March 22, 2011
Vincent Pacheco’s Cigarette Pack Paintings
Portraits of cigarette packs by artist & graphic-designer, Vincent Pacheco.
(via: MKTG)
(A few more package-related paintings by Pacheco, after the fold…)
March 17, 2011
Auction House Packaging
A long time ago I worked in the advertising department of Christie’s auction house, where it fell to us to design their magazine ads and catalog covers, etc. There was also a photo department where they took photographs of the consigned artworks.
As we near the end of our double week of Kellogg’s Corn Flakes—(scraping the bottom of the bowl?)—we are again resorting to Pop Art. These two photographs, each showing an arrangement of Warhol’s shipping cartons (including the Kellogg’s Corn Flakes type) are from the two major competing auction houses: Christie’s above and Sotheby’s, on right.
Neither of these packaging arrangements are the type you would see at the supermarket. In a retail setting (of course) the stacked display would be retail packages, rather than shipping cartons and they would most likely be all the same brand. Maybe you would see this sort of thing in some unusually haphazard grocery store stockroom? I don’t know. I never worked in a grocery.
What the two photos do show is the variability of permissible arrangements that these sculptures may be placed in. These two competitors are each offering nearly identical collections—although the Sotheby’s collection does contain an added Del Monte carton—but their “product photos” are very different.
Christie’s, here went in for the sort of “casually flung” arrangement suggesting a communing between the different brands. like a arrangement of furniture to help facilitate conversation.
Sotheby’s arrangement is the more daring, I think. Their boxes are displayed at alternating angles in a single stack—a pop art version of Brâncuşi’s endless column.
Randy Ludacer
Beach Packaging Design
March 16, 2011
UPC as Package Proxy
While I’m not that into all of Bernard Solco’s creative output (His “pop” portraits of celebrities seem to skew Republican.) I do like these UPC prints from his “Symbology” series.
Does the barcode on the wall, serve as a proxy for a decoratively-problematic corn flakes package? Pop Art for people with Minimalist sensibilities?
Although Solco does go to considerable effort to put his work in a Pop Art context:
All editions are printed by the artist and Alexander Heinrici in his studio in NYC. Heinrici is a “Master Printer” whose expertise was also utilized by Andy Warhol for the Campbell’s soup can series…
Top left: Welch’s Grape Jelly Print; on right: Campbell’s Chicken Noodle Soup Print; lower left: Fedex Code Print; on right: Kodak Film Print
It’s easy to imagine how Solco’s blending of abstraction and brand-specificity might appeal to corporate art collections…
“Bernard Solco has painted more than 60 UPC Barcode Paintings for private and corporate collectors such as Kodak, America Online, and Tim Smucker.”
…but the general public has also embraced this sort of thing—barcodes, and other opaque symbols, as fashion and decor. (See: Consumed Column, Style Decoder)
Why is this? These codes may contain all sorts of data, but the information is not readily accessible to the naked eye. Yes, barcodes & QR codes can be scanned and decoded with the right smart phone app, but that doesn’t explain their popularity as decorative patterns.
I think it’s precisely because we can’t just read their information that they are popular. Unlike a television commercial whose commercial message you involuntarily absorb, encoded information you don’t have to receive unless (for some reason) you want to.
Until decoded, these are just abstract patterns and you get to remain blissfully ignorant of any content they might contain. (Unless its meaning is explicitly spelled out, as it is in Solco’s Kellogg’s Corn Flakes UPC)
Randy Ludacer
Beach Packaging Design
March 4, 2011
Georgina Luck’s Spattered Packagings
And on the subject of messy packaging … Lately, I‘ve been seeing Georgina Luck’s illustrations of food packaging appearing on other package-related blogs and I’m happy to join the pack.
I like the explosive Ralph Steadman style spatter she employs—(example of Steadman’s style)—but seeing it applied to pictures of packaging, the effect is different.
Each of her packages appears to have been rendered with a singular splat onto the page. While “linear skeins of paint dripped and thrown” may ultimately lead back to Jackson Pollock and abstract expressionism—in this context, with this subject matter, it looks as if the contents in each container could not be contained. Not that this failure of containers to actually contain is necessarily a bad thing. Here, as with the spatters & drips on packaging mentioned yesterday, the messiness of the package seems to signal succulent contents.
Also cool that she chose to feature the Royal Baking Powder can—the clearest and most direct example of a Droste effect package that I know of.
(Another photo from Georgina Luck’s blog, after the fold…)
March 1, 2011
Paul McCarthy’s Ketchup Brand(s)
When I first saw the photo of “Daddies Tomato Ketchup” on left, I thought it must be fictitious product, invented by artist, Paul McCarthy. It turns out to be a real brand, apparently owned by Heinz. (Heinz ketchup is another brand sometimes used as a medium in McCarthy’s artwork.)
Photo on right is a detail from “Ketchup Sandwich” an installation in which layers of Heinz ketchup are spread between layers of glass. (Photo from minimapedalia’s Flickr Photostream)
Originally formally trained as a painter, McCarthy’s main interest lies in everyday activities and the mess created by them.
(from Wikipedia’s entry on Paul McCarthy)
In McCarthy’s oeuvre, there is particular emphasis on the mess made by ketchup. And although he uses various foods as a proxy for bodily fluids he says, “there is a big difference between ketchup and blood.”
Below is McCarthy’s Daddies Tomato Ketchup Inflatable, 2007
Randy Ludacer
Beach Packaging Design
February 15, 2011
More Drips
More drip/droplet packaging. Following up on an earlier post about this trend, I’m seeing more examples…
1. Magic marker brand, Krink is doing the Absolut Vodka thing, on left—thereby making the connection between packaging drips and graffiti absolutely explicit. (via: PopSop)
2. The single golden drip featured on Moruba’s label design for Karey Olive Oil (center) is more an illustration of package contents and about as far from expressionistic graffiti style as you can get. Have to admire the astute typographic insight that enabled the designer to see the discreet teardrop that was always latent in that sideways “y.” (via: the dieline)
3. Mystery packs: I don’t know where I found the blue-yellow-red bath set bottles, on right. I have lost track of my source. (If anyone knows, please tell me; I don’t like making them anonymous.) The dripping paper collar loops that cover the caps and tuck-in are interesting. The connotations here (for dripping primary colors) seem to be more painterly—less “street art.”
(A video of the Krink/Absolut bottle, after the fold…)
February 11, 2011
Joshua Casey’s Empty Package Paintings
Paintings of empty packages by Josh Casey…
This new collection of paintings is an extension my own background in package design and product illustration. It also pays tribute to my interest in antiquated objects and the empty vessels of mass consumption. These everyday objects were intended to be used and discarded but have miraculously survived and traveled through time like an ark, carrying nothing but bearing the patina and wear of its human contact and documenting the eroding landscape of the 20th century.
(A couple more of his paintings, after the fold…)
February 10, 2011
Tom Pfannerstill’s Trompe-l’oeil Packaging
Pfannerstill retrieves “trash” from the street and takes it into the studio where… He carefully and faithfully reproduces the object in wood and paint…
from Cumberland Gallery announcement:
‘Talking Trash’ With Tom Pfannerstill
In this context, when you see the word, “trash” — read: “packaging”.
(via: the MKTG Tumbler site)
(See also: Packaging Walk and Sergeech)
Randy Ludacer
Beach Packaging Design
February 4, 2011
Pamela Michelle Johnson:
Vanitas & Fast Moving Consumer Goods
PB&J / 30"x36" / oil on canvas / 2010
It’s been Wonder Bread week here on boxvox. (In case you were wondering…) Since last Friday.
To close out the thread and (hopefully) lead us on to other topics, I’m starting off with the painting above from the “Series II” still-life paintings of Pamela Michelle Johnson. (via: the MKTG Tumbler site) Note: the rumpled Wonder bread bag…
Two things strike me about this body of work:
Thing 1: They suggest the traditional conflicts of abundance & decay found in vanitas still-lifes …
Vanitas paintings gather up objects that indicate abundance and decay, luxury and waste, to remind you that nothing lasts forever, particularly yourself. Some exude austerity, thumping the death note pretty hard; others luxuriate in a pile-up of earthly bric-a-brac. The word itself, vanitas, means “emptiness” in Latin, and at their most moralistic, the paintings try to spark an awareness of the deficiencies of the material world, urging you to lead a good temperate life and better prepare yourself for what comes after.
The conceit gains its force through a combination of extremes (items simultaneously flourishing and decomposing), the expression of appetite (through food and place setting)… and the suggestion of human presence (the meal that looks as if it were suddenly abandoned).
Death, Abundance, and Table Settings
March 1st, 2010 by Peter B. Hyland
EGGO / 32"x40" / oil on canvas / 2010
Thing 2: By showing these packaged foods towards the very end of their useful life, Johnson highlights the “negative moment” that Thomas Hine talks about in his book, The Total Package:
“… once the product has been used up, and the package is empty, it becomes suddenly visible once more. This time, though, it is trash that must be discarded or recycled. This instant of disposal is the time when people are most aware of packages. It is a negative moment, like the end of a love affair, and what’s left seems to be a horrid waste.”
Zeroing in on specific consumer brands in relative isolation—(rather than showing cornucopias of variety and abundance)—Johnson portrays packaging and contents in use. The packaging in particular appears to have been thoroughly used. Bottles & jars are mostly empty. Boxes are already halfway crushed—(well in advance of the trash compactor).
Certainly not advertising imagery, but still appetising in sad sort of way. Where early vanitas painting reminded 16th and 17th century viewers of their own inevitable death, these paintings present the brief, but profitable lifespan of fast moving consumer goods. And as consumers who strongly identify with what they consume, this works on us in pretty much the same way—reminding each us of our own expiration date.
(More paintings by Pamela Michelle Johnson, after the fold…)
January 21, 2011
Rat Fink Packaging
On left: packaging for Ed Roth licensed products from House Industries; on right: Rat Fink in a can of 1 Shot paint from Jalopy Journal
I was terrible at building models as a kid and was always a little disappointed that the plastic parts weren’t already colored since I couldn’t hope to paint them as nicely as the picture on the box. Still, when I was a kid in the sixties I remember asking for and receiving a Revelle Rat Fink model. I think it was one of the hot rod series, although I was really mainly into the rat…
Anyway, it seems I was in good company seeing as how House Industries co-founder, Andy Cruz was also into R.F.
“…Around this time, Cruz’s obsession with the Southern California hot-rod culture epitomized by Ed “Big Daddy” Roth, the car builder and illustrator famed for his grotesque Rat Fink caricatures, and was spending all his extra money on Rat Fink models, iron-ons, decals and other ephemera. “It hit me one day,” he says. “Why not have my hobby work for me?” In 1996, Cruz’s revelation led to a licensed collaboration with Roth that yielded his Rat Fink font, a translation of Roth’s hand-lettered type into the digital realm.”
–Jesse Ashlock, AIGA
I’ve gotten plenty of use out of those Rat Fink fonts, but it’s interesting to learn the back story behind their getting into this area in such big way.
The most important part of inspiration is being true to one’s sources, so we jumped at the opportunity to work with hot rodding legend Ed “Big Daddy” Roth. Ed was a pop artist, accomplished letterer and a consummate self-promoter, which are all cues we took when conceptualizing our first foray into licensing. By combining our maniacal penchant for authenticity and our appreciation for Ed’s impact on the masses, we reintroduced his genius with eight fonts, 32 pieces of artwork and an authentic Revell-style model box.
“Rat Fink” House Industries
(Note: the can of 1 Shot paint in Rat Fink’s hand above)
(More of their pinstriping T-Shirt cans, after the fold…)
January 20, 2011
Freehand Pinstriping
Among the T shirt designs sold by House Industries are shirts that read “Freehand Pinstriping”—based on a retired, hand-lettered clipboard by Angelo Cruz. (father of House Industries co-founder, Andy Cruz)
These shirts (with their self-referential, freehand-pinstriped lettering) also come packaged in a cross-category paint can.
Between comments like “hey dude that’s bad, can you teach me?” and “why don’t you just use tape like everybody else does,” Angelo Cruz has a tough time actually getting to the shiny stretches of new automotive sheet metal to which he applies a thin stripe of 1 Shot with a ferrule full of squirrel hair.
As we’ve been grappling with the whole “Kustom Kulture” pinstriping gestalt this week it’s become evident that the freehand component is key.
(Some videos of pinstripers at work, after the fold…)
January 19, 2011
1 Shot Beer & Cigarettes
Following our “1 Shot” paint thread, brings us to Lance Freitag’s “1 Shot Paint / Limited Edition Package”
“This project was for my typography 4 class… I decided to do a special package for the pinstriping culture. I used 1 Shot paint as my company, they play a very large roll in the culture. I rebranded 1 shot, I didn’t want to use their existing logo.”
Debated with myself whether it would be just too obnoxious to put a “[sic]” after “culture” since it’s gernerally kulture with a “K” in this context…
Interesting, that Freitag’s package contains beer & cigarettes, rather than paint. Another attempt to combine smoking & drinking under the banner a single popular brand? Seems like a long shot to envision a paint company getting into alcohol & tobacco, but no crazier than Marlboro Beer, I suppose.
(See also: our earlier posts during Smoking & Drinking Week)
Randy Ludacer
Beach Packaging Design
January 18, 2011
1 Shot Mascot
1 Shot is another company with an official anthropomorphic packaging mascot. Their anthro-pack is a cross-eyed paint can, named Louie, who holds a paintbrush in one hand and… I think that’s an airbrush in the other hand.
It was Chris Caccamise’s “Action Paint Can” that first prompted me to look into “1 Shot” paints. Turns out they’re the go-to brand for serious practitioners in the art of Kustom Kulture pin-striping.
(And another thing, after the fold…)
January 17, 2011
Action Paint Can
Chris Caccamise: “Action Paint Can (After R. Gober)” 2008 (via: Cereal Art)
Randy Ludacer
Beach Packaging Design
January 4, 2011
Zipper/Banana Mash-Up
The cover of The Dandy Warhols’ 2003 album, “Welcome to the Monkey House” featured this painting by Ron English. (a mash-up of the 2 aforementioned Andy Warhol album covers: Velvet Underground “banana“ & Rolling Stones “zipper”)
See also: Bananagrams
Randy Ludacer
Beach Packaging Design
December 31, 2010
The Velvet Underground: Book & Banana
Only collectible because of the influential band that named themselves after a copy they found in the street: this 1963 paperback “The Velvet Underground” by Michael Leigh (on left) was given to me as a birthday present around 1983–84. (from someone in another rather influential band)
Can’t say I’ve ever read it cover to cover, but I like the whippy “T” typography and have kept it in its protective plastic for 28 years. (Also: am I crazy or is the S&M boot illustration by Paul Bacon Studio on the cover kind of related to Warhol’s early shoe illustration work?)
The book on the right was a 1968 follow up sequel. (Nice that it features a photo of the earlier book.)
Also collectible: the first Velvet Underground album (below left)—the one with the peel-able yellow banana skin sticker. (We have one of those too, but only because Debby was cool enough to buy one and her records are mixed in with mine.) It always struck me funny how Andy Warhol’s signature was so prominent with no mention at all of the Velvet Underground or Nico on the front cover. Similar to Robert Brownjohn’s humorously arrogant stationery design for Michael Cooper. (Of course there might have been more information on a label affixed to the disposable shrink-wrap…)
The album with the green banana (on right) is the 2007 “Unripened” bootleg LP, made from an acetate pressing of an earlier version of the official 1967 release. (different mixes, different takes, etc.)
On the original cover the small printed instructions read, “PEEL SLOWLY AND SEE”; the instructions next to the green banana read, “UNRIPENED LISTEN SLOWLY AND HEAR.”
There are lots of other versions of (and allusions to) this album cover, and Warhol’s silkscreened banana design has been pretty influential in its own right.
(A bootleg book/record cover and some related Warhol/Velvets banana merchandise, after the fold…)
December 22, 2010
Robert Motherwell & Gauloises Caporal
In the late 1960s Robert Motherwell, better known for his black & white, abstract-expressionist paintings, felt an attraction to Gauloises blue cigarette packaging:
I remember when in the last few years I made a series of aquatints with the Gauloises blue cigarette package—because I love that blue as part of the image—Helen Frankenthaler looking at me with stupefaction and saying, “I can’t imagine you being a Pop artist.” And certainly from the French point of view it must look like Pop Art. To me it looked as exotic as Tahiti must have looked to French travelers.
Robert Motherwell, 1971 (via: WarholStars.org)
(A couple of his cigarette pack aquatints, after the fold…)



























