“I used to be disgusted. Now I try to be amused…” *

In the early 1990s, Rykodisc began reissuing the Elvis Costello catalogue on CD. That was a very big deal for the label. And, as a huge fan, I was stoked. Although we would not be doing the design and packaging — an outside company was hired by Demon Records — we would still be involved and seeing proofs of the product before they hit the streets.  As with all of the label’s catalog undertakings (Frank Zappa, David Bowie, Yoko Ono among others) the Rykodisc product, sound, and packaging set a high mark in the industry, in the press and with the fans alike.

Fast forward to late 1994 when, one late morning, the president of Rykodisc came down and had a chat with me. Apparently, Costello’s camp (and perhaps Ryko’s although I don’t know that) wanted to move forward with the planned new “Greatest Hits” album that spanned Costello’s career and was not finding anything they loved for the cover. Don asked if I wanted to give this a try and, of course, I said Yes!, with maybe a curse word added. He then told me there were some conditions…a picture had already been selected for the cover. No big deal. That happens all the time. But then there was, “We need to show them something in a couple of hours, and would like to have it approved by end of day, tomorrow latest.” Whoah. Ok…I’ll drop everything. And then the big one: “And, if approved, unfortunately you won’t be receiving a design credit on the finished product.” Ouch. OK. No problem. Let’s go…

I went straight to work and got something for Don to send and, with perhaps a couple of minor changes, it was approved by their timeline! Wow. So here is the cover I designed for “The Very Best of Elvis Costello and The Attractions,” along with a copy of the longbox for the CD bins, which due to size, featured a different (better?) crop.

Sometimes, heavy demands yield a good day. And who knew the angels wanted to wear my red shoes!

* This a great lyric and gets better as time rolls by. However, it is also a great headline. To be clear, I never felt “disgusted” that I did not receive a credit. Of course I would have liked one, but it did not impact my passion, my work, and certainly not my enthusiasm to design a cover for not only a favorite artist, but a legendary one. I have, however, become “amused” when, doing research on Elvis’ “Greatest Hits” reissues that they seem to have a shortage of design/art direction credits, with one exception being “The Best of Elvis Costello: The First 10 Years.” Oh well. Being amused is always better than being disgusted.

Rewind to the beginning…

As a New Year’s goal, I decided I wanted to tell more backstories behind some of the album covers and other design work I have created. I thought it might be fun to go back to the beginning, as during a massive “clean up,” (last year’s New Year promise) I came upon perhaps the earliest work I have done.

In my senior year at Boston University, I interned at ClarkeGowardFitts, one of *the* hottest ad agencies in Boston in the early to mid-80s. Upon graduation, Creative Director Jim FItts— my favorite and most influential professor — offered me a job at the agency and it was there I got my start..

Now, remember: EVERYTHING was different in the mid-80’s. Desktop computers were not a thing, type was sent out on paper, marked up for font, size, leading, headers, and the like, and comprehensive layouts were done by hand, in house, for internal review, and then tightened up to go out to clients. Photoshop? Please. We had markers. But lo and behold, it was these three hand-drawn comps that I created that I unearthed.

The prospective client was Linn Drum, the manufacturer of a drum machine designed by American engineer Roger Linn. His first drum machine, the Linn LM-1, was released in 1980; it retailed for $5,500, making it affordable only to wealthy musicians and studios. As an assistant art director, I had to present the campaign internally, write the headlines and come up with suitable graphics. 

So without further ado, here they are!

Click image to enlarge

A couple of things: first off, apologies to all of my drummer friends. LOL. It was 1985. What did I know? Second, I’m pretty sure the photo listed as Niles Rodgers is actually Sly Stone, so the answer to the aforementioned question is “not much.” Lastly, those cows look *a lot* like they belong in Gary Larson’s “The Far Side.” Just sayin’…

Apparently, design and music was my destiny from the start. Only a couple of years later, I would assume the Art Director position at Rykodisc for many years, move to Creative Director at Rounder Records for nine more, and  freelance for many musicians and record labels to this day.

Jim Fitts and I remain friends to this day and I try to connect with him as much as I can. Incidentally, he pulled me in to teach at a small college here, which was also a wild ride. While there, I showed him a couple of cover ideas I wanted to present to a jazz musician I had been working with. These were much tighter. In fact, with Photoshop, stock photos, and typography, these comps were basically finished work. Except they weren’t. After reviewing them, Fitts told me I “wasn’t there yet” and I had to go back to the drawing board…err…computer.

I did, and what I finally came up with was miles ahead of the originals and approved immediately. Thanks for the start, middle and end, Fitts. Much appreciated…

Words. Then pictures…

I’ve long been fascinated with album covers that rely heavily on typography to get their point across. Sometimes, it’s necessity; perhaps “good” photos aren’t available or they are simply more appropriate for texture and ambience. Perhaps it is a compilation or historical record where relevant photography just isn’t available. While the following covers do feature imagery, it is decidedly secondary — or, at least, secondary to the type treatment.

“WHEN RHYTHM WAS KING” Various Artists

This is another of my favorite covers. As I’ve mentioned elsewhere on the site, the Heartbeat re-branding project leaned heavily on the packaging.

I loved the title that Chris Wilson and Josh Blood had come up with — “When Rhythm Was King” — and felt it set the tone for the project.  I had some interesting period-specific shots of a Jamaican dancehall to use, but something was missing. I started editing down some of the marketing/press copy that usually goes on the back of a compilation and put it front and center on the cover. That did the trick; suddenly, it was ALL attitude: “Collectors Beware,” “Put it on, you can’t take it off,” “Serious Thing,” and “Damn right. Studio One,” and that was just on the front cover. An aggressive and strong type treatment and a mezzotint on the vintage photographs within, completed the package. We didn’t have a lot to use, but boy, did it all hang together now — a simple but strong concept. And, of course, the music inside is up to the task. Pure Jamaican rhythms. Since Heartbeart Records is apparently no longer with us, this is one to search out. You won’t be disappointed.

DEVO “Live: The Mongoloid Years”

To be honest, this is a project that I really, really, really wanted to do a die cut for. The type would be cut out of the cover slipcase, and the photo — originally a black and white — would slide in to reveal what you see here. Unfortunately, die cuts were rather expensive back in the day so I had to improvise. This comes damn close, with the title highly readable, and the imagery taking you a minute to process. Remember those amazing days when you could actually get this close to a performer? I thought the design was pretty effective overall, and did actually look like a die cut.

Ah, budgets…the mother of creativity! Who knew..?



JAMES HAND “The Truth Will Set You Free”

I recall this photo being an early favorite of mine for the cover, and perhaps James’ as well. However, it did not really lend itself to the simple Name/Title format. The negative space, usually an asset in my eyes, proved formidable. Often, the type treatments simply got lost here. Once again, I turned to the press release that had been circulated about this release, and edited out some of my favorite bits to make a short narrative that ended with the title. It reads:

Somewhere in Texas, a haunting voice reverberates
Off saloon walls, a voice rich with the echoes of
Timeless Country music
The singer & the songwriter is James Hand
And he has a story to tell
Listen once and “The Truth Will Set You Free!”

PETER BALDRACHI “The Sweeping Hand of Love”

How does geometry, color, graphic design, the concept of “love” and perhaps a touch of nerd-ism shape an album cover? Well…that’s a good question!

Any idea what geometric abstraction is? Surely you’ve seen it on album covers, right? But that’s a tough phrase, so here’s a little help before I send you off to your record collections to sift through your favorite album covers for enlightenment. 

One definition is: “The pictorial language of geometric abstraction is based on the use of simple geometric forms placed in non-illusionistic space and combined into non-objective compositions.”

Yeah, I know: if you’re not a fine arts major or mathematician — or perhaps even if you are —  that is equal parts headache, coma-inducing or perhaps hilarious. BUT (there’s always a but…) there’s so many album covers that are designed-based upon this premise. They *are* in your collection, regardless of your preferred musical styles, I promise you.

I’ve worked with Peter Baldrachi, an independent Boston-based musician and songwriter, on a number of projects over the past few years, and this is a direction he wanted to explore for his latest single “The Sweeping Hand Of Love.” However, “love” for me, always suggests less cubism, less geometry, less structure and a more organic feel and look. So…what to do?

Well… I did offer up several geometric concepts incorporating human elements with stock photography within the shapes, but they were not exactly the feel Peter was looking for. So.. I went for something resembling geometric cubism abstract. After several color combinations, shapes, scale and type treatments, Peter was “all in”” on the one that became the cover: “LOVE it. That’s the one” the email read.

But here’s the thing: perhaps it was in only in my subconscious. I can’t say for sure whether this was a design strategy or simply instinct on my part. — artists often work instinctively, moving before thinking. However, the colors on the chosen cover *were* meaningful and did somewhat consciously convey an interpretation of love as a contradiction to the coldness of geometric abstraction.

You see. one shape is “pink,” historically a color reflecting the feminine side. The other shape, exactly the same size is “blue,” and obviously a more masculine-associated color. The box below these two shapes morph from the two squares above them to form a singular rectangle.  And, of course, as we all know, red is the color of love, although, in color theory it is Magenta and Yellow that form red but stick with me on the concept here. You join two different pieces to get a singularly powerful thing. Love.

Sometimes, you have to think about concepts like geometry and abstraction in art and design. It takes much less to think about the concept of Love — that’s more instinctive — although no less complicated. And note: I suck at anything “math.” Creative direction lies somewhere in between these concepts, at least for me.

Still,…pretty cool, huh?

PS: And, yes, we are both huge Dream Syndicate fans…

Listen (and buy!) Peter’s music here.

ORANJ SYMPHONETTE "Plays Mancini"

One of the best parts of being an Art Director and graphic designer is the joy you can discover within your work. That’s not to say it sometimes doesn’t go the other way; in fact, frustration is definitely equal parts of the gig. But when you come up with something that not only the client loves, but you love as well….that’s a good day. So I want to bring up a couple of record covers I recently came across, that I designed some time ago and probably didn’t get a lot of attention “back in the day.” But seeing them again made me smile. And write this backstory.

Oranj Symphonette was an experimental jazz-rock quintet formed from members of Tom Waits band in the Nineties. Led by cellist/bassist Matt Brubeck (son of Dave Brubeck), the group includes Joe Gore and multi-instrumentalist Ralph Carney. Individually these three have played with PJ Harvey, the B-52’s, Marc Ribot, and others. They released two albums on the jazz label Gramavision, which Rykodisc purchased in 1994. 

The band released their debut album Oranj Symphonette Plays Mancini in 1996, a tribute album to Hollywood composer, conductor and arranger Henry Mancini. I had a direction in mind and wanted it to be an illustration, and I wanted it to reflect the movie environment that most people experienced Mancini’s work in. I also wanted it to be somewhat playful, as that’s what Oranj Symphonette’s versions were.

Here’s what I came up with. It’s one of the few covers over two decades that features my rudimentary illustrative skills but I think it holds up.

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Unfortunately, Business Affairs felt there would be an issue with the pink movie-goer I wanted to include. And while I’m sure they were probably correct, sometimes you just have to go for it. Unfortunately, I did have to take him out, but here’s the original…Better, right?

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In 1988. the band released a new album titled, simply, The Oranj Album, a title with seemingly endless directions, which can be both a good and a bad thing. I went minimalist, but with an overall concept presentation on each of part of the compact disc. And the more you opened the package, the deeper into the orange you went. The inside tray card — perhaps my favorite — perfectly played off removing the orange disc from the tray.

Click on the image below for a slideshow.

Most of the time, designers always work best when you cut them loose and give them room to try out new ideas. In this case, the band and the record label (no surprise…it was Rykodisc) totally got what I was trying to do here. It was, in the words of the immortal Frank Zappa “conceptual continuity!”

SACRED COWBOYS "It's A Beautiful Day"

I recently worked on a project with a very unique aesthetic and a very different process than I’m used to. It was for the LA-based band Sacred Cowboys and I was approached by lead guitarist Peter Spirer. Peter is an old friend of mine and we’ve been working on a documentary about the rock and roll billboards of the Sunset Strip. The lead singer and chief songwriter is W. Earl Brown, who played enforcer and bodyguard Dan Dority on “Deadwood,” and is a guest star on the current hit “Mandalorian.”

The band had shot a video for a single they wanted to drop, and wondered if I could come up with cover art — NOT a video still or pull — that reflected the video. Here’s the video:

Peter sent the image below as a guide and I’ll admit upon first sight, I was unsure as to how to proceed. I was wary it might be outside my comfort zone. I turned to Peter for more insight. What was the song about? “It’s a whimsical look at life, let it be and let it go. Don’t get too hung up and stressed out,” Spirer told me. Now it sounded fun! 

What about the video? “Singer W. Earl Brown came up with the idea of doing the song in one take, which it was,” Peter informed me. “We rehearsed the blocking a number of times and once we got it down I thought we had a video. Once I got it into the editing room, I realized it needed something more.  The song has a whimsical feel and it’s about letting go. When one is able to let go, the mind opens up to imagination and a connection with nature. I wanted to give the song that kind of wonderment.” Cool! I can do fun, I thought.

There was a hitch, in that there was a specific release day that they wanted the video and song to drop; Inauguration Day. Was this political? “This song is not political though the timing of its release might be considered so. “It’s A Beautiful Day” promotes peace, love, gratitude and unity. Who isn’t depressed these days?” Spirer continued. “We felt with Covid and all the political unrest that releasing "It’s A Beautiful Day" near the inauguration would be give viewers and listeners a fresh perspective and a new start and outlook on life. Lots of people are looking forward to the day as a new beginning.”

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I thought Peter’s initial sketch captured all of the above, and simply needed some tightening up. I lost the killer whale, and changed the type. Sinatra, keyboardist Ralph Steven’s pig, is the star of the show, so I wanted him to break out of the frame. It gives the thing a bit of depth. Earl Brown then thought it should look like a poster on an old barn, surrounded by tattered remnants of other posters. I loved this idea and think it adds *a lot*. 

This was a fun project. And it’s super fun song and video. And isn’t it time for a little bit of fun? Enjoy.

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Source: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UqzrCYbCPU...

ROBERT PLANT | ALISON KRAUSS ”Raising Sand“

There was talk around the Rounder offices that Alison Krauss, the label’s biggest artist, was in the studio with legendary roots producer T-Bone Burnett. But the more interesting whisperings were that Robert Plant was involved in the project; that information was hard, if not impossible, to get confirmed. Still…the guess was a duets album. That made sense.

Raising Sand was, of course, the result of those sessions and the record would go on to win five Grammy Awards. It is an entirely unique collaboration and one I’m proud to have worked on as art director. The packaging, particularly the album cover that would perfectly capture the music and spirt of the record, was an interesting journey. There was some talk of hiring a freelancer for the packaging, and if Robert had really insisted, it likely would have gone that way. But I had a history of working with Alison and Union Station (Live, Lonely Runs Both Ways) and I vocally lobbied for myself! Moreover, I also had a connection to Robert’s manager, as she was a former employee at Rykodisc/Rykodisc Europe, where I also had worked for many years.

Alison’s longtime manager reached out to LA-based photographer Pamela Springsteen about the project. “I had never had the opportunity to photograph Robert before but I had worked with Alison,” explains Springsteen. “The first time I photographed Alison was with her band Union Station. It was for the album New Favorite, which was released in 2001. My assistant David and I flew out to Nashville for the shoot, and we spent a couple days location scouting and found an old diner called Elliston Place that let us shoot there at night after closing. The image used for the cover of the album was a shot of Alison and the band hanging out at the counter drinking coffee and eating pie. The album won the Grammy for Best Bluegrass Album in 2002.”

Robert was definitely involved in the look and direction of the album, but as Pamela recounts, “What I remember most was being asked if I could go down and meet Robert at his hotel in Santa Monica to discuss the shoot and the direction. I drove down there not knowing much about the project but very excited to be part of it. Robert came to the door and was really warm and friendly which immediately put me at ease. We talked for a couple hours and he shared his concerns about how to make what seemed like an unlikely collaboration work visually. Then he played some of the music for me which was absolutely incredible. It was a great afternoon and being a fan of Led Zeppelin and Robert Plant since I was a teenager, I couldn’t believe this was actually my job.” She’s not the only one. I vividly remember a conference call following the shoot, with Robert, Alison and Pamela and me, and thinking “damn…this is a pretty good day at work.” 

As this was still very much a secretive project, there wasn’t much internal discussion about creative direction. I’m certain the powers that be figured Robert Plant would know how he — and Alison — might want this unique project visually represented. Pamela’s recollection backs that up: “I don’t believe they had the title for the album chosen yet. We decided we wanted to keep the shoot simple and relaxed. I had a friend, Peter Philbin, who had been in the music business for years signing many successful bands to Columbia Records and he owned a house on the beach right below Robert’s hotel. I knew they would be comfortable there. We rented Peter’s beach house for the day, set up a studio in the large living room and used various locations throughout the old Spanish home. Robert initially wanted the focus to be more on Alison and said he would show up for a few shots. The day of the shoot he arrived early and I shot singles of him first while Alison was getting ready. He was immediately comfortable in front of the camera and I knew we were going to have a great day. When Alison arrived on set they had great chemistry and had such a good time together. Shooting in a relaxed environment worked really well; Robert ended up staying the whole day with us. His mischievous, playful manner brought a lightness to the shoot and he and Alison played off each other so well.”

There were a couple of shots being considered for the cover shot, but one seemed to gain traction, particularly within the Plant camp. I think everything I saw was black and white. “I always loved shooting in black and white,” Springsteen recently told me. “And in those days I was still mainly shooting film. I usually shot about 50% black and white and 50% color on my jobs. The last shot of the day was going to be on the beach when the light was at its best. The day went fast and the sun was setting. I didn’t want to create an elaborate lighting set up and lose the intimacy between them so I pulled out my high speed black and white film and captured those shots using only natural light. It was cold and we were losing light quickly so I had to shoot fast. We captured the cover in probably less than 15 minutes. It just worked.”

One of the things the shoot clearly captured was the connection between Robert and Alison. They seem so comfortable and at ease with each other. Again, Pamela: “The vibe between Robert and Alison was great, they had a lot of fun together. They are both witty and have a great sense of humor, but what also stood out was the huge amount respect they had for each other. It was a pleasure to be around, and the chemistry between them was a photographer’s dream. They played off each other incredibly well and they were very generous with each other throughout the whole shoot.”

I particularly loved the image we selected for the back cover with Alison beaming and Robert with his back to the camera. It just says so much. I asked Pamela if she instantly knew what she had captured there: “Yes, that was a perfect moment,” she told me. “They were so in sync with their steps and body language, the way he is leaning into her as she turns to look back, I’m certain he was probably telling her something to make her laugh. There was such a sweetness between them.”

Working with great photographers always makes an art director’s job easier. But, of course, there are always issues somewhere in the process. At one point, Robert asked for some minor retouching on his jeans. “It looks like I have a pocketful of conkers!” he told me. I assured him we could get rid of that, although I had no idea what the hell conkers were! I threw it out to some friends, and one who had spent some time at English prep school told me it was slang for marbles! Ah…Ok. Got it. Done!

More critically, there was some dissatisfaction within the label with the graininess of the photograph. Many, myself included, felt it only added to the mood of the image, but we did jump through a few hoops trying to get rid of it. Thankfully, after many attempts, everyone agreed that removing the grain looked wrong. Antiseptic. Just. Plain. Bad.

The horizon line to the left of Robert and Alison provided an obvious place and break for some very simple typography, and kept the emphasis on the two stars. I digitally extended the beach to run across the inside three panels, and a matte finish reinforced the low key vibe of the record. And there it was…

I’ll let Pamela take it from here… ”It was such an honor to work with these two greats and to be part of this fantastic album. The album won a Grammy in every category it was nominated for including “Album Of The Year” on February 8th, 2009 (which also happened to be my birthday!)”

I could not have said it better. It was simply a pleasure to work on beautiful, one-of-a-kind record with some incredibly talented people.

BRANFORD MARSALIS QUARTET ”Four MF's Playin' Tunes“

After Songs of Mirth and Melancholy, his gorgeous duet album with Joey Calderazzo, Branford Marsalis returned to his quartet for the next record, Four MF’s Playin’ Tunes. It was the first Branford Marsalis Quartet project since 2009 and featured newly enlisted drummer Justin Faulkner, and Marsalis was very excited about this version of the band. That, in fact, was the basis of his visual direction to me: this band was hot, they played extremely well off of each other, and each player was an integral piece. And, with that, I was off…

I came up with a concept that was easy to explain, but understood that it might be hard to visualize, since the whole hook played off the camera’s shutter speed. The idea was to feature each member, starting with Branford, seated in a simple chair against a white seamless backdrop. Then, behind him, the other three band members would hustle in and out, constantly walking and moving behind Branford. The photographer, Eric Ryan Anderson, would then focus on Marsalis, sitting extremely still, and utilize a very slow shutter speed so everyone else would be a blur. I thought this perfectly represented Branford’s idea of this band.

To fully illustrate that each person, at some point, stood at the center of the music, we had each member take his turn “in the chair,” while the former subject joined in the blur of energy in the background. It was awesome, simultaneously one of the most fun —  and most stressful — shoots I’ve ever worked on. The very nature of the concept was random; you simply couldn’t tell what you were going to get, but thank goodness for the digital age. Laptops gave us real-time updates where we could make adjustments instantly; this would have been a nightmare, if not impossible, with film. Eric Ryan Anderson was brilliant, and the band was tireless in our pursuit of what we were looking to execute.

Knowing we had achieved what we wanted, we celebrated and called it a day. We took a TON of pictures, and although many weeded themselves out for various reasons — people had walked out of the frame, the subject at the center had moved and was also blurry — we had lot to choose from, and everyone found a shot of themselves they liked. For once, we did not have to find a single photo of four people, where all four people were happy with how they looked!

As I laid out a series of approved photographs, I had an idea on how to further the metaphor of Branford’s vision of the band. Since they were ALL integral to the band, why not make a booklet where you could fold it in a way that each band member could be on the cover? By reproducing the title of the record on each panel, this could be easily accomplished — and, boy, did the rhythm section love this concept! Although the record did not yet have a title, I mocked it up with some dummy type and worked with our printer to get a fold that could accommodate this concept. It was very cool — perfect “conceptual continuity” to quote the late, great Frank Zappa.

Now…about that title. The shoot was over, the design work nearly finished, but there was still no title for the record. There was a conference call with Branford, his management/label reps, and myself and, after much discussion, Branford was exasperated and said “I don’t care what you call it. Call it four motherfuckers playing tunes.” The call ended shortly after that, but I could not get that potential title out of my head. It fit *perfectly* and after some discussion, a censored version got the official go ahead.

There was still one more piece to complete; the tray card. That piece can fill up quickly, with the tracks and times featured, and the necessary evils of logos, legal lines and the UPC shoehorned in. It simply doesn’t leave much room for graphics, particularly if you’re looking at a full band shot. Combing through the photos, I was struck by a singular image, likely a throwaway shot simply to check lighting and framing. It was the lone chair that quietly shared the stage with the quartet, in stark light against the seamless background fabric. Not only did it offer lots of negative space to accommodate all of the type, it presented a beautiful idea to me. After the shoot was over, it was the last thing standing, and for my concept of the revolving group energy around each musician, it offered up the metaphor of being the musical document left behind from the band, their recording sessions, and the photo shoot.

I’ve recently come across Yo Yo Ma’s latest release “Six Revolutions: Bach Cello Suites” and did a double, triple and quadruple take. I thought, “That’s my cover for ‘Four MF’s! Right down to the simple chair!” I put a lot of conceptual thought into this project and can’t help but wonder what the thought process was behind the Ma cover. They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but, man…I can only hope it’s an homage of some sort and not just co-opting the concepts and ideas I brought to bear for the “Four MF’s…” project. Damn!

STEVE OLSON “Conversations” and “The Ruthless Shapes of Paradise”

I love working with jazz musicians. Maybe it’s the way they’re wired — pre-disposed to experimentation, risk-taking and collaboration. Most musicians I’ve worked with tend to be that way as well, but the jazz guys are always open to out-of-the-box thinking. And, maybe, it’s that I’ve been especially happy with the jazz covers I’ve designed through the process.

Steve Olson is a Baltimore-area drummer and producer who reached out to me, as a fan of the Raising Sand artwork from the 2008 Robert Plant and Alison Krauss record. We’ve done two records together, and Steve has sent several other jazz musicians my way. Here’s the backstory on Steve’s two records, Conversations and The Ruthless Shapes of Paradise.

I did not know of Steve’s work, but he explained to me “the concept behind Conversations was intimate, one-on-one duos with other musicians.” His notes, included in the CD packaging, referenced “conversations, dialogue, and aural paintings.”

We looked at a lot of images, from a variety of styles and subject matter, and kept coming back to the cafe table and chairs. I believe Steve found it.

Below left is the original color version he presented me. I recently asked him what the image said to him. He responded:

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“To me, the close surroundings, and the chairs and table, imply that a very personal communication between two people either just occurred, or is about to. Or from the listener’s perspective, they are about to have that conversation with the musicians, or eavesdrop on one.”

I definitely concurred that this image addressed all of those things. I LOVED the colors in the original, but felt it wasn’t quite right. I thought maybe the colors were too strong and wanted to simplify it, to zero in on just the image itself, so I drained all of the color and pushed the contrast to make it even more monochromatic. Now, it spoke to me. 

I also cropped the shot to two chairs, instead of the three, with one of those two also cropped out of the photo, and putting more focus on the one with its “back” to the viewer. This, combined with the starkness, gave the composition a bit of mystery… an edge. It felt like “unfinished” business to me. Did we interrupt something, rather than simply eavesdrop? Like great music or lyrics, I find things much more interesting where there are multiple possibilities, leaving that final assumption to the viewer/listener. Finally, I used very simple and strong type so that emphasis is left focused on the table and chairs.

We next worked together on, The Ruthless Shapes of Paradise, a trio featuring Steve accompanied by Denman Maroney on “hyperpiano," and Oscar Noriega on alto saxophone and bass clarinet.

Steve is a huge fan of Mark Rothko, and had hopes of licensing one of his pieces of art for this project, but that proved economically challenging. What was it, I wondered, about Rothko’s art that attracted the drummer, and why was that a starting point for this project visually? 

Olson explains: “I’ve loved Rothko’s work since I first saw it decades ago, long before I was a musician. Much of this recording was inspired by the music, and esthetic, of composer Morton Feldman, who was a close friend of Rothko’s. Their art was intertwined in the 1940s and ‘50s. So I knew right away that I wanted a Rothko-esque visual to go along with the Feldman-esque music.”

Luckily, I found a wealth of Rothko-inspired artwork that did fit our budget. I focused on the word “Ruthless” in the title; that word, to me, was very angry…very hot. Following that lead, I weeded out any works that had muted colors or earth tones. I also focused on pieces that were more shapeless, with space and breathing room, than Rothko’s more grid-oriented work.

I adjusted and pushed the colors to create a palette I felt represented all of the above, and utilized a single piece of art for the additional panels, changing only the color. I again utilized a simple typeface, less as conscious branding, but rather as a nod to the simplicity and effectiveness as those classic Blue Note and, especially ECM, covers.

So. Did we find Rothko, space, art, and music?

“Very much so. The cover depicts openness, possibility, yet also purpose and possible directions. Exactly the same as the music,” concludes Olson.

Now…about that title…

“I stole the phrase from a biography of composer Morton Feldman. The writer used it to describe Feldman’s music. I just loved the turn of phrase, and thought it nicely described both the joy and pain of creating art.”

Jazz cats…they’re a special breed.

BRANFORD MARSALIS/JOEY CALDERAZZO "Songs of Mirth and Melancholy"

Branford Marsalis has always provided his music to me in advance and asked me to "design what you hear." Believe me, those words are an art director's dream; that level of trust is really hard to find. But it also places an enormous responsibility on your shoulders; you really want to make sure you get it right.

This project was a collaboration with longtime Marsalis pianist Joey Calderazzo and presented a unique challenge; to my ears, the music was incredibly "open" and sparse, with lots of space around the two instruments. At the same time, there was a very obvious familiarity between the two musicians, and that closeness also informed the music. I was intent on somehow capturing and conveying these two disparate concepts on the cover.

CD/LP Back Cover Photo

I knew the focus, or part of it at least, would be on Branford and Joey. I came up with the idea of using scale to represent the openness of the music; the familiarity aspect would have to be provided by the two musicians.  I mocked up some very detailed computer sketches for Branford to help visualize and explain my concept using stock art and models.

With a preliminary green light, I started looking for locations with high ceilings and a unique, ambient vibe, as I did not want the musicians to be overwhelmed by their surroundings. I found a warehouse space in South Boston for the shoot, and it was perfect; a giant, empty space with concrete floors and a huge brick wall painted white. I knew the musicians would just pop right out of that background. Unfortunately, that plan fell apart at the last minute.

I discovered that the photographer for the shoot, Boston-based Stephen Sheffield, had a connection to the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. The museum had just recently opened the new Art of the Americas wing, which featured a beautiful, massive granite wall. We negotiated to do the shoot on a Monday holiday. However, a holiday meant more visitors and we had to start the shoot at 6 a.m. to be finished when the museum opened to the public at 9 a.m. Working musicians seldom like a call time that early, but we were running up against a tour, so Branford and Joey, knowing our time constraints, were game. The space was lit by skylights, which meant we did not need to set up any additional lighting and could move quickly.

Obviously, an outtake.

Sheffield and I started marking off spots on the floor for the musicians to stand and began framing the shot. Sadly (predictably?), my tight script just wasn't working; I had pictured the musicians at either corner of the frame, walking either toward or away from each other. Unfortunately, it lacked the energy I was seeking and looked "too" staged. Thank goodness for digital cameras tethered to laptops so you can see the shoot in real time!

Meanwhile, Branford and Joey started goofing around and cracking jokes. Sheffield was ready and snapped the singular shot that became the cover There were no others like it because Joey had just said something that made Branford laugh. If you look closely, Branford is covering his mouth and Joey is looking off to the side so that he, also, wouldn't start cracking up. ONE shot. And there you have it...that "thing" we were missing; that "thing" that gave a human connection to the scale and space concept. The poster really accentuated the spatial concept, due to not being constrained to a square format.

By the way, Branford was also more than capable of being a cutup, and both the musicians kept the shoot quite loose as Sheffield and I fine-tuned ideas on the fly. See the outtake above left. In retrospect, I think Branford and Joey's personalities were key to the success of the shoot, and the body language on the back cover illustrates those split-second moments that work.

Poster

I have always looked to some of the classic Blue Note covers for inspiration. Reid Miles and Francis Wolffe really changed album cover design with their interesting use of size, scale, perspective and, of course, their simple yet beautiful typography. This was my guide — and goal — for this album cover, and  "Songs of Mirth and Melancholy" remains one of my favorite covers I've worked on.