to explore one of the most openly innovative, experimental and volatile eras in British music history. And as Watts-Russell’s first official employee, Vaughan Oliver was to become more than just a supporting cast member. The visual mastermind behind acts like the Pixies, the Cocteau Twins, The Breeders, Ultra Vivid Scene and Modern English, Vaughan’s creative partnership with 4AD rivalled that of Peter Saville’s and Factory. Speaking to Vaughan over an echoing phone line, it’s not easy to get to gauge his idiosyncrasies. I get the impression this might stem from Vaughan’s Robert Doisneau-derived philosophy that “To suggest is to create, to describe is to destroy”, as essentially, I’m asking him to do the latter. Thankfully, he’s more than happy to indulge in spite of the aforementioned French photographer’s mantra.

graphic designer, Vaughan Oliver, who in connection with photographer Simon Larbalestier, created the album artwork for all five J.F. studio albums. Oliver and Larbalestier have teamed up once again.

The big pink

The Big Pink collection Anthology (4AD, 2011) had a complete design that was scrapped. Early on in the process I shared some sketches with Vaughan Oliver [legendarily cantankerous designer of multiple Muses sleeves]. I always design a cover opened.

throwing muses

The Throwing Muses collection (4AD, 2011 commisioned by Vinyl 180.) had a complete design that was modified. Early on in the process I shared some sketches with Vaughan Oliver (legendarily cantankerous designer of multiple Muses).

INTRODUCTION As Martin Aston takes stock of 4AD in his new book ‘Facing The Other Way’, we speak to Vaughan Oliver, a man as crucial to its legacy as its infamous, reclusive founder Ivo Watts-Russell. “The visual aesthetic was as crucial as the music.” An opinion perhaps rarely held today, but Martin Aston’s assertion in the opening paragraphs of his forthcoming book for The Friday Project reflects the rarity of a label like 4AD. As Aston points out, under Ivo Watts-Russell’s vision in the eighties and nineties, the label found itself perfectly placed to explore one of the most openly innovative, experimental and volatile eras in British music history. And as WattsRussell’s first official employee, Vaughan Oliver was to become more than just a supporting cast member.The visual mastermind behind acts like the Pixies, the Cocteau Twins, The Breeders, Ultra Vivid Scene and Modern English, Vaughan’s creative partnership with 4AD rivalled that of Peter Saville’s and Factory. Speaking to Vaughan over an echoing phone line, it’s not easy to get to gauge his idiosyncrasies. I get the impression this might stem from Vaughan’s Robert Doisneau-derived philosophy that “To suggest is to create, to describe is to destroy”, as essentially, I’m asking him to do the latter. Thankfully, he’s more than happy to indulge in spite of the aforementioned French photographer’s mantra.

Rick Poynor david lynch

Legendary filmmaker, David Lynch (Eraserhead, Blue Velvet, Mulholland Drive, Twin electronic single via iTunes, courtesy of UK label Sunday Best. Two physical format releases are planned for January.

Cocteau twins

This is a limited edition box design for Cocteau Twins commisioned by Vinyl 180. Designed by Vaughan Oliver at v23, with box imagery from Roger Newbrook. This new and

Present guest

orking at a time when the twelve inch was the standard, Vaughan certainly laments the advent of digitalisation, citing the fact that half of the class he now teaches as “Professor of fucking record sleeves” at Greenwich have never even held a physical format in their hand. “It’s become a niche market.

« influence on a generation of designers »

Peaks) released his debut solo,

« interesting exhibition, to see absolutely ! »

exhibition

work work gallery gallery

very limited edition boxset (only 700 worldwide) comprises our previous Cocteau Twins re-issue releases. pixies

2007, Stanley Picker Gallery, Kingston Exhibition : Jan - Mar 2007. Sined and numbered by Vaughan Oliver in silver pen. Ltd edn size of just 100 !. Actual print has details of gallery and exhibition on the left page.

I ask him what he hopes sleeve designs bring to the listening experience, and after a slow intake of breath and a great, Elongated Northern bawl he sighs “You know what, I’ve had 33 years to think about that and I still can’t quite pin it down. You’ve got to leave it as open for interpretation as the music. I think it’s a very generous thing to do and also a very wise thing to do. This is going back before the days when the word ‘branding’ was used. Working at a time when the twelve inch was the standard, Vaughan certainly laments the advent of digitalisation, citing the fact that half of the class he now teaches as “Professor of fucking record sleeves” at Greenwich have never even held a physical format in their hand. “It’s become a niche market. I much prefer the idea that it used to be available to everyone — that’s probably the working class bastard in me. It’s such a shame. When I talk about coming down from the vinyl to the CD and what a disappointment that was — the plastic jewel case is probably the worst design of the twentieth century – now we’re talking about things disappearing into the ether and your record collection just being a list of stuff on your screen. Of course I’m going to say that is sad.” ? THE NINETIES WAVE “The visual aesthetic was as crucial as the music.” An opinion perhaps rarely held today, but Martin Aston’s assertion in the opening paragraphs of his forthcoming book for The Friday Project reflects the rarity of a label like 4AD. As Aston points out, under Ivo WattsRussell’s vision in the eighties and nineties, the label found itself perfectly placed to explore one of the most openly innovative, experimental and volatile eras in British music history. And as Watts-Russell’s first official The visual mastermind behind acts like the Pixies, the

07 exhibition

Cocteau Twins, The Breeders, Ultra Vivid Scene and Modern English, Vaughan’s creative partnership with 4AD rivalled that of Peter Saville’s and Factory. Speaking to Vaughan over an echoing phone line, it’s not easy to get to gauge his idiosyncrasies. Thankfully, he’s more than happy to indulge in spite of the aforementioned French photographer’s mantra. I ask him what he hopes sleeve designs bring to the listening experience, and after a slow intake of breath and a great, elongated Northern bawl he sighs “You know what, I’ve had 33 years to think about that and I still can’t quite pin it down. In terms of the listener, it should be a gateway, it should be an enhancement. You’ve got to leave it as open for interpretation as the music. You’re not empowering the listener as such but you’re leaving it open for them to make it their own. I think it’s a very generous thing to do and also a very wise thing to do.” HYPED COLLABORATIONS Vaughan Oliver cemented a name for himself in the world of graphic design by redefining album covers for the seminal British independent record label, 4AD. I get the impression this might stem from Vaughan’s Robert Doisneau-derived philosophy that “To suggest is to create, to describe is to destroy”, as essentially, I’m asking him to do the latter.

downloaded it. ‘So I said to the students, we’ll make some graphics to go with this imagery and we’ll use these words — it was as open as that. Half the battle was to get them [the students] to relax and not worry about it. ‘It started off with the idea as doing all the graphics as real and as one shot, no layering or Photoshop. It’s just there. The general public is a lot brighter, more visually literate than the corporates give him credit for. Well, I am someone who is in a specialized field in kind of objectifying and packaging that music. And there’s something quite vital about that, that would sit well with Simon’s imagery. I knew I was gonna use just one image per page: graphic response, photograph, photograph, graphic response. ‘[UCA tutor] Brian Whitehead couldn’t handle working without a grid.

dislikes the way digital design brings everything under his control. He preferred the division of labor necessitated by analogue processes. Back in the ‘80s, instead of producing everything on the computer, you worked with ‘origination houses’ giat. This meant that when you got back your own design, there was a great chance for surprise and happy accidents. He also misses working with specialist typographers - a craft that has now almost completely disappeared. INHOUSE WORK You can get a sense of Oliver’s engagement with oldschool printing techniques from his 1985 sleeve for the band Colourbox, above. While it seems to be a piece of custom-made bricolage, the image is actually a Japanese printer’s ‘make-ready’ sheet – that is, a piece run through the press to absorb excess ink in advance of the production run. (For an inventive use of ‘make ready’ textiles in Africa, see this article by my friend and colleague David Doris.) In this case, there is a collision between two images: a fashion shoot and an advertisement for peaches. It was unusual for Oliver to leave his material completely untransformed in this way. Typically, he cut apart and layered his appropriated images into a suggestive palimpsest. But in this case the work seemed to have been done for him by happenstance. It was also appropriate to the band, which was one of the first in Britain to use sampling. Oliver now works from a lovely house in Epsom, and when I arrived there wasn’t much of the inspired chaos you might expect from his album covers. But then he started pulling stuff out of boxes - and pretty soon, his kitchen table looked a little like one of his designs, or at least the beginning stages of one.

I said, “It’s just a bloody picture book, man, what do you need a grid for?” He calls the way I use typography “flying type”! It’s what font works on the page with that imagery, what colour, what size, and if it’s not working there I’ll slide it about a bit. Is that what an illustrative approach is? It’s just marks on a page isn’t it, texture… That’s why I’ve never grown a “proper studio”, I like doing things myself, I like being the person that puts the catalogue number on. ‘There’s no need for Pixies logos or anything on the outside, you know what you’re getting by now. The idea was to do these truncated sleeves … textural images on the outside and these brighter glossy inner sleeves.

4 SOCIAL IMPACT

01 01 : Cover of And Who Shall Go to the Ball? And What Shall Go to the Ball? / Scott Walker / Designed by Vaughan Oliver in 2007 02 : Cover of Good Day Today / David Lynch Designed by Vaughan Oliver in 2010 / photography by Marc Atkins / hand-written texts

Similar to the Factory Records creative team of Tony Wilson and graphic designer Peter Saville, Oliver and 4AD founder Ivo Watts-Russell gave the label and musicians a distinct branding identity unseen in contemporary music. This collaboration led Oliver to establish two studios : 23 Envelope with photographer Nigel Grierson and v23 with designer Chris Bigg (their partnership dissolved in 2008). Over the years, Oliver has created classic album covers for the Cocteau Twins, Ultra Vivid Scene, His Name Is Alive, Pixies, Throwing Muses, the Breeders, Lush, This Mortal Coil, Scott Walker, and Bush. His iconic use of typography, coupled with his stark (and sometimes humorous) imagery, reflected the somber and mysterious sounds emanating from what many considered the “golden era” of 4AD. This is going back before the days when the word ‘branding’ was used. In one of his first trips to New York City in 10 years, Oliver presented a lecture spanning his 30-year career as a graphic designer. Titled as “Visceral Pleasures” and hosted by AIGA/NY, the packed-to-capacity lecture included a presentation of his work (he later dubbed the lecture “30 years in 60 Minutes”) and a discussion about the impetus for each album cover. He illustrated how record sleeves, from front to back, acts as a relative and communicative tool for the listener. “My album covers are not meant for punch lines,” quipped Vaughan as he compared Joy Division’s seminal “Unknown Pleasures” cover to a close-up mock image of an open rectum. The discussion ended with a 5 minute montage from selected album covers with a song by David Sylvian playing in the backdrop. ‘I chose some University for the Creative Arts [UCA] students in Epsom that I was working with on some book covers, and the college gave me another three students from the first year. I briefed them on the music and one of the lads said, “I love this music, but I’ve never seen the sleeves.” He’d just

a l b u m c ov e r s I like it when something fascinating visually comes from a banal source. There’s inspiration everywhere and I think that’s what Terry Dowling taught me. You don’t have to go very far, you have to look closely. The challenge here was not to do too much, try to stick everything in there, keep cool. ‘I liked the idea of using information as illustration, working with a team, creating more work than I would have done on my own, and also working with a young team who had not done anything like this before and had no fear. They hadn’t been tainted by the business, by working in a studio for ten years or whatever. I wanted it raw — a bit of raw and a bit of polish ! This is going back before the days when the word ‘branding’. The more experienced I’ve become, I can control things in a relaxed way. When you look at that book, some of it looks like student work, and I like that ! It’s not too polished and sophisticated. I recently paid a visit to the graphic designer Vaughan Oliver, best known for his work over the years for the record label 4AD. As the producer of the Pixies, the Cocteau Twins, Red House Painters, and Modern English, 4AD helped to define the sound of British post-punk music ; but Oliver defined the look. Founder Ivo Watts-Russell gave him free rein on developing the graphic identity of the label, and he responded with a body of work that is remarkable for its visual density and consistency, featuring quintessentially postmodern tactics like erratic typography, cut-and-paste visuals, and appropriated imagery. Oliver now works from a lovely house in Epsom, and when I arrived there wasn’t much of the inspired chaos you might expect from his album covers. But then he started pulling stuff out of boxes and pretty soon, his kitchen table looked a little like one of his designs, or at least the beginning stages of one What gives Oliver’s work its distinctive feel is the combination of intuition and precision. He’ll take a seemingly random found image. It was fascinating to talk to Oliver about his techniques. He has never really become comfortable with digital design. As he puts it, ‘The technological revolution was my bête noire. In my opinion “they” took my tools away.’ Perhaps surprisingly, Oliver says that he

He’ll take a seemingly random found image, and combine it with a bit of torn paper and hand-drawn lettering. That part of his approach is quite punk, even consciously referring to the blackmail-style typography and ‘rip it up’ style of Jamie Reid. But as graphics historian Rick Poynor has written in his terrific book Visceral Pleasures, Oliver brought a new perfectionism to the album cover. He would, for example, blow up a single letter - an ‘A’ or ‘D’ - with his camera until it was a foot high, then laboriously re-draw its edges to get them just right, before reducing it again and setting it into the type. If you compare his work (below, his sleeve for Xmal Deutschland’s album Fetisch) with Reid’s earlier designs for the Sex Pistols, you can see how he brought a new level of care, composition and craft to punk aesthetics. It was fascinating to talk to Oliver about his techniques. He has never really become comfortable with digital design. As he puts it, ‘The technological revolution was my bête noire. In my opinion “they” took my tools away.’ He described to me with some enthusiasm the delicate process of inserting a single comma into a bit of lettering, using a scalpel and a tiny dab of glue. It’s a sort of exactness that you can sense in the below preparatory artwork - for a poster related to the above Xmal Deutschland cover. Back in the 1980s, Oliver’s key mechanical tool was the PMT (Photo Mechanical Transfer) camera – a vertically mounted large format machine that produced a distinctive type of print, with a lovely tactile surface and seemingly endless visual depth. He was particularly interested in the ‘underexposed’ areas at the edge of the print, which had an Rick Poynor atmosphere he liked. Here is the PMT print he used for the Fetisch sleeve shown above - a photo of ripped-up, taped-together Japanese rag paper he composed for the shot. Perhaps surprisingly, Oliver says that he dislikes the way digital design brings everything under his control. He preferred the division of labor necessitated by analogue processes. Back in the ‘80s, instead of producing everything on the computer, you worked with ‘origination houses’ which handled the colour work. This meant that when you got back your own design, there was a great chance for surprise and happy accidents. He also misses working with specialist typographers - a craft that has now almost completely disappeared.

« intensely visual and emotive work »

You can get a sense of Oliver’s engagement with oldschool printing techniques from his 1985 sleeve for the band Colourbox, above. While it seems to be a piece of custom-made bricolage, the image is actually a Japanese printer’s ‘make-ready’ sheet – that is, a piece run through the press to absorb excess ink in advance of the production run. In this case, there is a collision between two images: a fashion shoot and an advertisement for peaches. It’s just marks on a page isn’t it, texture…

signing out

graphic « THe FUTURE Iconic designer Vaughan is uNCERTAIN, Oliver has spent more than three I HAVE creating FAITH in decades beautifully weird, the new wonderful and generation » influential work, helping reinvent the approach to It was fascinating to talk to Oliver about his techniques. He has never really become comfortable with digital design. As he puts it, ‘The technological revolution was my bête noire. In my opinion “they” took my tools away.’ He described to me with some enthusiasm the delicate process of inserting a single comma into a bit of lettering, using a scalpel and a tiny dab of glue. It’s a sort of exactness that you can sense in the below preparatory artwork - for a poster related to the above Xmal Deutschland cover.Back in the 1980s, Oliver’s key mechanical tool was the PMT (Photo Mechanical Transfer) camera – a vertically mounted large format machine that produced a distinctive type of print, with a lovely tactile surface and seemingly endless visual depth. He was particularly interested in the ‘underexposed’ areas at the edge of the print, which had an atmosphere he liked. Here is the PMT print he used for the Fetisch sleeve shown above - a photo of ripped-up, tapedtogether Japanese rag paper he composed for the shot. Perhaps surprisingly, Oliver says that he dislikes the way digital design brings everything under his control. He preferred the division of labor necessitated by analogue processes. Finally he sums up by paying tribute to 4AD, acknowledging the fact that it really does take great clients to facilitate great work, the value of building long-term relationships with clients and collaborators, and finishes off with a fittingly self-deprecating statement : “It’s not art. It’s fucking words and pictures that package music.”

est known for his work over the years for the record label 4AD. As the producer of the Pixies, the Cocteau Twins, Red House Painters, and Modern English, 4AD helped to define the sound of British post-punk music; but Oliver defined the look. Founder Ivo Watts-Russell gave him free rein on developing the graphic identity of the label, and he responded with a body of work that is remarkable for its visual density and consistency, featuring quintessentially postmodern tactics like erratic typography, cut-and-paste visuals, and appropriated imagery. Oliver now works from a lovely house in Epsom, and when I arrived there wasn’t much of the inspired chaos you might expect from his album covers. But then he started pulling stuff out of boxes - and pretty soon, his kitchen table looked a little like one of his designs, or at least the beginning stages of one What gives Oliver’s work its distinctive feel is the combination of intuition and precision. He’ll take a seemingly random found image, and combine it with a bit of torn paper and hand-drawn lettering. That part of his approach is quite punk, even consciously referring to the blackmailstyle typography and ‘rip it up’ style of Jamie Reid. But as graphics historian Rick Poynor has written in his terrific book Visceral Pleasures, Oliver brought a new perfectionism to the album cover. He would, for example, blow up a single letter - an ‘A’ or ‘D’ - with his camera until it was a foot high, then laboriously re-draw its edges to get them just right, before reducing it again and setting it into the type. If you compare his work (below, his sleeve for Xmal Deutschland’s album Fetisch) with Reid’s earlier designs for the Sex Pistols, you can see how he brought a new level of care, composition and craft to punk aesthetics.

record sleeve design. Perhaps most famous for his designs for record label 4AD’s bands such as the Pixies and Cocteau Twins, Oliver’s career has also spanned work with oddball director David Lynch, and projects in fashion, film, dance and fine art.

FUTURE EXPLORATIONS Continuing in his endearing and nonchalant way, he begins to explain his burgeoning relationship with 4AD, the record label that he worked with to produce some of his most famous work. Speaking admiringly about the value placed by 4AD on packaging the music with care, quality and attention to detail — and the obvious implications of cost, effort and time, Vaughan says he was in his element, literally designing his own record collection. Of his process, he places huge importance on connecting with the music and reflecting its qualities in the visuals he creates. Inspiration came from the most surprising places and he would often subvert pre-existing imagery to create his signature style, full of contrast and critical tensions. Being so close to the record label, he had access to the music as it was being developed, so had longer to think about the music and develop his ideas than most designers would have. His passion for the music is evident; “If there’s no connection with it then the design is worthless and self-indulgent.” As a working class boy growing up in the north of England, he sees design for music as an introduction to art, something that for many working class people seems obscure, irrelevant and inaccessible, not to mention indulgent. But records were a signifier of your identity, a badge of honour and an expression of difference.

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“There’s usually a sense of mystery or ambiguity in my work, which I think leaves a piece open so that the viewer can bring their own interpretation.” The legendary designer talks challenging icons and the power of collaboration with Garrick Webster. His record sleeves for bands such as Pixies and Cocteau Twins wouldn’t look out of place in an art gallery ; sometimes gritty, sometimes dreamy, Vaughan Oliver’s sleeve work evokes moods to match the music inside. When photos of a performer looking cool were de rigueur for band artwork, Oliver gave us eyeballs in crucibles, lace, rust and writhing eels instead - type and images that poetically suggested the music offered something more. Including a touch of unease.

Oliver designed the striking packaging for the many versions of the “Good Day Today”/“I Know” single, including an elaborate sleeve for the vinyl edition. We asked the legendary designer about how the collaboration with the like-minded director had come about. “I was invited by the label Sunday Best, with whom I’d had no previous contact,” Oliver says. “I guess they could see I would empathize with Lynch’s work. Empathize ? I adore it and have been inspired by it for 23 years since first seeing Eraserhead. ‘Do they cut them up like regular chickens ?” Oliver thinks Lynch’s music shares many elements with his own design sensibility: «Sense of ambiguity. Duality. Horror and beauty on the same page, in the same image.

The heat and humidity on the day we meet is enough to make anyone uneasy. But, wetting his lips with a sip of cold beer now and again, Vaughan Oliver thoughtfully starts answering our questions in his steady County Durham accent. It quickly becomes clear that, although visually motivated, Oliver searches carefully for the right words. And he’s lost none of his passion for design.But the reason Lynch had to hastily become a lyricist, as legend has it, was that he could not secure the rights to the song he really wanted: This Mortal Coil’s version of Tim Buckley’s “Song to the Siren.”

Francis Underwood, Chief Redactor