No Distinction

Photo by Juliana Sohn

When people ask Deanne Cheuk and Chris Rubino what they do, they say, quite aptly, that they’re artists/designers. Both work in the design field, Cheuk most famously for her art direction of Tokion during its heyday, and Rubino for his Studio18hundred illustration limited edition posters for indie bands The Rapture, The Brian Jonestown Massacre and Vetiver. Between them they’ve done commissioned design projects for The New York Times and American Express. Yet both spend at least half their time making art which they exhibit internationally, and both self-publish their own books. Cheuk and Rubino are just as devoted to their design careers as their art, and both claim the duality makes their end work more rich and vibrant.

Illustration by Deanne Cheuk

Over the last century we’ve seen designers like Warhol and Milton Glaser cross over to the art field, but there’s never been as many folks working visibly in the two fields as there are now. Perhaps this generation of makers are less angsty about labels and can inhabit multiple identities comfortably. Perhaps they see the best of both worlds, as design provides a means to support oneself and art provides a means of free expression.

Theme brought Cheuk and Rubino together with Shepard Fairey, the man behind the Obey Giant phenomenon and the Obama Hope poster and perhaps the most successful Transitionist working today, to break down what they see as an attitude about design and art that is seamless and devoid of the angst that drove the professions in the past.

Chris Rubino: Shepard, you’re the perfect person to discuss the theme for the issue. We’re calling it “The Transitionists,” which is pretty much what Deanne and myself, and of course yourself, do. The idea of working as both graphic designers and fine artists, putting the same type of energy into both works and how one often influences the other.

Illustration by Deanne Cheuk

Shepard Fairey: I like that concept.

Deanne Cheuk: Putting together this issue, we were surprised that there were people not happy being categorized as doing this, even if that is what they do. Maybe because they were designers trying to become artists, trying to escape from that “designer” background....

Shepard: For me that is part of the impetus to say “Fuck you, I am going to do what I want.” These are silly and outdated rules about what areas you can operate in, they are not practical for now and the future--it really has never been productive.

Chris: In the 21st century, it takes quite a bit to make a living. I can’t imagine a better way to go about it--if you are going to be an artist, why not spend the rest of your time doing something creative as well?

Shepard: That is exactly my thought as well. I studied illustration at RISD and really got into screen-printing and graphic design because I was super into making T-shirts. When I got out of school I never had any intention of working as an illustrator; I wanted to be a designer and screen printer because that would [give me access to the equipment I needed to] keep making posters and T-shirts. So initially I thought “To make a living, I’ll screen-print for other people because that will give me a reason to have the equipment to make my own stuff and it will justify the expense of having the studio” but that was a difficult way to make a living. While I was holding a squeegee, I was not honing my skills as an artist. I transitioned into graphic design because I was not selling much art at all — my posters were five bucks and I was putting most of them on the street. When I did designs for people, it was really elevating my craft in a way I could apply to my own work. It both served as a way to make my living and further my skills.
I also felt that “fine art” was too elitist for my approach to engaging people. The things that affected me were not always “high art”--it was much more album packaging, skateboard graphics, punk T-shirts and flyers.

Photo by Chris Rubino

Chris: Your work does look like music packaging and other pop culture icons have influenced it. You do not see fine art making its way into daily culture this way too often.

Shepard: No, you don’t. There are a few people that have bridged those worlds. There are plenty of people that are graphic artists that are better known as fringe artists. I really dig their work and I don’t think they are any less legitimate because they weren’t traditional painters. I love what both of you do, everything from publishing to music to advertising and illustration. To me, that’s stuff that really enhances someone’s experience without having them go out of their way. When you pick up a magazine and it is really beautifully designed that enhances the entire experience, you don’t have to take a trip to a gallery – it’s right there. I think it’s really important to embed art in what people will be confronted with in their normal day-to-day business.

Illustration by Chris Rubino

Art and commerce need each other.

Chris: When preparing for an exhibition, do you think in a different way than when preparing for an ad campaign?

Shepard: For years I didn’t at all. I would be making sure that the client’s agenda was dealt with and then hopefully, simultaneously my own agenda was getting dealt with. More recently, because of how broad the audience is and how high the stakes are, I do. I consider all of these things that are better parts of communication, like stylistic references from previous genres of design. The art critics were all very dismissive of that. You never see anyone dismissing that in graphic and illustrative design work; it is seen as creating a mood or being a clever reference or whatever. But in fine art, it means that it is unoriginal. I find that incredibly frustrating, what I now have to think of – how am I going to take all of the principles of art and design that matter to me, and apply it in a bulletproof way to whatever fine art that I am doing? It is really fucking annoying.

by Deanne Cheuk

The problem is, if there were no gatekeepers between my work and the general public, if there weren’t these critics who dictate what is valid and invalid, I would not care. It is something to take in to consideration. The whole idea for me is always to have a strong design sense in everything that I do, and hopefully artistry in the design. Design in my fine art and art in my design. 

Chris: It is interesting to see how the art world is so resistant to anyone coming from a design background and vice versa. Some designers don’t want to be seen as artists. We don’t really need these labels anymore. The way things are manufactured right now, it’s all coming from a similar place.

Shepard: I agree completely. I’ve always felt that whatever the route to a powerful visual is, is valid if the results are strong. Like whether something was created by hand or digitally--yes, I am always impressed when someone can paint or illustrate by hand and I think that adds an idiosyncratic touch to it--a lot of people get caught up in “This was done by hand, so this is legitimate” and “This was done with the aid of the computer so that is not real art.’ That is total bullshit. Artists have always used the tools that allow them to achieve what they wanted to achieve. In the end, a good visual makes a statement that endures.

Chris: I agree. How the work is produced is insignificant if it is effective for how it is being used. Whether is it is the public or a gallery, if people respond to it, then it is successful.

Illustration by Chris Rubino

Deanne: If your art career took off way beyond your design career, would you stop doing commercial projects?

Shepard: I am actually at that point now, where if I did not want to do commercial projects then I would not have to. But doing commercial work is not always about revenue; it is about accessibility and cross-pollination with an audience that might not be familiar with my work as a street artist or a fine artist.

For example, right now I’m doing Tom Petty’s live thirty-year anthology. I’m a fan of Tom Petty, so getting to design the whole package is really fun, and something that I want to do. I make huge LP jackets on my own, which is what Tom Petty saw and liked, so there is no distinction between what I am doing as a designer and fine artist. The other advantage of doing projects like this is that it’s a great way to put my imagery in front of an audience that may not know my work.

Illustration by Chris Rubino

Chris: I like that idea of no distinction. That would almost be a better name than “Transitionists.”

Shepard: There are several “no distinction” projects I’ve been able to do, commercial art pieces that were exactly what I would do as a fine art piece. For the Walk the Line movie poster I did a silhouette based on a still of Joaquin Phoenix posed like Johnny Cash, but the illustrated essence of it is 100% Johnny Cash. I love Johnny Cash and it looked like a poster that would have come out as a Hatch Show Print in the ‘60s when Johnny Cash was just making a huge splash. I am really proud of the art.

There are a lot of commercial projects that I enjoy doing. Most artists cannot make a living on just art. It’s unrealistic and downright cruel to criticize artists for taking commercial or design jobs. I know so many people that keep it like a dirty secret, like they are ashamed of it. There is nothing to be ashamed of!

Chris: I was shocked at the resistance that we ran into, inviting people that are clearly doing both of these things into this issue.

Shepard: A lot of times people look at design work as “selling out”, which is such a ridiculous term anyway--it’s so nebulous that it’s difficult to defend against it. It’s like “Yes, when you do commercial work, you can make money from it.” But you’re actually providing a service, and to me it’s not nearly as shady as a lot of the ways that prices get manipulated in the fine art world. I know fine artists who restrict the supply of their work and use a gallery to manipulate stuff at auction, and [while supposedly “pure” art] that’s a system much more based on financial motivations.

[It doesn’t make sense that] the idea of working for a living should be a bad thing. Imagine going to the grocery store and the cashier is like, ‘ I feel like shit for charging you for a can of soda.’ Artists shouldn’t feel bad for doing design work and worry about people finding out about it. It is just really insane. Art and commerce need each other.