Upcoming guest, Pum Lefebure 每 inside 'Phalli's Field', one of Yayoi Kusama's ※Infinity Mirror§ rooms, at the Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden. Photo: Tony Powell
Season 10 of our show features an extraordinary lineup of legendary guests, offering a choice to watch or listen, and our proudest partnership yet.
We're back, and this time you can actually see us, too! Season 10 of The Creative Boom Podcast launches on Monday 13 October and it's our most ambitious yet. Every single episode recorded on video for the first time, a brilliant lineup of design legends and industry pioneers, and a partnership that feels like it was always meant to be.
Yes, James Cropper, Britain's only working paper mill and a company that's been championing creativity since 1845, is our headline sponsor for season 10. And honestly? We couldn't be more thrilled.
After all, this is a company that lives and breathes creativity, employs people who genuinely care about what they create, and believes that collaboration makes everything better. Sound familiar? It should. Because that's exactly what we're about at Creative Boom.
Let's talk about who we have lined up. Because I won't lie, this season is stacked.
We kick things off with Paul Benney, co-founder of cult clubbing magazine Jockey Slut and legendary club night Bugged Out. Now the co-founder of Disco Pogo, a new dance magazine, Paul is a key voice in rave culture and the ongoing revival of independent print. If you lived through the '90s club scene (or wish you had), this conversation will transport you.
Then, in no particular order, there's Ashley Johnson, head of brand narrative at Pentagram London. If you've ever wondered how the world's most prestigious design consultancy crafts the stories behind iconic brands, Ashley is your woman. Her approach to narrative strategy is nothing short of brilliant, and this conversation digs deep into how great brands are built on great storytelling.
Next, we sit down with Zo? Thompson, a designer and zine-maker who champions independent publishing with infectious enthusiasm. This was my first proper in-person, in-studio recording in London, and honestly? It was so much fun. Zo? celebrates print culture and DIY creativity with such genuine passion that you can't help but get swept up in it. If you've ever considered making a zine or wondered why independent publishing matters more than ever, you need to hear this.
We also chat to Emily Penny, brand strategist and writer, about where studios are going wrong with their brand messaging. Because let's get real: most of them sound exactly the same. Emily explains why that happens and, more importantly, how to stop it. If you run a studio or work in one, this episode might just change how you talk about yourselves.
Then there's Claire Blyth, who brings decades of creative comms expertise to the table. As a PR powerhouse, she's helped agencies stay visible and relevant in an increasingly noisy, AI-driven world. Claire's insights into what actually works in creative PR right now are gold dust. Trust me on this one.
Paul Benney
Zo? Thompson
Claire Blyth
Emily Penny
Brian Collins, legendary designer and founder of COLLINS, graces us with his presence, big ideas, and wonderfully playful philosophy on creativity. Brian's known for bold brand work that makes you stop and think, but what really shines through in this conversation is his cheeky side. You'll get to see the human behind the legend, and believe me, it's utterly delightful.
There's Haraldur Thorleifsson (everyone calls him Halli), who shares his remarkable story as an entrepreneur, philanthropist, and former Twitter employee who became an unlikely advocate for accessibility and kindness in tech and design. Halli's journey is extraordinary, his perspective is refreshing, and his commitment to making the industry better for all is genuinely inspiring.
Another highlight is my chat with Jeff Staple, the legendary New York designer and streetwear pioneer who founded Staple Pigeon and helped define sneaker and street culture. We discussed his new creative agency, Reed Art Department, which has had quite the successful year in business. Jeff's influence on contemporary design cannot be overstated, and hearing him reflect on building something new after decades at the top is simply fascinating.
Haraldur Thorleifsson
Ashley Johnson
Brian Collins
We're not done yet! Matt Baxter of Baxter and Bailey studio fame joins us to discuss The Design Laundry, whilst Pum Lefebure from Design Army shares exactly how to design your dream creative career and find your ideal clients.
Pum's story is all about courage, grit, passion, and knowing exactly where you want to go. She knew from the start that she wanted clients in the fashion, performing arts, and culture industries. Her laser focus and willingness to take on pro-bono projects helped Design Army win The Washington Ballet when the agency was just starting out, paving the way for the agency to pick and choose its dream clients.
After that, Joy Nazzari, founder of DNCO, brings her strategic brilliance to the conversation, whilst Stu Watson, founder of NOMAD (and husband of Marina Willer), rounds out our stellar lineup with keen insights from the coalface of contemporary branding. Phew!
Every single one of these conversations was recorded on video, marking a significant evolution for the podcast. You'll be able to watch on our YouTube channel or listen wherever you get your podcasts.
Illustration by Jane Bowyer
But don't worry: it's the same candid, thoughtful conversations you've come to expect. Just with the added dimension of seeing the laughter, the pauses, the moments where someone's eyes light up as they remember a story.
Oh, and here's another thing. Our weekly bonus episode, The Spark, is back and better than ever. So if you loved the format we introduced last season, you're in for a treat.
Each Thursday, we release these short, fun additions where guests select eight questions ranging from the absurd to the deeply meaningful. There's also the delightful rolling theme where each guest poses a question for the next guest, creating an unexpected thread throughout the season.
These audio-only episodes give you a chance to know our guests beyond the usual conversation. The questions might be daft, they might be profound, but they're always revealing. Consider it your inspiration boost as we approach the weekend.
Season 10 runs from 13 October through to January, and yes, we're hoping to include our usual Christmas special, where we invite former podcast guests to come and have some festive fun. (Details to be confirmed, but watch this space.)
What strikes me most about this season is how it represents everything Creative Boom stands for. Real conversations with real people about real creative lives. No bullshit. No pretence. Just honest dialogue about the challenges we face, the triumphs we celebrate, and the lessons we've learned along the way.
The Creative Boom Podcast has always been about one simple thing: uncovering the creative life. I host these conversations because I'm genuinely curious about how people build fulfilling, sustainable creative careers. Not the highlight reel; the whole messy, complicated, occasionally glorious reality.
It really feels like we've built something rather special over the past few years. Since 2020, we've created a space where honest conversation is valued over polished performance. Where vulnerability is seen as strength. Where saying "I don't know" or "I struggled" is just as important as sharing your successes.
And now, with James Cropper's support, we can keep doing exactly that.
Season 10 of The Creative Boom Podcast is here for you, wherever you get your podcasts. Whether you're commuting, working in your studio, walking the dog, or just need some company whilst doing the washing up, we'll be there. Sharing stories. Asking questions. Trying to make sense of this strange, wonderful thing we do for a living.
Thank you to James Cropper for believing in what we're building. Thank you to every guest who's given their time, honesty, and wisdom. And thank you to everyone who listens, shares, and supports this podcast. You're the reason we keep going.
Now, shall we get started?
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As the leaves turn and the world shifts towards winter, fresh typefaces can give you the inspiration you need to power through. Read on to discover our top picks.
Gosh, is that the time already? October has arrived with a confident energy, and the month's type releases reflect this sense of purpose and ambition. From architectural inspirations drawn from Danish modernism to pixel-based experiments that celebrate productive constraints, our selection demonstrates how foundries are pushing more boundaries than we've seen in some time.
One of the major themes for this type this month appears to be the tension between systematic construction and expressive character. Several new releases demonstrate how rigid structural principles〞whether geometric grids, historical references or modular systems〞can become launching points for distinctive personality rather than limitations.
Whether you're seeking a grotesque with genuine warmth, a display face that celebrates architectural monumentality, or a versatile family that seamlessly transitions between serif and sans-serif worlds, read on.
Designed by Do?ukan Karap?nar and ?brahim Ka?t?o?lu, Crit reinterprets early grotesque sans-serif models through contemporary sensibilities, creating an eight-weight family with matching italics that honours mid-century phototypesetting traditions whilst addressing modern design requirements.
The typeface draws inspiration from an era when foundries like Helvetica and Akzidenz-Grotesk were often used interchangeably in phototype layouts, embracing this functional flexibility whilst introducing subtle formal innovations. Crit's character emerges through careful attention to proportion〞a tall x-height combined with shorter ascenders and descenders creates tight, readable text that maintains clarity across applications.
As weights increase, counters shift toward squarer forms to prevent excessive weight accumulation, whilst ligatures appear strategically to aid readability. These quiet formal adjustments demonstrate how contemporary grotesque design can introduce character without sacrificing the neutrality that made their historical predecessors so versatile. The result is a steady, balanced typeface that functions as both a reliable workhorse and a distinctive voice.
Reinaldo Camejo's latest experimental typeface draws inspiration from Copenhagen's iconic Grundtvig's Church. Created during Reinaldo's Master's programme at ELISAVA, this experimental font takes distinctive elements from the church's dramatic west fa?ade〞its towering verticality, stepped gables, and arched doorways〞and translates them into geometric letterforms.
The typeface's character clearly emerges from this architectural DNA, with bold, geometric forms that echo the building's strong lines and monumental presence. But rather than attempting literal translation, Camejo has distilled the church's essential visual language into a cohesive typographic system that maintains both structural integrity and expressive power.
Since its initial release, Grundtvig has garnered international recognition, winning prestigious awards including ADG Laus, ADC*E Awards, and LAD Awards. Following its official release in collaboration with 6TM Magazine, Camejo has now developed a collection of physical specimens, including the award-winning original, a compact Mini version, an editorial Booklet, and even a keychain iteration.
Inspired by a photograph of an Italian road sign in Sardinia, Perfektta celebrates the beauty found in imperfection. Martin V芍cha's design began with fascination for a strange-looking zero, presumed to be the result either of Italian workers finding it difficult to cut perfect ovals from foil, or simply creative pragmatism.
This rhombus-shaped zero became the foundation for a sans-serif family with narrow proportions and visible stem contrast. Further inspiration came from Alfabeto Stretto, the Italian road sign typeface, which also has a strange-looking zero. The name, Martin says, refers to "the imperfect construction that contrasts with some perfect shapes"〞creating productive tension in the final aesthetic.
Martin V芍cha's Season addresses one of typography's most enduring challenges: the choice between sans-serif and serif typefaces. Rather than requiring designers to select between these fundamental categories, Season offers a unified construction that seamlessly transitions between both worlds through variable font technology.
The concept explores transformation as a creative methodology, presenting sans-serif metamorphosis as a design tool rather than a binary choice. Each "season" of the typeface maintains quality and character whilst occupying different positions along the serif spectrum, allowing designers to fine-tune typographic voice according to specific contextual requirements.
This approach reflects the contemporary movement in typography toward flexibility and contextual adaptation. By treating the serif/sans-serif distinction as a continuum rather than a boundary, Season enables more nuanced typographic decision-making, particularly valuable for brand systems requiring both authoritative serif presence and clean sans-serif functionality.
Designed by Samar Zureik and Hanna Donker, Pranzo positions itself as the ultimate comic book typeface, offering unprecedented flexibility through three extensive variable font axes that cover every conceivable narrative mood and visual emphasis. This isn't merely a display face with comic book applications, but a comprehensive typographic system built specifically for the unique demands of sequential art.
Pranzo's three variable axes create a vast design space: weight ranges from whispering Hairline to shouting Black, slant moves from subversive Backslant through to emphatic Italic, and width spans from high-speed ExtraCondensed to laid-back ExtraExtended. This systematic approach enables precise typographic voice modulation, allowing designers to match the intensity of letterforms to the narrative content.
The typeface includes essential comic book elements〞symbols, frames, speech balloons, and thought bubbles〞available across every weight and style combination. This integration demonstrates how contemporary type design can serve specific media requirements whilst maintaining broader applicability. Pranzo's character balances informality with confidence, expressiveness with clarity, creating a flexible yet coherent system that supports both traditional comic layouts and contemporary graphic design applications.
Franziska Hubmann's Jovie demonstrates how soft-serif design can achieve both warmth and elegance through thoughtful variable font implementation. The typeface features an extensive weight axis, ranging from Hairline to Black, positioning it as a versatile solution for projects that require both delicate text settings and bold display applications.
Jovie's character emerges through its soft-serif approach, which tempers traditional serif authority with contemporary approachability. Playful italics, expressive alternates, swashes, and ligatures provide designers with a rich typographic palette, whilst maintaining coherent family relationships across all variations.
The inclusion of a decorative Glow style in Regular to Black weights, complete with matching italics, extends Jovie's range into more experimental territory. Overall, Jovie succeeds in bridging text and display requirements, offering warmth and elegance across diverse design contexts whilst supporting over 790 languages for global application.
Arve B?tevik's LL Supreme presents neither revival nor redesign of Paul Renner's Futura, but rather a contemporary reframing of its fundamental concept: constructing sophisticated typography purely from straight lines and circular curves. This approach prioritises Renner's underlying principles over historical interpretation.
The project emerged from practical necessity when Cornel Windlin struggled to find suitable digital Futura versions for Vitra's communications. Rather than accepting compromised digital translations, Lineto developed its own interpretation, ultimately leading to Supreme's complete reconstruction from geometric first principles.
Each weight was drawn separately rather than interpolated, giving individual cuts distinct identities that respond to their specific formal challenges. This approach works against contemporary tendencies toward systematic interpolation, instead celebrating the unique characteristics that emerge when each weight receives dedicated attention. Historical stylistic alternates pay homage to Renner's original vision whilst serving contemporary digital requirements.
Building on the legacy of the Lintel typeface, which was featured in the video game Mafia III, Lintel Next draws architectural inspiration from Finnish designer Alvar Aalto. It's intended as a commercial workhorse that maintains cultural and technological adaptability whilst communicating stories with clarity and heart.
Following 18 months of development, led by Tasos Varipatis, every character of the original Lintel has been redrawn for improved consistency and readability. The family now includes five additional widths〞Compressed through Extended〞with 12 intermediate layers ensuring seamless transitions without distortion of the distinctive pill-shaped curves and carefully proportioned letterforms.
Supporting 1,222 characters per style with extensive OpenType features and support for Greek and Vietnamese languages, Lintel Next does an excellent job of balancing geometric precision with human-centred warmth. A good choice for branding, editorial or UI design.
Symbiotic Relationship
Everything this New Orleans artist creates seems to have a special aura about it. We decided to find out more about his creative thinking.
Originally from China, Hoi Chan graduated from the School of Visual Arts in New York in 2016 and relocated to New Orleans during the COVID-19 pandemic. We featured him here on Creative Boom around that time, when he was creating artworks focusing on human connections. In 2025, his portfolio has shifted to a whole new level with imagery that handles light, colour and translucency uniquely. It's full of beautiful, emotive artworks that seem to float up out of the screen (or off the page) and drift into the ether.
"After moving to New Orleans, with its abundant rainfall and vibrant natural landscapes, I started exploring fuller, rounder shapes, inspired by the humid environment where even the breeze feels heavy," explains Hoi. "I also love marine creatures. They often have fascinating colour combinations that are both vibrant and delicate, and they're a big source of inspiration for me."
His image, 'Symbiotic Relationship' (above) 每 which began as an editorial sketch but evolved into a personal piece 每 is full of vibrant aquatic colours. "I used natural forms as metaphors for ourselves," says Hoi. "In this case, the relationship between a clownfish and a sea anemone expresses mutual reliance."
Bioluminescence
Night Breeze
When ideas for commercial projects don't pan out, Hoi holds onto them and they become fertile ground as he develops his style, attempts new techniques and applies his own thinking to the original theme. In Night Breeze, he explored colourways that were new to him, again taking inspiration from the world under the sea.
"The story was about human emotions, so I created waves that embrace the figure, almost squeezing it in the centre. At first, I tried warm colours 每 pinks, peaches 每 but they felt too heavy since the shapes were already abundant. Eventually, I drew inspiration from the iridescence of a seashell and built the final palette from there."
Auspicious Elements main piece
Library of Soil for Vox
While he applies high-energy colours and carefully crafts a glowing, ethereal quality in each illustration, behind every piece, Hoi aims to be as honest as possible. He wants to capture and share authentic feelings, ones that the viewer can experience through his art.
"My work often revolves around the relationship between individuals and the world 每 how we position ourselves within it, how we seek peace within ourselves and how we keep moving forward. That's why many of my figures are depicted alone," he says.
For example, you might sense the poignancy of an image like Bioluminescence. The artwork was inspired by the death of someone Hoi knew. Once again, deep-sea creatures serve as a metaphor for our existence 每 existing under immense pressure yet still maintaining their shape and glow.
Dry January for the New York Times
Engineering Crits for Figma
Hoi uses textures from the natural world throughout his work 每 rocks, wood, other found surfaces 每 scanning and photographing them. They're often very subtle within a piece but will serve to ground it. All his colouring is fine-tuned in Photoshop.
Many of Hoi's clients are drawn to his distinctive personal work and support his desire to incorporate elements of the natural world into their projects. Creating imagery relating to AI for The New York Times and its magazine insert, Hoi enjoys using organic forms to define technological concepts.
Heart element
Water element
Meanwhile, to create his own website, he drew inspiration from his upbringing in Hong Kong and collaborated with a feng shui consultant to organise the content and create a unique user experience under the heading 'Auspicious Elements'. "For example, the landing page became the entrance, while my info page was the bedroom. Following her advice, I created spot illustrations with auspicious meanings and placed them throughout the site, much like we place symbolic objects in a home to create harmony."
In future, Hoi would love to bring more of his works to life with animation, and he'd also like to create a zine or book, drawing on his old sketchbooks and developing ideas within them.
Bird element
Wood element
From illustrated travel journals and reimagined wine branding to experimental festival identities, these are the projects that caught our eye last month.
Every month brings with it a flood of new creative work. Some are loud and attention-grabbing, while others are quietly brilliant yet equally impactful. This round-up is our way of spotlighting the projects that made us pause, scroll back, and think a little deeper about what's happening across design right now.
In September, we saw personal journeys transformed into illustrated diaries, a hot sauce brand balancing heritage with modern flair, and a new approach to online fashion search. There was also a playful wine identity and a reimagined festival brand that pulses with energy. Together, they show the breadth of what creativity looks like today, spanning the commercial, the cultural, and the deeply personal.
Berlin, Prague, Vienna, Trieste, Rijeka, Rab. A family rail trip through Europe might sound like the perfect chance to disconnect from 'work', but for graphic designer and illustrator Falko Grentrup it became something of an illustrated travel diary. Over the summer, he set off from Stockholm with his family, heading slowly south towards the Croatian coast. At every stop, he produced a drawing that merged photography with illustration, creating playful vignettes where characters seemed to take on lives of their own.
The result is Drawn Across Europe, a visual series that straddles sketchbook intimacy and polished storytelling. Each city takes on a distinct character, whether that's through architectural details or surreal juxtapositions of figure and place. Falko's hybrid approach 每 blending his photos with hand-rendered drawings 每 lends the series a diary-like quality, while also introducing something more experimental.
He describes the project as "a playful way of documenting the trip," and that joy is evident in the lightness of the characters and the way they blend seamlessly into urban backdrops. It's a reminder that travel isn't only about ticking destinations off a list, but also about the little impressions and stories that linger long after you've unpacked.
Wine branding often swings between two extremes: dusty heritage or self-conscious minimalism. Goodside's work for DirtyVine finds a fresher middle ground. DirtyVine positions itself as a community for those who value simple ingredients and sustainable farming. Goodside developed the brand from the ground up, with strategy, identity, packaging, website and more all designed to feel rebellious but accessible.
At the heart of the brand is the idea of Bottled Sunshine, which manifests through vibrant colours, loose and imperfect illustrations, and a tone of voice that swaps pretension for quick wit. Typography feels relaxed, while Jessica Hische's hand-drawn wordmark anchors the whole identity in craft. Even the packaging leans into unpolished joy, making unboxing part of the brand's playful ritual.
There's a natural ease to the world Goodside has built. It's modern, yes, but rooted in soil and sun rather than tech gloss. The collaboration with Baggy Studio on the digital side extends this ethos, creating a site that flows as simply as a conversation over a glass of wine. DirtyVine feels like a brand designed to be lived with, not just consumed, which is another level of consideration altogether.
Designer Morgan Hastie has taken inspiration straight from Mexico's ancient past for his work on Cal谷nton Hot Sauce. The brand's packaging draws on the carvings, ruins and bold symbology he encountered during travels earlier this year. These references shape the illustration style and typographic choices, creating an identity that feels deeply connected to heritage while still looking unmistakably contemporary.
The bottles themselves are sleek and minimal, but the die-cut labels and high-contrast colour palette push them into a more experimental space. Neon greens and fiery reds sit against graphic black details, creating a balance of tradition and modernity that feels perfectly pitched for younger audiences. The design system is clearly premium, yet expressive without being sterile and without tipping into clich谷.
Morgan notes that the project was about "experimenting to bring those little elements of traditional art style into the modern design layout." That experimentation has clearly paid off. For a category crowded with cartoon chillies and flames, Cal谷nton feels both grown-up and playful 每 a brand that celebrates heritage without freezing it in time.
Scrolling through endless e-commerce search results is one of the least inspiring parts of shopping online. Hey Savi, a new fashion search engine, aims to fix that by making product discovery as intuitive as Shazam or Spotify. Built on AI-powered image recognition, the platform offers seamless, brand-agnostic recommendations tailored to what users actually want to wear.
YeahNice's role was to translate that promise into a visual identity and launch campaign that felt fresh but also accessible. They kept the brand centred on the user, designing a conversational system rooted in the distinctive 'speech bubble' device. This motif pops up across digital and campaign assets, grounding the AI-powered technology in something human and familiar.
The team also produced a punchy sizzle film that walks users through the product in four steps 每 "Snap. Search. Buy. Wear." 每 showing how quickly inspiration can turn into reality. Paired with smart storytelling and restrained motion graphics, the whole identity avoids the trap of overexplaining. Instead, it feels useful, elegant, and refreshingly humble for a tech product. In a market full of shopping platforms shouting about features, Hey Savi's understated clarity will definitely make it memorable.
What does an EDM festival identity look like when stripped back to its origins? For New York每based designer Ipshita Krishan, the answer was found in the very thing that gave Asia's largest dance event its name: the heat of bodies in motion. The Sunburn Project, a self-initiated rebrand of India's Sunburn Festival, channels the blistering energy of all-night beach parties into a system of visual patterns and type.
Ipshita took literal sunburn marks as her cue, translating them into graphic gradients and textures. Combined with a palette of infrared-inspired reds and oranges, the visuals seem to radiate warmth and intensity, echoing the thermal glow of a packed crowd. Typography grounds the identity in gothic serif forms 每 a deliberate contrast to the sleek, modernist styles often seen in music branding. Elongated serifs, tight kerning and alternate characters inject movement into the letterforms, giving even static words the pulse of a bassline.
Although conceptual, the project is a striking demonstration of how cultural history and visual experimentation can merge. By using the body itself as inspiration, Ipshita reframes festival branding not as decoration but as visceral experience. It's a bold reminder that some of the most compelling work occurs when designers set their own briefs and take risks beyond client expectations.
]]>The Berlin-based design consultancy combines world-class ballet with cutting-edge digital artistry to create a serene, beautiful experience.
If you're feeling a bit overwhelmed by the relentless march of AI into every corner of creative work, you're not alone. It seems like every week brings another tool promising to revolutionise how we make art, design brands, or tell stories.
But what if the real revolution isn't about embracing more technology〞what if it's about remembering what makes us fundamentally human?
That's exactly the question Berlin's Kenza is answering with their latest project. And honestly, it's refreshing to see a company take such a bold stance. Their stunning film, Poetry of Mindful Motion, represents something we're seeing far too little of these days: a celebration of pure human artistry, enhanced by technology rather than replaced by it.
Founded in 2018, Kenza has quietly been building something special. They're not your typical design consultancy, though they've certainly mastered the technical side of things, with expertise in Web 4.0, metaverse environments, and advanced technology integration. But their latest venture reveals something deeper: a company that genuinely understands the soul of creativity.
The heart of their cultural project is a collaboration that sounds almost too good to be true. David Motta Soares, principal dancer at Staatsballett Berlin and formerly the youngest foreign principal dancer at Moscow's legendary Bolshoi Theatre, has been transformed into a digital character with breathtaking fidelity. We're talking about capturing every subtle finger movement, every powerful leap, the kind of artistry that takes decades to master.
Creative collaborators Nusi Borovac and Tim Jockel and team haven't just created a technical showcase here. They've crafted something that feels deeply personal, even spiritual. And they've done it all without a single drop of AI assistance. In 2025, that's not just a creative choice; it's a manifesto.
Let's be honest; we've all felt that slight unease watching AI-generated art flood social media feeds. Something is missing, isn't there? That indefinable quality that comes from human experience, years of training, and the vulnerability of putting yourself into your work. Kenza seems to understand this instinctively.
Their decision to avoid AI for this particular project feels both revolutionary and deeply necessary. "In a world marked by uncertainty and division," they explain, their vision is "to create a transcendent artistic experience" that weaves together human elements〞ballet, poetry, craftsmanship〞using tech as a tool rather than a crutch.
And they're not just talking about it; they're living it. Every element of this project represents what they call "pure human artistic vision and technical expertise". For those of us watching the creative landscape shift beneath our feet, this feels like someone throwing us a lifeline.
The artistic foundation draws from Garden of Soul, a collection of work by the 13th-century Persian poet Rumi. If you're thinking that sounds a bit lofty, you're not wrong. But skillfully, Kenza makes it work. Set against a mesmerising desert landscape, Soares' performance follows Rumi's invitation to "wash your wings from the earth's clay and follow the trail of those before you."
What could have been pretentious, though, becomes profound through careful choreography. The journey unfolds in sequences that feel both ancient and utterly contemporary: initial resistance is shown through tense, earthbound movements; surrender comes as the dancer breaks free from invisible constraints; the washing away of earthly attachments is achieved through fluid gestures; and finally, a rush toward enlightenment is marked by powerful leaps and sweeping momentum.
It's the kind of work that reminds you why humans started making art in the first place. Not to show off technical prowess but to make sense of existence. To find meaning in movement. To connect with something larger than ourselves.
For creative professionals, Kenza's approach offers something we desperately need right now: perspective. They've shown us that sophisticated technology can amplify human expression rather than replace it. That's not just good news〞it's essential news for anyone wondering how to navigate this strange new world where machines can paint, write and design.
Their journey mirrors what many of us are experiencing. Starting with avatar design in 2015, they've explored web3, blockchain, and metaverse platforms〞all the buzzy tech that's promised to change everything. But their latest project shows a mature understanding of when to embrace innovation and when to step back and remember what matters most.
The company's broader portfolio spans global transformation projects for market leaders, scientific publications and cutting-edge 3D branding. But it's this cultural work that reveals their true vision: technology serving humanity, not the other way around.
There's something particularly meaningful about grounding this high-tech project in Rumi's 13th-century wisdom and the cultural heritage of North Africa and the Middle East. In our fractured, fast-moving world, Kenza suggests that ancient wisdom and contemporary tech can create something genuinely healing.
This isn't just cultural decoration〞it's integral to what makes the project work. By connecting to something timeless, they've created art that transcends the typical tech demo. It becomes what they describe as "a transformative journey celebrating revelation, freedom, spirit, and oneness."
The experience will be brought to life in a large-scale immersive exhibition for its world premiere, offering audiences a transformative multisensory journey. And we can't wait to see it and see people's reactions. Meanwhile, Kenza is already working on Poetry of Mindful Motion Part 2, which features more dancers, expanded choreography, and enhanced immersive technologies.
For those of us trying to make sense of where creativity is heading, Kenza offers hope. They've proven that the most profound digital experiences still require the most fundamentally human elements: intuition, cultural knowledge, emotional depth, and the kind of artistic vision that emerges from lived experience rather than algorithmic processing.
In a world that often feels like it's moving too fast, losing touch with what makes us human, Kenza's work feels like a gentle reminder: we don't have to choose between innovation and humanity. We can have both as long as we remember what we're really trying to accomplish.
A sun-drenched takeover at The Standard's Casa Privada saw Estrid and OMSE build a fictional club complete with bold graphics, custom merch and curated events 每 a playful, week-long experiment in turning brand values into real-world connections.
Swedish razor brand Estrid has always done things differently. Built on a mission of body confidence for all (praise be), it has grown a fiercely loyal community that champions self-expression over airbrushed ideals. So when it came to its summer brand activation, a standard product launch was never going to be on the cards.
Instead, Estrid joined forces with London design studio OMSE 每 with creative directors James Kape and Pedro Messias, alongside designers Judzia Wynn, Kat High and Kir Nazarov, account manager Vanessa Pike, and photographers at Handover 每 to create Estrid's Realm: a week-long takeover of Casa Privada, the private villa at The Standard hotel in Ibiza.
From Estrid's side, the project was steered by creative director Emilia Kape, with account management from Sarah Cottingham, and photography by Meghan Matthews and Emilia Kape herself. Together, the teams dreamt up a fictional club where "self-expression ruled", then invited the community to step inside.
Drawing inspiration from the island's legendary nightlife, OMSE created a bold visual world that straddles the line between fantasy and reality. There's striking typography, playful graphics, and a sun-baked palette of lilac, peach, and sea green, and it's wrapped around every surface of the villa. Custom signage, pool floats, embroidered towels, limited-edition merch... all carried the Realm's cheeky personality, captured throughout the week by the team's photographers.
"Estrid has never been about selling razors," says OMSE. "It's about creating moments where people feel free to be themselves. Ibiza gave us the perfect stage."
Rather than a media-heavy press junket, the Realm welcomed small rotating groups of Estrid fans, creators and friends. Each guest experienced curated events, late-night gatherings and those quintessential Ibiza sunsets. The goal wasn't to broadcast a campaign, but to create stories worth sharing.
It worked. Across a single week, the activation generated over 542 social posts, reached more than 5 million people and delivered an estimated ?2.4 million in earned media value 每 all driven by organic buzz rather than traditional ads.
For OMSE, the project shows how design can stretch far beyond logos and packaging. "When you give a brand a physical space, even temporarily, you invite your audience to play a role," says Kape. "That's where real connection happens."
Estrid's Realm might have existed for just seven days, but its impact will linger. During a time where audiences can spot a sales pitch a mile off, it's proof that the most powerful marketing is the kind that feels more like an exclusive invitation.
Immerse yourself in a surreal world of dogs and cats, pottery and painting, with a great hand-drawn animated film at its heart.
If you're in London between now and 4 November and need a jolt of inspiration, why not swing by the Pocko Gallery at 51A King Henry's Walk to take in Qian-Hui Yu's solo exhibition, The Delightful Unnamed? The Chinese animator, now based in Stoke-on-Trent, has assembled a collection of artworks that connect various threads in her creativity, ideas and inspiration.
The centrepiece is her recent animation, 'The Statue in the Garden', a short film created with Animate Projects and supported by the BFI Network and Film Hub Midlands, which has been touring film festivals across the UK and around the world. It's the perfect way to acquaint yourself with Qian's hand-drawn, frame-by-frame animation style 每 a look that's individual to the artist and perfect for the personal nature of the story.
"The story is rooted in my own experience after I moved to Stoke-on-Trent," says Qian. "I didn't know anyone at the time, so I wrote this story, and in it, the main character ends up travelling through time. Researching the scenes helped me to understand the history of Stoke, and how the character was able to deal with her own fears also helped me to find a sense of belonging in my new surroundings, in a way."
Guests enjoying the screening the private view.
The story of the Potteries comes to the fore via a little statue of a dog. While developing the story and aesthetic for her film, Qian actually sculpted the dog, which was based on one in the British Museum that had come to this country as a gift from one of the Han emperors in China.
"I remade this dog in my home studio and had it fired in an Anagama wood-fired kiln in Oxford," says Qian. "I find ceramics fills the gap in my creativity that animation can't. Both are made by hand, but ceramics are something I can make in real life. It teaches me many things 每 that making art can be practical, experimental, organic, quiet but expressive."
The pottery connection continues with a series of mixed-media works created during Qian's residency at ACAVA Spode, the historic pottery factory in Stoke. These include collage and ink paintings. "I was exploring new materials and wanted to focus more on graphic design before making them into animations. They are all very experimental, and I hope they can help reshape my visual language in general," says Qian.
Throughout the posters, prints, illustrations and collage work, you may notice a recurring character. Qian loves drawing cats, and most of the cats she creates are based on her own pet Chuko. "She is the queen of my family," says Qian. "When I want to test a new technique or just draw for practice, I open my photo album, and Chuko always comes to the top. She's my natural model and my precious friend."
The Statue in the Garden, Qian's Stoke-on-Trent explorations and all the related artworks have helped fire Qian's creativity across a variety of projects over the last year or so. Watch out for her bag collection, a book cover illustration, and some soon-to-be-revealed artist collaborations. The Statue in the Garden is also set to feature at the London International Animation Festival 2025, taking place 25 November to 7 December at venues in the city and online.
Image licensed via Adobe Stock
Self-promotion doesn't have to make you feel sleazy. Here's how to share your work with those who matter, without ever feeling cringe about it.
Ah, self-promotion. That horrible mix of nerves, awkwardness and mild nausea that strikes whenever you hover over the 'post' button. Yes, you've poured heart and soul into your work. Yes, you're proud of what you've made. But the thought of sharing it online feels like standing in front of a crowd at a bus stop and yelling, "LOOK AT MY THING!".
Here's the thing, though. For creatives who want to succeed in the 2020s, self-promotion is unavoidable. However good your portfolio website is, clients aren't going to magically stumble across it, and word-of-mouth can only carry you so far.
Yet there's no need to stress. Promoting yourself doesn't have to feel like selling double-glazing door-to-door. In fact, done right, it can even be fun.
To help you reach that point, we spoke with the Creative Boom community about how they personally approach the art of self-promotion. We share their best tips below, and you can also read the full discussion on our own private network The Studio. (Not joined The Studio yet? Do it now: it's free!)
Terrified by the idea of self-promotion? Designer Kultar Ruprai feels your pain. "This is a constant battle for me," he says. "I'm very much an under-the-radar, let my work speak for itself, type. With all the noise out there, I feel overwhelmed, and that puts me off even more. But I have to remind myself to step out of my comfort zone and add my 2p amongst all the noise. Who knows, someone might agree, or spark a debate. You've got to be in the race, instead of watching from the sidelines."
Creative Andy Culbert tells a similar story. "Self-promotion has never sat comfortably with me," he admits. "It always left me with that sick feeling in my mouth. Perhaps it's my upbringing, or perhaps it's growing up in Manchester, where you're taught to keep your head down and work hard. But the truth is, it's mostly in my head, and probably in a lot of our heads. We overthink it far more than we need to. What really matters is showing up. Speaking up isn't bragging. It's just sharing a bit of yourself and letting people know you're here. Life's too short to worry."
Traditionally, sales and marketing have been stereotyped as conniving and deceitful. But when it comes to self-promotion, graphic designer Pearse O'Halloran pursues the exact opposite. "My golden rule is honesty, plain and simple," he explains. "Your marketing should reflect how you talk to your friends about what you love about your job. When freelance designers go all 'Bizness' spiel, it's not just cringe but feels disingenuous and does your brand a disservice."
Illustrator Annie McGee agrees that self-promotion needn't be about the hard sell. "For me, it's more about leaving creative breadcrumbs," she says. "Tiny and honest posts build trust far faster than one giant shout. So I post messy desk shots, sketchbook sneak peeks, and the ups with the downs, because that represents true life as a creative freelancer."
Not sure what to post? Designer and illustrator Neal McCullough keeps things simple: he posts things he's proud of. "Promoting yourself as an illustrator never really feels too spammy," he reasons. "You're sharing colourful, fun stuff that usually raises a smile anyway. I share my work on social media because I'm genuinely excited for my friends, clients and colleagues to see what else I'm working on. If that leads to more work, that's a bonus."
For Adrian Carroll, creative director and co-founder at D8, another key aspect is posting regularly. As he puts it: "We just try to be consistent, and aim to share one piece of work a week. Sometimes it's big, sometimes it's small; it's just about being regular, to keep the level of awareness high over time."
Copywriter Denise Strohsahl agrees, and suggests you strive to make posting a habit. "Set aside time every month, or fortnight, to write those posts and schedule them," she advises. "Make it part of your routine, just like doing your taxes or sending invoices."
Lack confidence? Illustrator Jacqueline Colley has found a neat hack to give herself a boost. "I started a fake persona of a work self, and I act like it's my job to promote this person, which of course it is!" she says. "This trick helps it not be about me but my work and what 'Jacqueline' is up to. It possibly helps that I mostly go by Jacquie to my friends."
Self-promotion might sound like a lot of work. But multimedia creative Eve Macdonald reframes it as play. "If you feel cringe about posting, the trick is just to talk about things you're passionate about, with other people who care about the same stuff," she explains. "If you think of it more like show-and-tell, it suddenly feels less icky and more fun."
Eve also recommends problem-solving as self-promo. For example, her Leeds Creative Calendar started as a personal tool but soon evolved into a way to connect with the community. Sometimes your side project is your marketing.
And if cringe strikes? Eve suggests you: "Ask yourself whether you remember the last LinkedIn or Instagram post you scrolled past. Most of the time, you can't. So if something you post feels cringe, no one will remember anyway! A little nihilistic, but honestly, pretty comforting."
In the UK, we're often brought up to hide our light under a bushel. But if you want to make it as a creative, you have to do the opposite. And creative director Erick Ortega has purposefully learned to train himself out of modesty.
"One thing that shifted it for me was an interview by Tyler, the Creator," he recalls. "He talked about how it is lame to not feel proud and excited when we've invested a lot of time, effort and even money to get an idea formed, executed, finished and released. It's part of the process to put yourself out there and make people aware of your presence.
Erick's top tips? "Don't assume everyone is watching and knows all about your life updates," he says. "Go beyond just an Instagram Story post. And be proud of yourself."
So there you have it: marketing doesn't need to feel gross. If you focus on honesty, joy and connection, self-promotion stops being cringe; it just becomes part of being a creative. Aaron Becker, designer at Gestalt Werks, puts it simply. "Self-promotion simply means talking about your services with confidence," he says. "It's uncomfortable at first, but with time, practice and humility, you will come off as genuine."
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The London agency has reworked the cult bean brand's packaging and identity with a "simplified to amplify" approach, creating a stronger, more navigable system that celebrates imperfection while scaling for mainstream growth.
Bold Bean has been a challenger favourite since it landed on shelves in 2021. The brand showed that tins and jars of beans could be glossy, foodie, and proudly premium, not just functional.
The company has experienced considerable positive momentum over the last few years; however, its visual identity has struggled to keep pace. Bold Bean had cult appeal, yet in the crowded canned and antipasti aisles, it lacked presence. White Bear was brought on to rethink its identity and help it grow from niche darling into a confident, mainstream contender without losing its grassroots charm.
Kelly Mackenzie, co-founder of White Bear, explains the early challenge: "On shelf, one, they were difficult to find because the amount of shelf presence that they had versus the competitors wasn't that large.
"And two, once you actually identified where the brand was, which was quite hard because the logo was quite small, the challenge was that it was very difficult to tell between the SKU ranges."
Colour clashes also made things difficult, with repeated reds, purples and oranges across different beans blurring distinctions. Organic jars weren't immediately identifiable, and even the much-hyped Queen Bean 每 the bigger, rarer bean that justified a higher price 每 lacked obvious visual cues.
White Bear's answer was a mantra that guided the entire redesign: simplify to amplify.
"There was just so much clutter on the front of the pack that it made it very difficult for a consumer to go on that normal journey of looking at the pack top left to bottom right, seeing what's the most important information that I need," Kelly says. "So we stripped out everything that wasn't absolutely essential# simplified to amplify became our mantra."
This produced a cleaner, bolder hierarchy as well as a logo larger in scale, taking centre stage in solid black rather than its previous outline form. This switch not only improves legibility but also gives the brand a punchier, more assertive presence.
Information that was once scattered across the jar is now organised into a clear system, featuring a white border at the bottom that displays the SKU name in stark black type. Organic beans are unified under a green label, while a new gold ribbon signals the Queen Bean. Together, these moves provide shoppers with visual shortcuts that they can decode in seconds.
Scaling up doesn't always sit easily with a brand rooted in grassroots energy. Bold Bean's "bean champs" 每 its loyal fans 每 were fiercely attached to its quirks, and White Bear didn't want to alienate them.
"Firstly, it was the logo. We didn't want to reinvent the wheel in any way. People loved the logo and loved the brand. So what we wanted to do was amplify it," Kelly says. The solution was evolution, not revolution, which meant retaining the much-loved rich, foodie tones of the original packs, keeping SKU colours consistent for recognition, and amplifying rather than rewriting the brand mark.
The tension between credibility and scale also informed the textures and hand-drawn elements that appear throughout the system. Each bean now has its own illustrated pattern, bringing differentiation while staying true to Bold Bean's imperfect, human personality.
One of the more playful decisions was to rethink the lid. Kelly explains: "When we were working on the project, we noticed that there's a bit of a sea of sameness, firstly in the canned aisle, also in the antipasti aisle, where everything looks# quite staid, quite kind of heritage or legacy.
"We really wanted to shake that up and brighten it up by owning a colour," Kelly explains.
That colour is yellow, drawn from Bold Bean's existing palette but now splashed unapologetically across every lid. The agency describes it as a "ray of sunshine" cutting through the aisle, creating an instant navigation shortcut while cementing a brand asset that can stretch far beyond packaging.
White Bear's work extended beyond the jars themselves. The goal was to establish an identity that is flexible enough for cookbooks, social campaigns, retail displays, and more.
The new toolkit includes the imperfect gold ribbon, which Kelly describes as "a little bit wonky" by design. It can be deployed across everything from packaging to PowerPoint slides, maintaining consistency while giving Bold Bean its own distinctive signal.
Other assets include playful illustrations in a charcoal-and-pen style, reminiscent of the doodles found in the margins of cookbooks. They inject personality and remind consumers of the brand's grassroots energy. The bean patterns, meanwhile, offer a modular visual language that can be expanded across multiple touchpoints.
"All of this was about creating a brand-first system," Kelly says. "We wanted to make sure in this fractured world where brands operate on so many different channels# that the brand is consistent, cohesive and familiar at every touch point."
It's early days for the redesign, and the new packs are yet to roll out fully in retail. For now, social media has become the testing ground, and feedback has been overwhelmingly positive.
That reaction suggests White Bear has managed a delicate balancing act of stripping back noise while preserving the quirks that fans loved. The result is an identity that feels louder, prouder and easier to shop, without losing the flavour of the brand's early days.
In Kelly's words, "Let's only use what is essential, in order to really make a fundamental difference to how people can shop the range."
Bold Bean now has the toolkit to move beyond cult status, bringing beans into the mainstream in a way that still feels personal, imperfect and true to the name.
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All images ? Jesse Zuefle
Twenty years on from Hurricane Katrina, Jesse Zuefle tells the full story of the famous street artist's mysterious visit.
In the summer of 2008, the world's most enigmatic street artist slipped into New Orleans like a ghost. Three years after Hurricane Katrina devastated the city, commonly known as NOLA or The Big Easy, Banksy left behind 17 murals: a visceral commentary on government failure and human resilience. Now, NOLA RAIN: The New Orleans Banksy Story, by Jesse Zuefle, offers the most comprehensive account yet of this iconic intervention.
Jesse, who operates under the street art pseudonym Banksy Hates Me, brings unique credentials to this project. For over a decade, he served as self-appointed guardian of Banksy's Umbrella Girl mural, replacing protective plastic sheeting and cleaning off vandalism. This role set him up perfectly to unravel the complex web of stories surrounding Banksy's Louisiana adventure.
The book arrives at a particularly poignant moment. As I explained in last month's article The unlikely story of how Banksy's artwork took root in New Orleans, the fate of these pieces has been as dramatic as their creation. From Ronnie Fredericks' midnight rescue of Boy on a Life Preserver Swing to Sean Cummings's elaborate restoration involving Italian chemistry breakthroughs, the afterlife of Banksy's New Orleans work reads like a thriller.
Sifting the truth from the myth, though, isn't always easy. And with refreshing honesty, the author admits upfront: "The stories you will read in this book are often hearsay. Due to the natural mystery of all things Banksy-related, verifying nearly anything has been close to impossible."
What's not in question, of course, is how devastated the city was by the disaster. The Lower Ninth Ward, where several pieces appeared, was among the areas worst hit by Katrina's flooding, and this predominantly African American neighbourhood became a symbol of both government abandonment and community resilience. Treme, where Boy with Trumpet was discovered, is one of America's oldest African American neighbourhoods and the birthplace of jazz; cultural details that underscore the symbolic weight of Banksy's chosen locations.
But more than anything else, it's Jesse's decade-long stewardship of the Umbrella Girl that provides the book's emotional core. His maintenance duties〞cleaning everything from graffiti tags to human waste from the protective covering〞reveal the gritty reality of preserving street art. It was a role that connected him, he notes, with "land owners, police, tourists, the homeless, art lovers, neighbours, and nosy people"; a true cross-section of New Orleans society that enriches his storytelling.
A 54-year-old Buffalo native, Jesse originally fell in love with the city's "architecture and arty vibe" during a 1999 visit. In 2011, he bought a house in the Marigny neighbourhood and began creating his own Banksy-inspired stencil work. His pseudonym emerged from a desire to distinguish his tribute pieces from potential counterfeits. Again, it's a refreshingly honest approach in a field often clouded by opportunistic imitators.
Jesse's book is packed full of intriguing detail and fascinating discoveries that will intrigue seasoned Banksy watchers. For instance, he investigates the stories behind three portraits of Abraham Lincoln that Banksy allegedly gave as gratuities to local helpers, as well as exploring the curious tale of a panel van that crashed into the building housing the Umbrella Girl; possibly in an attempt to destroy the artwork.
Most dramatically, Jesse tracks down the long-lost Boy with Trumpet piece. According to his investigation, two New York collectors flew to New Orleans in 2008 specifically to acquire a Banksy work. They allegedly pried the painting from the clapboard siding of a Treme house and transported it to Manhattan. When Jesse finally located the piece in 2024, the owners insisted he be blindfolded and surrender his phone before viewing it.
All of this drama connects to broader questions about ownership and preservation. When hotelier Sean Cummings invested significant resources in restoring Boy on a Life Preserver Swing, he framed it as preserving "public good", making the work accessible in his hotel lobby. The contrast with this approach and the secrecy of other collectors highlights the tension between commercial exploitation and cultural stewardship.
Publishing NOLA RAIN to coincide with Katrina's 20th anniversary adds historical weight to Jesse's project. Three years after the disaster, Banksy's 2008 visit came during a crucial period in New Orleans' recovery, when the initial emergency response had given way to the complex work of rebuilding communities. Banksy's murals served as both artistic commentary and an international attention grabber, forcing viewers to confront ongoing struggles largely overlooked in mainstream media coverage.
Most of the original works have now disappeared due to vandalism, demolition, or removal, making Jesse's photographic documentation invaluable. This visual record becomes especially poignant considering that, as Jesse explains, no New Orleans Banksys survive in their original states or locations.
More broadly, this chronicle captures a pivotal moment in the evolution of street art from a subculture to a mainstream cultural force. Banksy's New Orleans sojourn reveals a chapter that's had scant attention on this side of the Atlantic. But for New Orleans, a city where culture serves as both an economic engine and spiritual sustenance, these interventions represented both an artistic gift and a political challenge; a legacy now preserved through the dedication of one passionate fan.
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The award-winning author shares a practical guide to redefining goal setting and making real progress, tailored for creative professionals.
Did you know we have our own network for creatives, The Studio? It's free to join, and one of the benefits is the opportunity to participate in Studio Sessions, where industry experts share their insights directly from those shaping our creative landscape.
For instance, earlier this year we chatted with Rhea Freeman: a multi-award-winning PR adviser, social media expert, business coach, mentor, and author of the book You've Got This. Rhea's years supporting small businesses〞along with her own experiences as a podcaster, two-time TEDx speaker and regular broadcaster〞give her a uniquely practical perspective on how to set goals that truly stick.
Missed it? Then don't worry: we'll share some of the best tips from her talk below.
For Rhea, goal setting extends far beyond corporate bullet points and performance indicators. "A good goal has to be something you really want to do," she reasons. "Something that excites you and fires you up, not just what your friends or family think you should pursue. If you aren't genuinely motivated, you'll feel like you're slogging through mud, and the fire to keep going just isn't there."
Her central message, then, is to permit yourself to aim high. "I always encourage people to think big," she explains. "Because amazing things are possible if you have a plan and keep moving forward; even if it's just in tiny steps each day."
That said, clarity and specificity matter enormously. "It's not enough to say, 'I want more clients,'" she stresses. "Instead, try, 'I want six new clients by the end of next quarter.' Putting numbers and timeframes on things turns vague dreams into clear targets."
Broadly speaking, Rhea subscribes to the SMART goal-setting methodology, which stands for Specific, Measurable, Achievable (or Attainable), Relevant, and Time-bound. Importantly, though, she tweaks this ingredients list to suit a creative mindset. "I don't love every letter in SMART," she says. "But there's real value in asking yourself whether a goal is truly relevant to you, measurable in some way, and tied to a deadline."
Even long-term ambitions can be tackled in this way, she adds. "You won't achieve everything overnight, but if you know where you want to go, you can reverse-engineer the steps and plot your route."
Rhea is an evangelist for breaking big goals into practical chunks. "Even the scariest ambitions start with a small, simple action," she explains. "If you want to speak at a conference, don't focus on the stage straight away. Start by researching which events are relevant, who organises them, and what their process is. Write down every micro-action, rearrange them, and begin with the first one. Step by step, you'll get there."
For creative professionals battling overwhelm, this approach is especially crucial. "Treat it like planning a journey," she advises. "If you don't know the stops along the way, you'll never reach your destination. Breaking the big goal into micro goals means motivation stays high and progress can be celebrated. Every win, no matter how small, is worthwhile."
Rewarding every tiny achievement is central, too. "When I tick something off my to-do list, even if it's just a simple task, I reward myself: a cup of tea, five minutes outside, or just recognising that I did it. Small successes build the momentum you need for bigger ones."
Rhea warns that self-doubt is inevitable, especially in creative fields. But she advocates a gentle form of persistence. "If you feel stuck, go for a walk or shift your focus for a bit," she suggests. "Sometimes just showing up and doing the best you can is the win. Most people you see succeeding are only sharing their highlight reel; never their struggles. Stop comparing, and focus on your past self versus your present self."
She's adamant, too, that changing or adapting your goal never counts as failure. "Circumstances change, your ambitions grow or shift," says Rhea. "If you learn something along the way, the effort is never wasted. It's how you get closer to what you really want."
Rhea recognises, of course, that discipline and habit building are challenging for some people. "But you don't need to become super-disciplined overnight," she says. "Just start stacking small habits. Promise yourself to do one thing for your project before you open your emails in the morning. Over time, it becomes routine, and you realise you're putting real hours towards your craft or business without even noticing."
When it comes to organising, she's agnostic about the tools〞"Sticky notes, whiteboards, notebooks, apps, whatever works for you"〞as long as habits are tracked and progress is celebrated. "The system doesn't matter nearly as much as the regular acknowledgement of work done," she believes.
Importantly, Rhea champions a personal definition of success. "Don't get caught up in someone else's highlight reel," she urges. "Define success for yourself. It might mean having every Friday off, launching a new product, or achieving a specific revenue target. If it feels right for you, it matters."
Above all, be optimistic; achieving your goals is not only possible but probable if you go about it the right way. With clear plans, micro rewards and permission to adapt as you go, your dreams will come within reach. In Rhea's words: "You've got this. Truly."
Shot on 35mm film in the US and UK, OpenAI's new campaign follows different characters using ChatGPT to cook, learn, travel and reach personal goals〞an elegant piece of brand storytelling that shows AI slipping quietly into everyday life.
The world is changing fast, thanks to AI. So fast that many people don't yet realise how different life already is. OpenAI's first large-scale brand campaign, launched today, feels like the clearest indication yet that this shift is only accelerating.
The films, running in the United States, UK and Ireland, capture the small moments where ChatGPT lends a hand〞helping someone master a recipe, plan a trip, or finally manage a set of pull-ups. Each story is drawn from real prompts and framed as if the technology is simply another tool in the room. It's less about the product and more about the quiet satisfaction of accomplishing something.
OpenAI says the idea grew from the way people naturally use ChatGPT. Elke Karskens, the company's UK head of marketing, calls it "everyday magic". "Whether that's learning something new, reaching a fitness milestone or unlocking creativity," she says, "we want to show how it can help you do more of what matters to you."
The craft behind the new campaign is as considered as the message. Director Miles Jay shot the spots entirely on 35mm film, giving them a warmth and texture rarely seen in tech advertising. For out-of-home, accompanying photography by Samuel Bradley adds a documentary feel, from London's Old Street Roundabout to the wide streets of Los Angeles. Styling by Heidi Bivens adds a touch of fashion-editorial polish, while OpenAI's in-house team handled creative development in collaboration with the agency Isle of Any and production by SMUGGLER. Global media partner PHD is steering placements across primetime TV, streaming and landmark outdoor sites, including Piccadilly Lights, Manchester Arndale and central Dublin.
ChatGPT itself played a quiet supporting role, helping to organise shot lists and schedules〞a meta nod to the product's promise of making life easier. Even the films' soundtrack choices, from Perfume Genius's 'Fool' to Simple Minds' 'Someone, Somewhere (In Summertime)', lean towards timeless rather than futuristic.
The timing is pointed. ChatGPT's UK audience has quadrupled in the past year, and seven in ten UK users under 45 say AI helps them succeed in life. Earlier this year, OpenAI made a splash with its first Super Bowl ad; this new effort feels more intimate, aiming to build familiarity rather than spectacle.
It also follows a busy week for OpenAI, which just unveiled Pulse, a new feature designed to give ChatGPT a live, always-on sense of what's happening in the world. Pulse promises to keep conversations up to date without users needing to hunt for the latest news〞a move that edges the product further into daily habits and makes the brand push feel especially timely.
For creatives, the work serves as a beautifully shot reminder of how quickly AI is becoming an integral part of our culture. It doesn't shout about disruption. It instead looks to those human moments〞meals, milestones, small victories〞where technology is present but not the hero.
Jonathan Lloyd West's paintings freeze our obsession with digital scrolling
This annual event isn't just packed with creativity and fresh ideas. It's also a great showcase for how empty retail units and dying high streets can find new life as art spaces, bringing culture to the people.
Yesterday I took part in a press trip that intrigued and excited me in a way I haven't felt in a long time. Living in nearby Hartlepool, I'm painfully aware of how comparably underfunded the Teesside region is when it comes to arts grants. Yet there's an undeniable creative energy here that deserves recognition and support. The potential to build on what already exists feels enormous.
Middlesbrough Art Week (MAW), which has been running since 2017, was originally meant to centre around The Auxiliary: a new cultural centre near the station that will house over 25 artists' studios, a gallery and community spaces. But its construction has run behind schedule, so the organisers had to think differently and scatter the work across the town in unexpected places.
As a result, many of the exhibitions I enjoyed yesterday were held in disused retail units within the main shopping centre. This posed many challenges for the organisers, such as when they discovered the old TX Maxx had no electricity on the ground floor. But ultimately, they've pulled everything together beautifully.
And this has helped solidify something that's been brewing in my mind for a long time. That the future of art galleries lies in shopping malls, and vice versa.
Wandering through Middlesbrough's centre, you can't ignore what's happening across Britain's high streets. Shopping centres are emptying faster than we can count. Online shopping has gutted traditional retail, leaving behind vast, sterile spaces that once thrummed with commerce. And the appeal of obvious replacements, such as cafes, pubs, gyms and hairdressers, can only stretch so far. If I can get a decent coffee or haircut locally, why trek to the city centre?
But art? Art changes everything.
This converted TX Maxx is one of the hubs for Middlesbrough Art Week
Kitty McKay*s repurposed seats form a dysphoric collection of works that are as uncomfortable as they are familiar
The beguiling voice of Jessica guides us through Harton Moor Estate, a journey rendered as an otherworldly graphic landscape by Erin Dickson
Take the former B&M store in Dundas Arcade. Until recently, it was a cavernous wound in a dying shopping mall. It's now been transformed into In The Real, a group exhibition that felt alive in ways traditional galleries rarely achieve.
Jonathan Lloyd West's monumental paintings dominated the space, forcing us to confront our digital scrolling obsessions. The scale worked perfectly: these weren't precious objects demanding hushed reverence, but bold statements claiming their territory. Elsewhere, Kitty McKay's repurposed metro seats created an unsettling familiarity. Best of all, Erin Dickson's art film provided an entrancing take on a family life on a South Shields estate, via stark, otherworldly 3D models and landscapes.
But individual pieces aside, what struck me most was how natural it felt. Families who were out shopping casually wandered in, drawn by curiosity rather than cultural obligation. Children pointed and asked questions without being shushed. The usual gallery anxiety〞am I looking at this correctly? Do I understand?〞evaporated in this unpretentious environment.
Similarly, at 36 Albert Road, Andrea Hasler's piece Residual Echo transformed another empty retail unit into something viscerally powerful. Four life-sized wax figures, linked by gold chains and fabric resembling internal tissue, created a vision of family connection that, I have to be honest, would have felt oppressive in a white cube gallery.
Here, though, with shoppers passing outside the windows, the work breathed differently. The red carpet threshold between performance and vulnerability felt more urgent, more immediate.
Andrea Hasler*s Residual Echo explores the visceral tensions between attraction and repulsion, intimacy and exposure
Middlesbrough Art Week and Thirteen Group have collaborated to create chairs for art week inspired by Italian modernist artist and furniture designer Enzo Mari.
Apartheid Apartments, which satirises the Israeli-Palestinian war, is an an artwork disguised as an estate agency
For me, this was all about democratising access. No intimidating entrance procedures, no ?15 admission fees, no sense that you needed an art degree to participate. People simply walked in, engaged, and walked out changed.
This isn't about dumbing down culture or sacrificing artistic integrity. If anything, the work I saw yesterday demanded more from both artists and audiences. Without the protective cocoon of traditional gallery spaces, art must work harder to capture attention and communicate meaning. It must compete with the everyday chaos of urban life, and in doing so, becomes more robust, more essential.
Shopping centres offer something else crucial: infrastructure. Climate control, security, parking, and accessibility features that many smaller galleries struggle to provide. The bones of retail architecture〞wide corridors, flexible spaces, natural gathering points〞translate surprisingly well to exhibition use. Former department stores become vast installation spaces. Shop windows become vitrives for sculpture or video art.
The raw economic argument is compelling, too. Property owners facing mass retail exodus need new revenue streams. Artists and curators need affordable spaces. Local authorities want to revitalise dying town centres. It's a triangle of mutual benefit.
An early appearance for Liberty Hodes' Marge 2.0, a live art performance and window installation not taking place in a shopping centre shopfront
Zaeemah Bashir's art is part of the New Graduate Award: Make/Shift show
The Weapon & Wound show explores the contradictions of belonging and alienation
Don't get the wrong idea, though: Middlesbrough Art Week doesn't all take place in shops. One part of The Auxiliary is already open for business, and existing venues are joining in too, including the Town Hall, MIMA (Middlesbrough Institute of Modern Art), Pineapple Black Arts and Platform A Gallery.
The last of these, in case you didn't know, is actually housed within the train station, where it was founded in 2011 as an extension of Platform Art Studios. Entry is free, and you can pop in via Platform 1 while you wait for your connecting train. To me, this just reinforces how art can flourish in unexpected contexts. Commuters became accidental audiences, their journeys interrupted by moments of beauty and contemplation.
So here's my conclusion. As our high streets hollow out and our cultural institutions face funding crises, Britain needs new models that serve both commerce and creativity. Shopping centres could become the community hubs they always promised to be, just not in the way their original developers imagined.
Yesterday proved to me that culture doesn't need their permission to thrive. Sometimes the most radical act is simply putting extraordinary work in ordinary places, where ordinary people can discover it without fear or pretension.
The future isn't about choosing between high culture and popular accessibility. It's about finding new spaces where both can flourish together, transforming the failures of one system into the foundation for another. Yesterday in Middlesbrough, I glimpsed that future, and it looked surprisingly promising.
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? Daido Moriyama Photo Foundation
Am谷lie Ravalec's new book explores the under-reported movement that emerged from the atomic ashes to transform Japan's creative culture.
In the rubble of post-war Japan, the first nation in history to be scarred by nuclear conflict, a generation of artists emerged with an audacious mission: to tear open tradition and create something entirely unrecognisable. Now, for the first time in English, filmmaker and author Am谷lie Ravalec has captured this seismic cultural moment in Japan Art Revolution, a comprehensive exploration of the country's avant-garde movement from 1960 to 1979, published by Thames & Hudson.
This wasn't just another art movement; it was a complete rupture with the past. "This generation of artists had lived through the war as children," explains Am谷lie. "They'd watched their world burn, in the firebombings of Tokyo, in the ashes of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. There was no way to return to tradition after that. What they'd witnessed wasn't just devastation, it was the collapse of an entire worldview; a rupture so complete that nothing could be taken for granted any more."
? Thames & Hudson
? Yokoo Tadanori. Courtesy of Yokoo*s Circus Co.
? Yokoo Tadanori. Courtesy of Yokoo*s Circus Co.
The book features over 600 artworks spanning experimental photography, underground theatre, street performance, graphic design and the apocalyptic dance form known as Butoh. Icons like Moriyama Daido, Araki Nobuyoshi, Ishiuchi Miyako and Yokoo Tadanori sit alongside lesser-known artistic voices who challenged every convention of their time.
Am谷lie's journey into this largely unsung story began with a discovery a decade ago. "My entry point into this world was a strange and wonderful photobook by Terayama Sh迂ji called 'Phototh豕que imaginaire de la famille Chien-Dieu' [Imaginary photo library of the Chien-Dieu family]. I was blown away by it. The book felt like a riddle: filled with invented family portraits, people in bizarre handmade costumes, surreal, colourful imagery, and playful eroticism. There was something instantly magnetic about it."
That single book opened the door to an entire ecosystem of fearless creators. "I quickly realised this was more than just a niche scene, or a moment in art history," Am谷lie recalls. "I kept discovering whole new realms: Butoh, Angura theatre, protest art, erotic photography, street performance, experimental cinema, graphic design. There were so many disciplines, and yet a shared urgency ran through them all, along with immense psychological and philosophical depth."
? Nakatani Tadao. Courtesy of Keio University Art Center and Butoh Laboratory, Japan
? Ikegami Naoya. Courtesy of Ikegami Naoya
? Nakatani Tadao. Courtesy of Keio University Art Center and Butoh Laboratory, Japan
Context, here, is crucial. Japan in the 1960s was a pressure cooker of social change, political unrest and student protests. But for this generation of artists, the trauma ran deeper. "The traditions they inherited felt either complicit or inadequate. So they set out to make something else entirely, something unrecognisable, built not on continuity but on fracture," Am谷lie explains.
This revolutionary spirit manifested across disciplines in radical ways. "What emerged wasn't a tidy movement with manifestos and leaders, but an eruption of groundbreaking new art: raw, urgent and untamed," says Am谷lie. "They weren't interested in preserving the past or repairing it. They wanted to tear it open, to expose its contradictions, to reveal what lurked beneath the surface."
For example, Provoke was a short-lived publication, but its influence on the world of photography worldwide was enormous. "Born from a time of radical political unrest, it rejected the idea that photography should simply reflect reality," says Am谷lie. "Instead, it aimed to fracture it. The photographs in Provoke weren't meant to explain or document the truth; they were meant to provoke."
Butoh dance, meanwhile, emerged as perhaps the most visceral response to the era's trauma. "It was not dance or choreography in the traditional sense," Am谷lie explains, "but something far stranger, more elemental; a confrontation between flesh and memory set in the afterlife. Choreographer Hijikata Tatsumi described it as a way of uncaging primal energy buried deep in the body, an energy modern society had tried to forget."
Elsewhere, street performance groups made radical statements through their art. As the Neo-Dada Organisers declared at the time: "No matter how much we fantasise about procreation in the year 1960, a single atomic explosion will casually solve everything for us. So Picasso's fighting bulls no longer move us, any more than the spray of blood from a run-over stray cat."
Despite the movement's global influence, much of this work remains largely unknown outside of its home nation. "Japan can be incredibly impenetrable from the outside, first with the language barrier, and the difficulty of access," Am谷lie reflects. "So many of these works were ephemeral or self-published, and there's little archival infrastructure in place to preserve or translate them. A lot of the key writing still hasn't been translated."
"Hundreds of photobooks and artist books from this era were published, but they've become collector's items; incredibly rare and prohibitively expensive," she adds. "For anyone outside the country, it's almost impossible to access them without spending a lot of money."
? Hanaga Mitsutoshi. Courtesy of Mitsutoshi Hanaga Project Committee
? Nakatani Tadao. Courtesy of Keio University Art Center and Butoh Laboratory, Japan
? Murai Tokuji. Courtesy of Murai Er
In doing this research, Am谷lie discovered the extraordinary interconnectivity among artists during this era. "There was constant dialogue and exchanges across disciplines, influencing and shaping each other in real time," Am谷lie says. "Even though this was quite a small circle of people, the intensity of creative exchange and their influence on one another ran deep."
She describes one particularly revealing connection. "When I met Yokoo Tadanori [a contemporary artist known for his posters and vibrant, eclectic style], he told me a lovely anecdote about Terayama [founder of the Tenjo Sajiki theatre troupe, a key force in the Angura movement]. Every single morning, without fail, Terayama would call him, even if he was still half-asleep. They would talk about everything, every little detail of the day before. The art was inseparable from the friendship."
What strikes Am谷lie most about these artists, though, was their enduring creative hunger. Indeed, during her interviews, she was moved by their continued vitality today.
"The artist Tanaami Keiichi, who sadly passed away last year, was the first we interviewed, back in 2021 during Covid," she recalls. "He told us that to pass the time during lockdown, he'd decided to start reinterpreting Picasso. He showed us hundreds of new canvases lining the walls of his studio, all wildly imaginative, all unmistakably his."
Similarly, when she met 88-year-old Yokoo Tadanori, she discovered his appetite for new challenges remained undiminished.
? Tanaami Keiichi. Courtesy of Nanzuka
? Santaro Tanabe*s Estate. Courtesy of Hana Miriam Tanabe
? Terayama Sh迂ji. Courtesy of Sasame Hiroyuki, Terayama World Co.
"He mentioned in passing that he was working on a new film. I said I didn't realise he was a film director, and he smiled and said, 'No, it's my first one!' That really stayed with me. I love that spirit of reinvention, of continuing to challenge yourself; instead of just repeating your famous works or rehashing the past glories of your youth."
Japan Art Revolution itself embodies the aesthetic principles of its subjects. Drawing inspiration from Yokoo Tadanori and Awazu Kiyoshi, Am谷lie rejected conventional publishing approaches.
"Unlike the classic European publications with endless white space, small fonts and polite design, Yokoo's and Awazu's books were a full sensory experience, with colour everywhere, typography colliding, illustrations layered over photographs, unexpected textures, and tiny graphic details crammed into every inch of the page," she explains.
"Designing Japan Art Revolution was the natural extension of that influence," she continues. "It was my first time designing a book on that scale, and I loved the challenge. For several intense months, I was in a state of pure, frenzied inspiration, where the design seemed to flow effortlessly, as if the book were designing itself."
For today's creatives facing their own industry disruptions, the book offers both inspiration and instruction. "More than anything, I hope it makes people want to create," says Am谷lie. "That, for me, is the greatest compliment anyone can give after reading the book or seeing the film, that it sparked something in them. The urge to pick up a camera, a brush, to write, to build, to experiment. That spark is what I want to pass on. It's the most precious thing an artist can offer."
? Mitsutoshi Hanaga. Courtesy of Mitsutoshi Hanaga Project Committee
? Nakahira Gen. Courtesy of Osiris
? Ishiuchi Miyako. Courtesy of The Third Gallery Aya
Importantly, the artists featured in Japan Art Revolution weren't driven by commercial considerations but by deeper necessities. "You can feel their passion, and that can't be faked," she emphasises. "It has nothing to do with fame, reputation or success. It's about the fire driving the work, the urge and necessity behind it."
Above all, these artists were relentlessly prolific. "Their life's purpose was to create, and what they left behind is a body of work that spans thousands of photobooks, performances, experimental films, paintings and publications." And in an age of creative conformity and algorithmic feeds, such fearless experimentation feels more relevant than ever.
For professionals seeking their own creative breakthroughs in 2025, Japan Art Revolution offers a masterclass in radical reinvention. Overall, it's a reminder that the most powerful art emerges not from comfort zones, but from complete rupture with what came before.
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By Steven Tang
Have a snack handy because the artists we're looking at today specialise in making people hungry.
Like feeling the breeze on your face or the kick of a bass drum through your soul, the taste and texture of food is something everyone can relate to. Enjoying a meal is an integral part of what it means to be human. For many illustrators, food is a huge source of inspiration and researching this article was nothing less than a delicious experience 每 for the eyes, if not the mouth.
With pointers from Creative Boom readers, we tracked down five leading food illustrators from diverse backgrounds, located in various parts of the world, and working in distinct styles. We wanted to find out more about how they work, how they think and what it is about food that inspires their creativity.
It takes talent to create culinary imagery that makes viewers salivate; therefore, we believe food illustration will always be in demand. In packaging, illustration adds a layer of creativity that elevates the product in ways photography may not be able to achieve. The style of the artwork can be tailored to ensure that boxes, cans, jars, and bottles of food are uniquely designed for the client, while making a connection with wholesome nutrition, fresh produce, original recipes, home cooking, and handmade creativity.
More than that, every food illustrator in the world has something that AI art applications don't. And that's the ability to taste and truly experience any dish. As an artist and a food enthusiast, you understand how food can evoke emotions in people. It's something that just can't be simulated. So, let's eat up!
"My passion for food led me to fall heavily into working in that space, splashing it across books, campaigns, artwork and products. Lots of personal work I have done about food has allowed me to attract more client work in that space with absolutely no complaints from me," says Alice Oehr.
For this Melbourne illustrator, the key to creating appealing culinary imagery is to bring out the graphic qualities of the food, using forms, patterns and textures. By simplifying, exaggerating and stylising certain aspects of the visual, she finds something new and fun in there, and presents it with a bit of polish. "Most important is the element of play, I think. Food is fun, and when illustration, not photography, is the medium, I feel like it's my duty to be playful with the outcome."
You'll see this sense of fun writ large in Alice's food murals, food art exhibitions, food books and client work. Often, the genius in her work lies in its simplicity 每 brightly coloured forms, lines, scribbles, patterns, and textures suddenly transform into beautiful plated dishes of bright red tomatoes and freshly fried fish.
However, the simplicity belies the hard work that goes into the process, which involves both handmade and digital techniques. "I draw or hand-cut all my elements, then assemble them digitally in Adobe Illustrator. I love the hard lines of vectors, paired with the organic lines of something like oil pastel, so my work usually involves a combo of these things. I sometimes love to add digital touches like a gradient or halftone dots, which speak specifically to digital media, but I avoid using digital brushes because I enjoy the physical act of using these tools, and I like how they don't come out the same every time 每 they will surprise you in the way digital brushes will not," says Alice.
Based in Bangalore, India, illustrator Muhammed Sajid creates surreal, imaginative compositions, often with wild colour palettes and plenty of energy. Food often features in his work 每 either as the main focus or as secondary detail 每 and there's an interesting reason for this.
"I got into food illustration through my love of still life. When I'm bored or blocked, I return to drawing food. It resets me," says Sajid. "Food allows me to choose simple, striking subjects, and I usually focus on the finished dish rather than individual ingredients, because one plate can tell the whole story at a glance."
Sajid makes the dish the hero of the composition, with a strong silhouette. Then, working digitally, he adds in the lighting and textures so that the image speaks to the viewer 每 gloss on the gravy, crumbs by the bread, steam rising from hot plates.
Tasting the food is important to Sajid, but he's not one for cooking. His process begins with collecting reference and mood imagery. Then his focus is on the composition. "Sometimes I also work physically with poster colour or markers on paper, it adds a tactile, handmade energy and happy imperfections that suit bold, graphic food studies, then I scan and lightly refine if needed," he adds.
For over a decade, Anna Farba has been obsessed with painting food and plants in her Vancouver studio. It's what she loves, and it's a worthwhile pursuit, attracting clients in the publishing, packaging, health and beauty, and homeware industries. Her Harvest Dessert Plates for Anthropologie are the bomb!
For Anna, experiencing food is as important as the image itself. She regularly visits farmers' markets, and photographs and tastes the local cuisine wherever she travels. "Whenever I paint ingredients for packaging, I aim to capture more than just their likeness," says Anna. "I focus on their texture, colour, and mood, aiming to convey the personality of each ingredient while also creating a cohesive look for the entire series for the final product."
The use of watercolour always lends Anna's food imagery an extra layer of craft and a sense of natural beauty. She often discusses with clients why the medium is so well-suited for the food industry.
"I love working in watercolour because of its flowing nature〞it can be both accidental and precise at the same time. Watching colours blend and create unexpected textures is always mesmerising," says Anna. "I also focus on the hand-painted quality of my work, something my clients often request, as it brings a unique warmth and character that digital methods can't replicate."
Steven Tang is a self-taught artist dedicated to celebrating Hong Kong's culinary identity through the most vivid and realistic coloured pencil drawings you'll ever see. While other artists create imagery that moves us emotionally and intellectually, the realism of Steven's approach has a visceral effect. It. Is. Mouthwatering.
The talent Steven expresses is backed by a great deal of hard work to achieve the desired effect. "I love reinventing compositions and keep experimenting with different angles and arrangements. Sometimes, I'll also amplify the contrast of the artwork to enhance dimensionality and employ varied strokes to simulate surfaces, from glossy sauces to crispy crusts," says Steven.
Visiting restaurants, photographing dishes, sketching compositions, analysing the colours and textures 每 the process for an image may take several days, or even months. In 2018, Steven caught the eye with his coloured pencil drawings of Tam Jai noodles 每 Hong Kong's favourite comfort food. His exhibitions of hyper-realistic food artwork in ArtspaceK and Touch Gallery have sold out.
As well as creating artworks, Steven teaches art in Hong Kong and sells imagery as prints and postcards. We reckon it's only a matter of time before he's illustrating for top food, drink and hospitality clients.
"For me, illustration is like cooking 每 I love both, and I even once dreamed of becoming a chef," says Berlin-based illustrator Adrian Bauer. "You mix different ingredients, whether colours or food, to create something entirely new. In the end, it's about conveying a flavour and a mood, making a feeling tangible."
Adrian is inspired by infographics, New Objectivity, Minimal Realism and the idea of creating a visual language. To use an analogy, when creating a food illustration, Adrian tries to boil the subject down to its essence 每 the geometry, textures and colours that reflect the materiality and character of the food. He likes the idea of cutting food open, seeing what's inside and studying it, whether or not it feeds into the finished work.
A fructose intolerance gives Adrian a unique perspective on food, as he is so focused on certain ingredients for health reasons. "It means I experiment a lot with different foods and ways of preparing them," explains Adrian. "Normally, I don't cook a dish just because I'm illustrating it for a commission, but once I actually bought a lobster to study and draw its anatomy in detail. The bonus: lobster for dinner."
Can AI take work away from human illustrators? "AI visuals feel like fast food to me. They might be convenient in the moment and look fine at first, but deep down, you know they're not good for you in your tummy. It's better to take the time to cook or draw," says Adrian.
Image licensed via Adobe Stock
When someone blatantly copies your work, how should you respond? In the third of our advice series, creatives share their strategies.
Welcome to the latest in our agony aunt series, Dear Boom. This week's dilemma touches on one of the most maddening of experiences. A creative has spotted someone stealing their ideas and being a copycat. How should they respond?
When we asked our community this question on Instagram, the responses were immediate and passionate. Everyone, it seems, has been there: that sickening moment when you recognise your own work reflected back at you, uncredited and unacknowledged.
It's natural to feel anger, frustration, and a deep sense of violation. But what's the best way to channel these feelings, and not let them eat you up from the inside?
As a creative, dealing with copying is something you get better at over time, says graphic artist Ranjit Sihat. "Once, I'd have confronted them and become angry enough to lose my own peace of mind," she reflects. "But nowadays I see things differently. It can be an opportunity to push my work further, and maybe I'll even feel a little sorry for them."
Ranjit has also learned over time to adopt a more philosophical perspective on copying. "I've just finished reading about Lichtenstein, who was hailed as a Pop Art pioneer but was, to some, a plagiarist," she explains. "And this makes me wonder: how frustrated did the original comic artists feel about this at the time?"
From pop art to hip-hop sampling, copying has always (like it or not) been part of creative evolution. So the question is: How much energy do you want to spend on someone else's behaviour, versus investing in your own growth?
Designer Allan Peters believes you're often best off rising above it. "Invest your energy into your next project, not going after the copycat," he advises. "Make the next thing they'll want to copy."
In other words, his recommended defence against copycats is to keep moving. While they're stuck reproducing your old work, you'll already be three steps ahead, developing new ideas they haven't even seen yet. It's a mindset that transforms you from victim to pioneer.
That's not to say, though, that action isn't sometimes warranted; it's all about context. As copywriter Paul Machin puts it: "Do you know this person, or are they a random stranger? If the latter, I'd be tempted to make contact and see what they're about 每 not in an aggressive way, but rather a calm and considered request to connect. It may spook them. Alternatively, you could send them a 'cease and desist' email or letter, with the implication of legal action."
This calm, professional contact serves multiple purposes. It establishes that you're aware of the copying. It opens a dialogue if the person is reasonable. It also creates a paper trail in case legal action becomes necessary.
The key word here, of course, is "calm". Approaching copycats while angry rarely yields the desired outcome and often escalates situations unnecessarily.
At the same time, don't expect legal action to be a silver bullet. For instance, there's a murky grey area between what's considered "theft" and what's seen as "inspiration". To take one offbeat example, the Sex Pistols admitted their song Pretty Vacant lifted the guitar riff from ABBA's SOS. However, personally, I never spotted the similarity, and I don't think many music fans would have either.
Complicating things further, brand maker Fiona O'Brien points out that while visual work can be protected by copyright, ideas themselves are much harder to defend legally. "I've had this so many times," she complains. "There's nothing more infuriating! I can never get my head around people who feel okay with doing this. It's the opposite of how I like to live my life."
Professional illustrator Inma Hortas shares Fiona's anger. "It's happened to me as well," she says. "I hate all you mediocre minds. I block every copycat I find, mine and from others as well." But while this emotional response is understandable, graphic designer Ben Flay believes we should try to look on the positive side.
"Plagiarists copy because they can't do," he argues. "And as they say, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery." In other words, it's proof that your own work is meaningful and valuable enough to copy in the first place.
Ultimately, how you deal with copycats will vary on a case-by-case basis, depending on your circumstances, personality, the stage of your career, and the severity and damage of the infringement. On the whole, though, here are some things you'll want to do in every situation.
Document everything. Whether you confront the copycat or not, keep records of your original work and when you created it. Screenshots, timestamps and project files all matter if things escalate.
Assess the damage. Try to find out whether this person is actually competing with you, or if they're copying in a different market entirely. The latter doesn't make it right, of course, but it will affect how you respond. For example, a student copying your style for practice is different from a rival stealing your client work and selling it to the highest bidder.
Consider your energy. Fighting copycats can consume enormous amounts of time and emotional bandwidth. So sometimes the best response is to channel that energy into more positive outlets, such as creating work so distinctive and advanced that copying becomes impossible anyway.
Know your legal options. While ideas themselves can't be copyrighted, some specific expressions of ideas can be. So if someone has stolen significant amounts of your actual design work, writing, photography or music〞not just the concept behind it〞legal action can be worth considering.
Copying is an inevitable part of creative life. As frustrating as it is, every successful creative will face it many times during their career. The question, then, isn't whether it will happen, but how you'll respond when it does.
Overall, we recommend that you document the situation thoroughly and cultivate emotional resilience. So yes, you should protect your work where possible, and confront copycats when necessary. But never let their lack of originality diminish your own creative drive.
After all, there's something deeply satisfying about the knowledge that while people are copying your past work, you're already creating their next source material. So stay one step ahead, keep creating, and remember: imitation might be the sincerest form of flattery, but innovation is the ultimate victory.
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IRL Sheffield
The Lake District每based paper mill James Cropper is backing our grassroots series of free meetups, which bring creatives together in real life to connect, share ideas, and spark new friendships.
Creative Boom IRL is all about what happens when we step away from our screens and meet face-to-face. Think relaxed conversations over coffee or beer, spontaneous collaborations, and the kind of encouragement you only find in a room full of like-minded people. Even better, every event is completely free and run by volunteer hosts across the UK.
As Creative Boom IRL has grown, we've always wanted these gatherings to remain open and welcoming. But there's only so much we can do alone. We needed a partner who shares our values and understands that community comes first. Enter James Cropper. With a proud history of supporting creatives, as well as leading in design and innovation, they really felt like the perfect match to help us keep IRL thriving, while staying true to its grassroots spirit.
This partnership is built on a genuine connection. Over the past few months, we've been getting to know the team at James Cropper. When we told them how IRL events are organised (by volunteers, for creatives), they jumped at the chance to support the next series of gatherings. Their belief in what we're building means the world to us.
IRL itself began in The Studio, Creative Boom's private community for creatives, which was born from a shared frustration with the changing algorithms of social media and the impact of AI. Our members put their hands up and asked if they could have "in real life" events and volunteered to make it happen. On the format, they were very clear on what they didn't want: more talks. They just wanted the chance to be together again. And so back in April we began with Manchester, Birmingham, Sheffield, Leeds, and Durham. In future, we have IRL events planned for Belfast, Bristol, and London. I have a feeling we're only just getting started.
IRL Birmingham. Photography by Dray-Darnell Gonzales
IRL Manchester
IRL Sheffield
Just eight months later, The Studio itself is home to nearly 6,000 members, and IRL events are popping up across the country thanks to the energy of local hosts who give their time to bring people together.
Take IRL Sheffield, co-hosted by independent designer Kirsty Grafton of Graft Creative and brand and content strategist Emily O'Brien of Folly. Or IRL Leeds where Vicky Zaremba of Northwords, Brett Kellett of Studio Brett and Kate Campbell of Wonderlust are creating something special.
In Birmingham, Louise O'Kane, creative director and founder of LULACREATES, is bringing local creatives together. And in Manchester, advertising photographer Pip Rustage is holding the fort. Last but not least, Durham is hosted by Clare Lavelle who's the creative force behind Aniseed Creative.
These brilliant people volunteer their time because they believe, like we do, that creativity thrives when we come together.
IRL Sheffield
IRL Leeds 每 Photography by Michael Godsall
Sixteen years on from launching Creative Boom, it's heartening to see the same spirit that inspired the site in 2009 still alive and kicking. Back then, I felt the creative world could be cliquey, elite and too London-centric. I wanted to build something different 每 a platform with community and inclusivity at its heart. Maybe a little Northern charm and warmth. Yes, we take our craft seriously. But we don't have to take ourselves too seriously. That belief has resonated with millions of readers, not just across the UK but worldwide.
Today, it's wonderful to see brands we admire recognising that hard-fought value. James Cropper's support isn't just sponsorship. It's a sign that community-led creativity matters. Amazingly, it allows us to keep IRL free, inclusive and run by the people who care most...and that's the creatives themselves.
Here's to more conversations, collaborations, and friendships made "in real life". And to the brilliant volunteers and our new partner James Cropper who make it all possible, thank you so much. See you at the next event? Details over in The Studio.
IRL Leeds 每 Photography by Michael Godsall
The designer and founder of independent studio Siyart reflects on her journey from fine art to graphic design, the influence of her hometown Jaipur, and why empathy sits at the heart of her practice.
For Siya Golecha, design was never a straight line. Before founding Siyart, the independent design studio she now runs between India and London, her path wound through fine art, mixed media, and printmaking. It was only during a foundation year at Central Saint Martins that she started to consider graphic design as a serious pursuit.
"One of my tutors, whose opinion I strongly valued, encouraged me to think seriously about graphic design as I had a good balance of artistic skills and business understanding, and kept up with global trends," Siya recalls. "This insight went on to completely shift my perspective on what I would do next."
That next step was a BA in Graphic and Media Design at the London College of Communication, where she immersed herself in editorial design. Eight publications later, she had not only mastered the fundamentals but also developed a growing fascination with brand identity. "I loved building a brand identity from scratch, helping shape its voice, story and personality," she says.
Then, the leap into independence came quickly, with her first project coming through an Instagram DM. Siya explains: "Working on that project end-to-end made me realise this is what I wanted all along 每 to build a practice from the ground up that enabled me to explore myself and my interests."
Operating between India and London is not without its challenges, but for Siya, it's a vital source of creative energy. "Having a practice in different geographies is not the easiest to balance logistically, but it's something I really enjoy and benefit from," she says.
In India, she is surrounded by traditions, colours and crafts that naturally influence her work. London, by contrast, offers exposure to global design culture, mentors, and cutting-edge studios. Rather than treating them as separate worlds, she moves fluidly between both.
"Moving between places makes me adaptable, and opens the doors to travel, to attend events, and to collaborate with clients across different regions," says Siya. "Rather than relying on a single environment, I get to absorb contexts from both, which keeps my practice evolving."
Ask Siya what defines her design ethos, and three words recur: storytelling, culture, empathy. Each, she believes, is essential for work that resonates.
"For me, good stories deserve to be told in creative and engaging ways," she says. "Storytelling is about owning your story and sharing it in a way that feels real, while culture adds depth and makes a design feel personal instead of generic. Empathy is what allows the work to connect emotionally, not just visually."
In a climate where AI-generated visuals risk flooding the field with surface-level work, she sees these qualities as more important than ever. Siya adds, "I think with AI becoming more present, there is a real risk of losing your voice.
"Having a strong sense of your own story and culture gives you an upper hand, because it keeps the work human."
Of all her projects, one stands out above the rest. As part of an internship application, Siya was tasked with creating a brand identity for her hometown of Jaipur. Rather than approaching it like a conventional city brand, she drew from her own lived experience.
"The project was my submission to an internship application at Designwerk, London," she explains. "Rather than beginning with the city as a whole, I decided to begin with my own experience. Jaipur is the city that shaped my childhood, and it felt important to design directly from my own perspective."
The result was a warm, textured identity inspired by block prints, hand-painted signage, and the colours of home. Typography choices were particularly challenging, though.
Siya says: "I wanted something that carried a sense of tradition but still felt modern and unconventional, so balancing nostalgia with freshness became the defining task.
The outcome is both personal and universal, and it's clearly a love letter to Jaipur that sidesteps clich谷s, while still respecting the city's history. "The goal was to create something heartfelt that represented what Jaipur means to me personally, not just how it appears on the outside," she adds. "It showed me how design can hold emotion and memory and not just look good."
Empathy is sometimes one of those buzzwords that appear without substance, but when it comes to Siya, it's clear just how much it influences her approach to listening and responding in every project. She explains: "With clients, I try to go beyond the brief and understand not only what they want to communicate through their brand, but also what this story or project means to them and how they want others to experience it.
"Personal projects, meanwhile, are rooted in her own memories and cultural context."
Her reinterpretation of Loter赤a, the traditional Mexican card game, is a case in point. She studied its cultural symbolism and reimagined it in a way that felt both celebratory and rooted in tradition. In both Loter赤a and Jaipur, the aim was to create work that makes people feel "nostalgic, proud, or understood."
Running Siyart has brought its fair share of lessons and surprises. "One of the most important lessons that working independently has taught me is that design is bigger than the creative aspect 每 it's about people, their story and the collaborative process of bringing a vision to life," says Siya.
She has also learned to embrace unpredictability. "Some of the most rewarding opportunities arrived in the most ordinary and mundane ways, like an unexpected DM in response to a post, or a passing conversation," she adds. Siya also believes that patience and persistence often matter more than quick wins.
Unsurprisingly, when asked what's next, Siya is keen to take on more projects that combine culture, storytelling and identity. "Working with lifestyle, fashion and food brands particularly interests me, as they often carry strong narratives ripe for innovative portrayal," she says. She's equally excited about experimental work that crosses disciplines and challenges conventions.
Ultimately, Siyart remains a vessel for her curiosity and a platform for stories she believes deserve a voice. "Over the long term, my goal is to find stories I believe the world can benefit from, and build identities around them that feel authentic, emotional and durable."
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Navat Uy, 2024-2025 by Laila Gohar in collaboration with Ilkhom Shoyimkulov. Photo by Felix Odell courtesy of the Uzbekistan Art and Culture Development Foundation.
Bukhara, a UNESCO Creative City of Crafts & Folk Art, brings together international artists and local artisans for phenomenal one-off projects. What happens when design thinking, visual storytelling and centuries-old craft traditions meet?
The scope and ambition of Recipes for Broken Hearts, the first Bukhara Biennial, curated by Artistic Director Diana Campbell, cannot be overplayed.
The ancient Silk Road city, renowned for being a centre of learning and trade, a hub of architecture and crafts, has built upon the proud heritage of the country, its textiles, ceramics, and copper, and reframed the relationship and hierarchy of maker and ideator.
The biennial has been conceived by Gayane Umerova, Chairperson of the Uzbekistan Art & Culture Development Fund (ACDF), as an opportunity to pair international contemporary artists with local artisans, master craftspeople, and traditional makers and specialists to expand notions of authorship. Attribution ensures lead artisans are acknowledged by name and don't remain anonymous makers.
The exhibition champions heritage and confronts the international art world head-on, despite or perhaps because of the limited infrastructure and support for this field of creativity in recent decades. The ACDF has a huge remit. It is restoring historic sites as much as it is building new galleries and art spaces 每 but in welcoming the world to Bukhara, it demonstrates how it is achieving both of these lofty aims in front of a global audience.
Amidst the contextual embedding and site-specific installations, material and technique exchanges, and shared decision-making, the blurring of fine and applied arts is evident. The following four key examples are shared below. Like the sometimes fraught relationships between creative directors and production partners, illustrators and printers, even between words and fonts, these symbiotic achievements say nothing of the long conversations and complex challenges overcome in bringing them successfully into existence.
CLOSE, 2024-2025 by Antony Gormley in collaboration with Temur Jumaev, in front of The Earth's Shadow, 2024-2025 by Delcy Morelos in collaboration with Baxtiyor Akhmedov. Photo by Adrien Dirand courtesy of the Uzbekistan Art and Culture Development Foundation.
Navat Uy, 2024-2025 by Laila Gohar in collaboration with Ilkhom Shoyimkulov. Photo by Felix Odell courtesy of the Uzbekistan Art and Culture Development Foundation.
Navat Uy, 2024 每 2025, Laila Gohar (Egypt) and Ilkholm Shoyimkulov. Taking the exhibition title's implicit suggestion of ingredients to heart, this piece is a beautiful metal-framed, shed-scaled form, entirely covered in amber-like, crystallised rock sugar. The long supporting beams of the structure each embody strands or dense, glassy sweetness, slowly dripping caramel in the hot afternoon sun onto the Earth below.
Suggesting ideas of loss, memory, fragility, and temporality, the piece also demonstrates an incredible labour of craft. Material as metaphor need not require an artisan to help an artist to fulfil their vision, but in this case, the Central Asian use of navat 每 a slow crystallisation of grape syrup on thread requiring time and care before the mass-industrial use of cane sugar 每 is key to the collaboration.
Elsewhere on site and around the country, you could be offered tea with a small navat stick, whereby the sugar slowly melts and sweetens the drink.
CLOSE, 2024-2025 by Antony Gormley in collaboration with Temur Jumaev, in front of A Thousand Prayers, 2025 by Jazgul Madazimova in collaboration with the women of Bukhara. Photo by Felix Odell courtesy of the Uzbekistan Art and Culture Development Foundation.
CLOSE, 2024 每 2025, Antony Gormley (UK) and Temur Jumaev and a team of Uzbek brickmakers. Much of the old city is built from adobe, the mix of mud and straw rather than Californian-based software. In the ruins of the sixteenth-century Khoja Kalon Mosque, thousands of mudbricks have been sundried, not fired, and used to create a library from which elements could be selected and stacked to suggest the human form in one hundred different poses.
Walking through the figures, each twice human in size, feels somewhat like passing through a cemetery, a field of human presences. But as the artist has been keen to point out, this is incredibly sustainable as a practice. Echoing the architecture of traditional local buildings, the material has been dug from under your feet, right there in Bukhara.
And it's been baked in the sun, a further natural resource in abundance. Gormley has spoken of the double-meaning of the title, Close 每 both nearby and shut off. Another consideration of the artist is that these bodies are pixelated, albeit with the original building blocks of handmade bricks as the pixels. There are layers upon layers of meditations in these figures and their placement, and multiple viewpoints suggest more inquiries than answers. As a vessel, isn't everybody unknown?
The Earth's Shadow, 2024-2025 by Delcy Morelos in collaboration with Baxtiyor Akhmedov. Photo by Adrien Dirand courtesy of the Uzbekistan Art and Culture Development Foundation.
The Earth's Shadow, 2024 每 2025, Delcy Morelos (Colombia) and Baxtiyor Akhmedov. Sat alongside the above installation is a woven yellow pyramid, even more striking for its scent than its shape.
The entire structure is a pungent temple to turmeric. In fact, fourth-generation Bukharian spice merchants have concocted a heady mix of Earth, sand, clay, cinnamon, cloves and turmeric to slather the wicker-wooden building, creating a memorable piece of sensory architecture. It stands sufficiently high to accommodate several upright adults after stooping to enter. It offers a beautiful interplay of light and shadow, as well as much sought-after shade on the hottest days.
As an artist, Morelos often uses spices and fibres, but her collaborator here was a particular expert in local weaving techniques, and the sanctuary's successful execution is very much down to Akhmedov.
Longing, 2024-2025 by Hylozoic/Desires in collaboration with Rasuljon Mirzaahmedov (Margilan Crafts Development Centre). Photo by Felix Odell courtesy of the Uzbekistan Art and Culture Development Foundation.
Longing, 2024 每 2025, Hylozoic/Desires (Himali Singh Soin and David Soin Tappeser) (India/UK) and Rasuljon Mirzaahmedov. Uzbekistan is one of only two countries in the world that is double landlocked, meaning even its surrounding neighbours don't have direct access to a coastline. Canals were introduced to town centres as early as medieval times, but a lack of water flow meant standing water often harboured disease.
More recently, the great Aral Sea, once the third-largest lake on Earth, has been drying up since the 1960s. Concern for water is a national issue, both emotionally and politically. This piece, long and lyrical, places ikat fabric, textiles created with yarns protected from dyeing before being woven (unlike tie-dye or batik, where dyeing occurs after weaving), above the Shah Rud canal, which runs through the old town centre and biennial sites. Transitions in the fabric's colours and designs relate to satellite imagery of the lost lake over time, reinforcing the dialogue between past and present, idea and maker.
As with most of the exhibits, the gestation and creation of these artworks have taken months, if not years, and involved multiple visits by international artists to their Uzbek partners and co-authors.
For those working in visual communications, inspiration flows, and the lessons are compelling. Collaboration with enough time can help create extraordinary projects. Democratisation of work can foster strong communities. Materials can tell their own story, clay whispers of weight and time, turmeric radiates warmth and colour. Impermanence need not be a restriction 每 temporality has its own qualities. Context is part of the message. In the ruins of a mosque, these works resonate with ideas of ritual, memory, and community.
Along a waterway, the rhythmic hanging of fabric is both a prayer for rain and a unique placemarker for visitors. Duality is omnipresent 每 anything and everything can mean more than one thing within your presentations.
Perhaps the deepest takeaway is that collaboration itself is the medium. Just as a designer needs a brief, and pixels need code, ideas need hands. People work with people. At the Bukhara Biennial, art is not only imagined but also created and shared together.
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Premium UK paint brand Coat crashed London Fashion Week with 'Carry Your Coat', a guerrilla-style campaign that transformed recyclable tins into fashion's most subversive handbag.
Queues and streets, not catwalks, are where the real spectacle happened at this year's London Fashion Week. Among the usual parade of Balenciaga trainers, Dior saddles, and carefully curated street-style looks, a handful of models were clutching something far less predictable: white paint tins.
The accessory wasn't a design mishap, but a deliberate stunt by Coat, the UK's first and only B Corp-certified, Climate-Positive paint brand. Working with Belfast agency Allies Studio, the company launched Carry Your Coat, a live campaign that reimagined its recyclable tins as handbags.
Allies summed it up best, saying: "The most photographed bag at London Fashion Week isn't even a bag."
What followed was a whirlwind of real-time creativity. Photographer Panos Damaskinidis shot the models on the streets, then the images were designed, printed, and plastered back across London within hours. The campaign became a feedback loop where the stunt, its documentation, and its media presence blurred into one.
Of course, with a campaign like this, it's high-risk, high-reward, as a fast-turnaround activation leaves little margin for error. However, the urgency is what gave the work its edge, echoing the frenetic, blink-and-you'll-miss-it pace of fashion week itself.
Behind the playfulness was a deeper message. Each tin is infinitely recyclable, made-to-order with zero waste, and carbon negative. Models wore pre-loved clothing, styled by Positive Retail, to reinforce this message.
Rob Abraham, co-founder of Coat, explained: "A paint tin might not be a bag, but we believe this carries a bigger message."
That message was carried (quite literally) by stripped-back copy: Carry your COAT. It cast the tins as symbols of a rebellion against overconsumption. In a space where luxury labels fuel demand through scarcity and exclusivity, Coat suggested that sustainability could be just as covetable.
By the time the paste-ups were displayed at bus stops and Tube stations, the project had evolved from playful recontextualisation into a cultural statement. It's simple, unmissable, and impossible to ignore.
Perhaps the most surprising detail of all is that the Paint Tin Bag is actually available to buy. No waitlists or inflated price tags 每 just a tinbag, ready to carry 每 and all proceeds from sales are being donated to Furnishing Futures, the brand's partner charity.
In the end, Coat's Fashion Week debut proved that sometimes the sharpest commentaries on style don't happen on the runway at all. They appear in the spaces around it, where a white tin can upstage the season's latest drop.
The campaign for James Cropper celebrates the last coloured paper mill in Britain. Working with photographer Susan Castillo and Creative Boom, the Glasgow studio created a suite of handcrafted imagery and videos to introduce the paper mill's new Coloursource range.
Creative agency D8 has collaborated with James Cropper to launch Coloursource, its new range of 50 coloured papers. Working closely with its in-house marketing team, D8 aimed to capture the beauty and integrity of a traditional craft that has endured for nearly 180 years.
They invited photographer Susan Castillo to build a striking set of campaign images using nothing more than paper, fishing wire and extraordinary patience. No AI. No CGI. Every curve and shadow was meticulously created in a studio using a camera, basic equipment and specialised lighting.
Susan is renowned for her bold, graphic imagery and was the natural choice for the job. As well as being a photographer, she is also a set designer, stylist, and prop maker 每 resulting in a creative process that has become a defining aspect of her work. Her photography for this campaign showcases the Coloursource range like never before.
For Creative Boom, our videos take you inside the paper-making process, with a 20-minute mill-tour and a series of fun reels for our social media channels. Of course, we were more than happy to support James Cropper's mission to keep British paper-making alive, having long loved its products. It's therefore encouraging to see so many people engaging with our content and sharing it with their creative friends.
But Coloursource is more than a product launch. It's an invitation. The name reflects a belief that colour belongs to everyone. James Cropper has been pioneering colour since 1856, when it created the world's first coloured paper using synthetic dyes. From its mill on the River Kent in the Lake District National Park, the team continues to push the science of colour forward 每 not as gatekeepers, but as enablers of creativity.
The new range showcases 50 trusted heritage shades, built on over 50 years of expertise. Designed, formulated and crafted entirely in the UK, each colour is precision-engineered by a dedicated team of artisans. And it doesn't stop there. Bespoke formulations can be co-created in the mill's world-class colour lab, opening up a ton of opportunities for your projects.
Ahead of launch, D8 worked closely with James Cropper's Marketing Communications Manager, Jordan Scott, to refine the range's identity and messaging. And that was based on its core values. "Provenance, heritage, craft and the dedication of the maker# even the water source is an essential element in the finished product's quality and authenticity," says D8 co-founder Adrian Carroll. "When you want the original, go to the source."
My own visit to the Burneside mill, captured on camera, revealed the quiet drama behind every sheet: pigment blending, vast vats of coloured pulp and the thunder of massive machinery. But beyond all that, what makes Cropper particularly special is its people. They're good eggs. They welcome you in and share their secrets. Their mantra, "What's ours is yours", says it all.
If you didn't already know, James Cropper is the last true maker of coloured paper in Britain. By supporting them, you're not just making a design choice; you're championing British manufacturing, reducing your environmental impact and backing the very people who keep this amazing industry alive.
Did you know you can visit the mill yourself? Email colour@cropper.com to arrange a tour and see how coloured paper is made first-hand. It's an unforgettable experience and a reminder of what we risk losing if we don't support homegrown production. And, by the way, if you need any paper, don't forget that you can now order it directly from James Cropper.
That leaves me to say... If you care about people and the planet as much as we do, where you source your paper matters. James Cropper is where to begin 每 at the source of colour itself. We love their sentiment: 'What's ours is yours'. It feels very Creative Boom.
]]>The London-born bike brand unveils a global brand expression that celebrates its folding ingenuity while uniting an international community of over one million riders.
It's fair to say that Brompton is both a British design classic and a cultural touchpoint. For half a century, the folding bike has been synonymous with ingenuity, portability, and a certain envious and understated London style.
Now, as the company celebrates its 50th anniversary, it's also looking firmly ahead. To mark the milestone, Brompton has partnered with Studio Blackburn on a new identity and toolkit built around the positioning Life Unfolded.
The brief asked the studio to evolve the brand for a fast-expanding global audience without losing the quirk, craft, and cachet that made Brompton iconic in the first place.
"At Brompton, we've always believed our super-portable folding bikes represent more than transport," said Dimitri Hon, senior creative at Brompton. "They not only help people navigate their city differently, they also help them see their city differently. Additionally, they hold great cultural significance, especially in Asia.
"We needed a refreshed branding system that could unify the Brompton brand worldwide whilst offering enough flexibility to reflect local nuances."
That folding mechanism, which is so central to the bike's cult appeal, became the foundation for Studio Blackburn's design solution. Founder Paul Blackburn describes the concept: "Brompton is more than a bike, it's a lifestyle and a community, but at its heart, it's a moving product, so it needed a moving brand.
"We set out to design an identity that's as intelligent, flexible and dynamic as the bike itself, giving Brompton's teams worldwide the tools and confidence to bring the brand to life."
Motion became the guiding principle, underpinned by the way a Brompton shifts from compact to ride-ready, which informed how the brand flexes across film, digital, and retail. Just as the bikes are offered in two-, six-, and twelve-speed gearing, the studio created design assets that can move and shift in varying intensities, from smooth, minimal transitions to more dynamic animations.
This thinking extends into the refreshed logo system, where the familiar Brompton mark now unfolds from a simple box into multiple variations that mirror the physical fold. Meanwhile, Studio Blackburn designed a bespoke typeface derived from the original logotype. With only eight letters to start from, the team expanded the forms into a full alphabet, giving Brompton a distinctive typographic voice that remains authentically its own.
Instead of leaning on a broad colour palette, the brand has committed to one defining shade of custom Klein blue. Paul describes it as "brand colour rather than product colour." The blue acts as a universal thread 每 sometimes as a bold flood and sometimes as a subtle accent 每 but always unmistakably Brompton.
The system is further enriched with icons, passport-style stamps, and geometric shapes inspired by the bike's own components. These details add texture and authenticity, reinforcing the sense that the brand belongs to a worldwide movement.
One of the most challenging tasks was creating a system that could adapt to very different cultural contexts. In the UK, Brompton has always leaned into practicality, beating the Tube, tackling city commutes, and folding neatly under desks. In Asia, the bike has taken on an almost fashion-adjacent status, signalling lifestyle aspiration and cultural cachet, so Life Unfolded had to hold both.
"This is very much a brand evolution," said Paul. "Some things are pure Brompton and should always be present〞the logotype, box, typeface, behavioural qualities and the colour blue. However, we left space for local interpretation, particularly in terms of imagery.
"Real riders in real cities are what we call Brompton's 'other colour'. That emotion in motion allows the brand to convey the joy, freedom, and spontaneity that movement brings."
The launch coincides not only with Brompton's anniversary but with a moment of expansion for the brand. New product categories, new stores, and a growing international audience mean the identity must act as a unifying tool as much as a marketing device.
Chris Willingham, Brompton's CMO, said: "Studio Blackburn was very quick to understand the Brompton brand and how it needed to evolve globally. The new branding system fuses the craft and ingenuity that exists within the four walls of our London factory with the joy and freedom that the bike provides for our million-plus riders around the world.
"It's the ideal expression of our Life Unfolded platform and will help us on our next phase of growth."
For Paul and his team, the key was respect, both for Brompton's 50-year heritage and for its restless, forward-looking spirit. He said: "Brompton's purpose continues to be creating urban freedom for happier lives.
"That plays out differently around the world, but the insight is the same: Brompton owners choose to break from monotony and engage more fully with the city around them. The identity had to express that sense of choice and movement."
With the global rollout already underway, the refreshed brand expression is set to appear across stores, campaigns, and digital platforms. The anniversary year has offered the perfect launchpad, but the long-term ambition is to reinforce Brompton's position not just as a British design icon, but as a unifying force for a global community of riders.
And if you're wondering whether all of this might feel a bit lofty for a humble folding bike, Paul has a quick answer: "It's walking the walk as a brand 每 or pedalling the pedal, perhaps."
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Neko Health - Marylebone
Healthcare is shifting from reactive treatment to proactive care, and design is at the centre of the change. From diagnostic scans to recovery rituals, brands like Neko Health, Sweat Lounge, and Rebase are reimagining what it means to care for our bodies.
For most of us, the experience of healthcare hasn't been particularly inspiring. It's fluorescent waiting rooms, crowded GP surgeries, cluttered desks, and rushed appointments. Generally, don't seek it out unless something is wrong.
However, in recent years, we've seen that model start to break down. Around 80每90% of healthcare costs are now tied to chronic diseases 每 the slow-burning conditions that shorten lives and reduce quality of life. Treating them reactively is expensive and unsustainable, which is why a new wave of brands and founders is working to shift healthcare from an emergency intervention to an ongoing ritual, resulting in a more proactive way of living.
To succeed, though, these services can't just be clinically effective. They also need to feel desirable, which is where design plays a critical role. It has the power to motivate people to consistently engage with their health year after year.
Few companies embody this shift more clearly than Neko Health, the Swedish startup co-founded by Hjalmar Nilsonne and Spotify's Daniel Ek. Its mission is simple but radical: to create a proactive healthcare system.
"Today's model is reactive, as you see a doctor only once you're sick," Hjalmar explains. "That worked 100 years ago, when most health problems were acute or infectious. But now, the big question is: how do we shift from reactive to proactive healthcare, focused on protecting health rather than just treating disease?"
At Neko's clinics in London and Manchester, members can book a full-body health scan for ?300. It takes less than an hour and covers everything from cardiovascular health to skin conditions. Traditionally, the equivalent would cost thousands and require days of appointments. To make it viable, Neko had to design and engineer its own devices in-house, becoming both a medical device manufacturer and a healthcare provider.
What makes Neko remarkable is not just the technology but the experience. The clinics resemble nothing like hospitals, and each space is carefully tailored to its building and city, yet instantly recognisable as Neko. Scan rooms are standardised, but the wider interiors use lighting, textures, and materials that feel closer to a cultural space than a clinic.
"If people dread coming, it won't work," says Hjalmar. "Our aim is for members to look forward to returning, so the environment has to inspire as well as deliver medical quality. Healthcare spaces should be as well-designed and beautiful as restaurants or cultural spaces."
There's no doubt that their approach works too, as eighty per cent of members return annually for their check-up, and tens of thousands are on the waiting list. That level of engagement is rare in healthcare, and design is one of the key reasons people continue to come back.
Credit: Josh Bamford
Credit: Josh Bamford
Diagnostics are only part of the equation. If Neko is the "what's wrong", spaces like Sweat Lounge are the "what's next."
Founded by American entrepreneur Allison Huff, Sweat Lounge is the UK's first dedicated infrared sauna studio. She discovered the therapy while recovering from a back injury in Texas, where infrared is mainstream, and was struck by how absent it was in Britain.
The space she created in London feels closer to a retreat than a clinic. The front of house is designed in "desert in the day" colours, with warm, sandy neutrals with brighter accents. Step into the sauna area and the palette shifts to "desert at night", with moodier tones that encourage relaxation.
Sweat Lounge Chiswick
Sweat Lounge Chiswick
"The intersection of design and customer experience is where real change happens," Allison says. "When someone walks into a space that feels warm, calming, and designed for them, their entire mindset shifts. Attendance goes up, consistency improves, and with consistency come better outcomes, physically, mentally, and emotionally."
Sweat Lounge is consciously positioned between lifestyle and science. Its spaces feel soothing and luxurious, but the brand makes clear that infrared therapy is backed by research. Members report a range of benefits, including pain relief, faster recovery, better sleep, and improved skin.
Allison also has ambitious plans for the future, including Sweat Bars in gyms and additional flagship Sweat Lounges across the country. It's a sign of how proactive treatments, once niche, are becoming part of mainstream health culture.
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At the other end of the spectrum is Rebase Recovery, a private members' club in Marylebone that describes itself as a "social wellness club."
Its offering 每 ice baths, saunas, recovery treatments 每 leans more toward lifestyle and community than clinical diagnostics, but its design choices still reflect the wider shift. Natural textures, soft lighting, and a journey that flows from arrival to recovery are all intended to make health feel approachable rather than intimidating.
As the team behind Rebase puts it: "We show the science clearly but wrap it in warmth, the precise treatments in spaces that feel human, calming, and approachable."
It's more exclusive than accessible, but it demonstrates how the boundaries between health, wellness, and leisure are blurring, and how design is the glue holding it together.
Rebase Recovery Members Suite. Credit: Louis Waite Photography.
Rebase Recovery Premium Suite. Credit: Louis Waite Photography.
If interiors and interfaces are central to changing how we experience healthcare, communications are just as important. The way health brands advertise themselves must strike a balance between credibility and approachability. People don't want to feel like they're being sold to when it comes to something as personal as their health and well-being.
Neko's recent campaign for its recently opened Manchester clinic shows how this can be done. Rather than pushing technology or plastering logos across the city, the brand released a powerful film spotlighting local residents, titled 'A love letter to Manchester'.
The video doesn't focus on medical equipment or statistics. Instead, it celebrates how people contribute to their communities and positions proactive health as something that helps them continue doing what they love.
It's barely branded, with Neko's presence felt more in tone and intent than in overt messaging. This approach demonstrates how healthcare advertising is evolving to focus less on selling appointments and more on building trust and integrating health into everyday life.
What unites these examples is the understanding that health is no longer just about outcomes, but about experiences. To encourage people to be proactive, environments have to overcome centuries of negative associations with medicine.
That means making subtle but important design decisions, from referring to people as "members" rather than "patients" to designing interiors that feel like cultural spaces rather than clinics. It also means communicating data in clear, visual ways to speak to the masses (not just the tech bros) and building rituals that transform obligation into desire.
The balance is delicate because, if you lean too far into wellness aesthetics, credibility suffers, and if you lean too far into clinical design, people disengage. However, when the two are balanced, as Neko and Sweat Lounge show, the results can be transformative.
Credit: Josh Bamford
Credit: Josh Bamford
Proactive healthcare is an ecosystem, not just a single product. You need diagnostic spaces that provide the data, treatment spaces that help you act on it, and lifestyle spaces that support long-term habits.
The fact is that design is the common thread that ties everything together. It shapes how we interpret our health, how often we engage with it, and whether we see it as an obligation or a privilege.
The future of healthcare may not look like a traditional GP's office at all. It might look like a lounge, a spa, or even a caf谷. It will be defined by places where people feel comfortable, motivated, and empowered. As long as the science is sound, that shift could be the key to making proactive health a mainstream reality.
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Mark Beaumont, founder and chief creative officer of Dinosaur, examines why the most powerful public service ads don't just inform 每 they unsettle, disturb and make consequences impossible to ignore.
Changing human behaviour is never straightforward. People can understand the risks and grasp the logic, but daily habits, culture, and social pressure can take hold, which is why the most effective campaigns don't just inform.
They pierce through denial and make change feel urgent. Sometimes, only something heart-wrenching will do.
In the 1980s and '90s, government advertising didn't mince words or images. The work was stark, blunt and sometimes frightening.
One of the most famous examples remains the 1987 "AIDS: Don't Die of Ignorance" campaign. Every household in the UK received a leaflet with no-frills typography screaming danger. On TV, a giant granite tombstone slammed onto the screen, the word AIDS chiselled onto its surface as John Hurt's sombre voiceover warned of the deadly virus.
The design was severe and theatrical, featuring Gothic lighting, slow camera movements, and a score that rumbled like an earthquake. Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher attempted to block it, claiming it was too explicit, but it prevailed. Within a year, 98% of the public understood how HIV spread.
Drink-driving ads took the same uncompromising route. One notorious ad showed a mother spoon-feeding her paralysed son a liquidised Christmas dinner. The camera lingered on the slurry in the bowl, the silence broken only by her whisper: "Come on, Dave, just one more." Complaints flooded in and the ad was pulled, but it won a British TV Award and, more importantly, shifted behaviour on roads.
In all of these examples, the creative approach stripped away polish, embraced discomfort, and used design, sound and narrative tension to make consequences unforgettable.
By the 2010s, the tide had turned. Inspired by the rise of "brand purpose" in commercial advertising, government health campaigns softened their tone. The visual identity became brighter, the language more hopeful, and mascots replaced the mortuary slabs.
Change4Life epitomised this era. Its sunny yellow logo, bouncy stick-figure characters and playful typography felt more like a children's TV programme than a government campaign. The work leaned into partnership with supermarket tie-ins, recipe cards, and playful animations. The design world embraced vibrant colour palettes and handwritten fonts. Fear was out and friendliness was in.
Public Health England's One You campaign, which launched the NHS Couch to 5K app in 2016, followed a similar idea. The app's design was uplifting with bold images and motivational copy. On social media, relatable hashtags encouraged people to share their progress.
This gentler creative language lowered barriers and made small, positive steps feel achievable.
However, you could argue that getting up off the couch isn't comparable to giving up a lifelong addiction to a habit that will probably kill you. So, when it comes to the most resistant audiences, this softer tone often bounced off.
Our campaign for Greater Manchester's recent stop-smoking charge, "You'll miss much more", had to buck this soft and gentle trend in a big way and deliver an altogether different creative energy. In fact, it's more in line with the 80s and 90s than now, because it had to puncture denial in hardened smokers who had ignored every previous warning.
The creative team leaned heavily on personal storytelling. In the TV spot, we see a daughter on her wedding day and, as the camera focuses on her wedding speech, the scene twists and dissolves to her father in a hospital bed. The sound design is brutal, as the bride's joy gives way to the chilling audio of a death rattle. The casting made it more powerful, as the actor playing the father was a former smoker turned stop-smoking counsellor, adding authenticity to every strained breath.
Further executions were equally evocative, showing families missing precious milestones - baby's first steps, birthdays and graduation. The focus is on the devastating effect smoking has on families and the people they love, and leaves the viewer in no doubt that smoking will see them miss out on the things they value most in life.
App registrations for quitting support rose by 360% in the first phase, then 900% in the second. Three-quarters of all new registrations in Greater Manchester originated directly from the campaign, and most individuals set quit dates as well.
This says to me that tone, craft and execution matter as much as the message. A campaign for healthier family dinners may thrive on playful animation and upbeat copy. Still, when the brief demands cutting through denial, only the darkest palette and the most uncomfortable sound will do.
The World Health Organisation discusses behaviour change as a sequence: awareness, attitude, and then action. Ultimately, the role of creative is to decide how that sequence lands.
In an era of endless scroll, creative teams may be tempted to keep everything bright and upbeat. Yet there's still a place for work that unsettles and makes audiences squirm. Sometimes, the best creative decision is to make people uncomfortable because, when the stakes are high, hope might not be enough.
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From murals to motion, illustration is starting to reassert itself in advertising, but when do agencies and brands choose to commission it, and when do they shy away? We asked creatives, art buyers, agents and illustrators to weigh in.
Not long ago, illustrated campaigns were a fixture of the advertising landscape. From wartime posters by Abram Games to Merrydown Cider's joyful campaigns of the 1990s, illustration was once a central means by which brands communicated with the public.
More recently, photography and film have dominated as illustration became the 'riskier option'. A couple of reasons for that are that it's harder to sell to cautious clients, slower to produce at scale, and sometimes dismissed as "childlike". Havas creatives Daisy Bard and Orla O'Connor say: "Illustration is such an easy way to add dynamism and style# yet no one has bought an illustration idea from us in ages. It's a real shame."
Today, illustration sits at an interesting crossroads. It remains a vibrant cultural language, but it isn't always the default choice in advertising. However, this makes the moments when it does break through all the more striking.
Selfridges X Fromm Studio
Despite its reduced visibility, illustration still offers unique advantages. Distinctiveness is the obvious one because, in a sea of photography-led campaigns, an illustrated execution can stand out immediately.
Illustration also stretches ideas. Ali Augur, art director and long-time commissioner of illustrators for TfL, explains: "It allows you to go where photography can't. You can bend, warp, and exaggerate. Colour plays a stronger role, and illustrators can throw colour around in a way that photographers can't."
Illustration lends itself to toolkits and world-building as well. A suite of characters, icons or modular assets can flex across OOH, social and motion, giving brands a distinctive, ownable language. Jelly's Leah Airey points to Selfridges' recent activations with Fromm Studio, where illustration was rolled out across seasonal campaigns, from in-store animations to digital comms.
"It moved the needle by taking illustration out of its box and really expanding where it can be consumed," she says. "Hosting illustration in a luxury setting is exciting 每 it pushes perception and delightfully surprises people."
Cyberflashing campaign - Genie Espinosa x Grey London. Credit: Brook
Then there's an element of tactility that you simply can't replicate in other media. Lee Bofkin, co-founder of Global Street Art, believes that the impact of illustration is magnified in physical form.
"Murals are different because they're actually cool 每 someone went to the Herculean effort to paint your message on a wall," he says. "Costly signalling matters: the harder the message is to produce, the more it's remembered and trusted."
Nike's mural of Mbapp谷, hand-painted by Global Street Art and later shared by the player to millions of followers, is a prime example.
TfL 25th Anniversary Campaign
If illustration has such clear benefits, why do agencies and brands hesitate? Several factors recurred when we asked the experts.
At the top of the list has to be the perceived risk, as some clients view illustration as "niche" or too youthful. Airey calls this a misconception, saying: "Children's publishing might be what people think of first, but global brands like Headspace, Google, and Herm豕s use illustration daily."
Another prominent excuse is timelines and procurement, as illustration can require more upfront concepting and approvals than photography. Kill fees, usage rights, and licensing can also deter procurement teams accustomed to commissioning photography.
Playing it 'safe' is often more appealing for brands and, as Augur notes, advertising is "awash with photography." For overstretched teams, especially, the default is often to reach for familiar solutions.
Last but certainly not least is the confusion around what AI is and what it's not. With the rise of generative tools, clients sometimes assume that illustration can be automated cheaply, but as Airey argues, AI output often requires repair in post, creating additional delays and costs. "Accelerating to a place of required repair isn't quicker or cheaper 每 it's a blocker."
Nike Mbapp谷 mural (Global Street Art)
When collaborations succeed, they often begin with clarity. Kirstie Johnstone, senior art buyer, explains: "Honest conversations from the outset are essential. The client needs to respect that the illustrator was selected because of what they bring, which can be transformative for the brand. At the same time, the illustrator has to be open to feedback."
She stresses the importance of structure, which involves thorough briefs, a clear understanding of what WIPs look like, and a stage where the agency and illustrator align before presenting the work to the client.
Budget transparency is equally key. Illustration can be leaner than photography 每 often just one person drawing versus a crew on set 每 but timelines must be realistic. Airey says: "Some illustrators work incredibly quickly, but only if feedback moves just as fast. Bringing us in earlier warms us up for when the green light comes on."
The creative relationship is just as important as all the above. "Both feet in," Airey says. "The projects we love most are where everyone has skin in the game. Trust the illustrator's creative muscle, not just their ability to deliver.
Harvey Nichols x Jacky Marshall
Despite its ups and downs, the mood among contributors is optimistic. Illustration is adapting, not fading.
Augur sees opportunities in motion: "Add a touch of animation and its reach extends even further. In a digital landscape, illustration can give real standout, especially when paired with bold colour." Apple content designer Alfie Wheatley highlights how illustrators are increasingly creative partners rather than just executors. He says, "The most successful illustrators now are acting more like creative directors.
"They come up with ideas, explain them, and bring unexpected twists. It's refreshing to see more than just illustrating the obvious."
Expect to see more hybrid projects, ranging from AR filters to illustrated environments, and more illustrators taking on multidisciplinary roles. Brands will also continue to lean on illustration for areas that require abstraction, such as emotions, health, and technology, where photography struggles.
Illustration may not be the default language of advertising today, but perhaps that's its strength. In a landscape saturated with photos and film, illustrated campaigns can cut through precisely because they are unexpected.
"Illustration can have a youthful, playful energy, sure, but it can also be cinematic, luxe, full of gravitas," says Airey. "It can stretch and muddy the lines of craft, and that's where it gets exciting."
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Foundry ?terna by The Foundry Types
Looking for type inspiration this autumn? Then check out our curated selection of the month's most compelling new releases.
Autumn is a time of renewal, and it's natural for designers to start looking further afield for new fonts. Thankfully, this month has delivered a bumper harvest of typographic innovation to expand your options.
The standout theme this September has been the marriage of historical reverence with contemporary functionality. Some of our favourite foundries have taken iconic designs and expanded their reach; whether through multiscript development, variable font technology, or carefully considered optical sizing. Others, meanwhile, have chosen to forge entirely new paths, crafting typefaces that prioritise personality and warmth over clinical neutrality.
So whether you're seeking a workhorse grotesque for extensive branding systems, an expressive display face for impactful headlines, or something with distinctly European character, read on and discover eight new releases that could help bring your creative projects to life.
Marking a century of Futura, designed by Paul Renner and released in 1927, Futura 100 represents an ambitious reimagining of the iconic geometric sans-serif for modern global communications. TypeTogether's extensive two-year collaboration with Bauer Types has resulted in a multiscript typeface that supports 23 writing systems, covering over 90% of the world's population.
Futura 100 maintains Renner's constructed shapes and warm spirit whilst addressing contemporary digital publishing requirements through optimised readability and flexibility across devices. This first phase includes Arabic, Armenian, Cyrillic, Georgian, Greek, Hebrew, Khmer, Lao, Latin, Myanmar, PanAfrican Latin, and Thai scripts. With major Indic scripts, Simplified Chinese and Hangul to come, Futura 100 promises to become one of the few truly global typefaces.
GT Era deliberately shuns the algorithmic neutrality of contemporary grotesques, instead drawing inspiration from the warm, idiosyncratic character of pre-modernist designs such as Breite Fette Grotesk, Venus, and early Akzidenz Grotesk. Thierry Blancpain's design for Grilli Type also embraces friction, championing recognition over uniformity and flavour over conformity.
The family comprises Display and Text styles with matching obliques, connected through an optical size axis. Unlike typical optical sizing that makes subtle technical adjustments, GT Era offers genuinely different levels of expressiveness; the Display echoing bold historical personalities whilst the Text performs comfortably in reading applications and digital interfaces.
This approach creates a design system that provides both maximal display impact and utilitarian functionality, celebrating the texture and character that modern design often sanitises away.
Foundry Aeterna is a neo-grotesk typeface with a workhorse aesthetic. Responding to what David Quay, one of the principals of the Foundry Types, describes as the "persistent reliance on ubiquitous, overused Neo-Grotesk typefaces," this font isn't just another revival, but a thoughtful synthesis of modernist principles for the digital age.
The design prioritises clarity through harmonious letterforms, a large x-height and compact spacing. Distinctive details include subtly extended terminals on A, C, G, and S, as well as horizontal shaping on A, F, J, T, and Y; quiet expressions of the font's contemporary character that avoid the sterile uniformity of many geometric sans-serifs.
Alongside the typeface, Foundry Aeterna includes over 290 icons and symbols, designed to support a broad range of applications, from transport and user interfaces to information systems and wayfinding. The Symbol set is built on the typeface's capital height, aligned to the baseline, and centrally spaced for seamless integration.
Urbolyt is a variable font that represents a clash between geometric rigour and organic forms. Each letter is described as raw architecture where razor-sharp angles meet unpredictable curves. Characters like N, A and M rise like concrete skyscrapers, whilst X, C and E breathe with natural movement.
This constant tension between solidity and delicacy creates a singular identity that would be a good choice for impactful headlines, brand logos and event posters. The variable version ranges from 75% to 150% width, enabling designers to sculpt word density and transform headlines into visual manifestos. Overall, this font would be a suitable choice for any design project that requires a strong and memorable visual identity.
From the Val豕ncia-based errorerror.studio comes EE Piscina, a modular typeface that, in the words of designers Paloma + Luismi, "brings hints of pool water and aftersun, tastes like ice-cold lemonade and smells like freshly cut grass". Available in three styles (S, M, and L), this release represents the duo's focus on "creating another type of types".
Rather than pursuing neutrality, Paloma + Luismi prioritise storytelling and soul in their typographic work. EE Piscina, in turn, embodies their philosophy of creating typefaces that carry emotional resonance beyond mere functionality; described as "a fan-blown breeze for overheated designers". In more practical terms, the font's modular construction offers flexibility whilst maintaining distinctive character, positioning EE Piscina as an antidote to algorithmic design thinking.
Haas Unica was created in 1980 as a response to licensing restrictions around Helvetica. It's regarded by many as the pinnacle of modernist type design, but it gradually disappeared in parallel with the decline of phototypesetting. Now, LL Unica77 represents its authorised digital revival.
Remastered by original Team '77 member Christian Mengelt from their own drawings, and developed in collaboration with specialist designers, LL Unica77 includes a fully condensed family, rich OpenType features, stylistic sets, full Cyrillic and Greek support, and a fully variable counterpart with three axes for weight, width and slant manipulation.
Born from a classroom exercise using an 8℅8 pixel grid, Djaggety celebrates the beauty of productive constraints and the creative potential found within rigid systems. What began as a teaching tool〞where students must build working alphabets using only simple modules〞evolved into a three-style display family that embraces rather than refines its inherent coarseness.
The typeface's charm lies in its acceptance of systematic limitations. Every letterform emerges from the same pixel module, creating unexpected quirks and formal solutions that would be impossible through traditional design approaches. Instead of smoothing away these irregularities, Typeland has expanded the concept, allowing the grid's influence to generate character rather than constrain it.
Djaggety's development process reveals fascinating insights into contemporary type design practice. Kerning becomes a maze of compromises when working within such strict parameters, forcing decisions between maintaining character-defining details (like distinctive tails) and achieving rhythmic consistency. The result demonstrates how digital constraints can generate a distinctive personality, offering designers a modular system that's both expressive and deliberately unruly.
Designed by Jakob Runge and Antonia Cornelius, Gregory Grotesk strikes a balance between distinctive personality and functional reliability, creating a charismatic typeface that works well in both branding and UI design. It's a great demonstration of how contemporary grotesques can maintain character whilst delivering the smooth texture expected from system fonts.
Gregory's personality emerges through charming quirks embedded within solid structural foundations. Top-heavy letterforms combine with rounded inner corners at angular junctions, creating a handmade patina that humanises digital environments. These trapped-ink effects reference wood type printing traditions whilst serving contemporary aesthetic sensibilities.
The typeface's technical specifications support ambitious typography, featuring 24 individual styles that span compressed to normal widths across typical weight ranges, unified within a single variable font. With Greek and Cyrillic scripts approved by native designers and support for over 270 languages, Gregory Grotesk demonstrates how personality-driven design can maintain global functionality.
It's fast becoming the go-to brand for gluten-free pizza, and it's just unveiled a bold new look, celebrating Italian heritage and inclusivity.
London-based agency Deuce Studio has unveiled a striking new identity and packaging system for White Rabbit Pizza Co., the fast-growing gluten-free pizza brand on a mission to become the UK's number one.
Founded by two friends who met while working at the White Rabbit pub in Oxford, the brand has grown into a major supermarket challenger, now stocked nationwide. However, with rapid growth came a challenge: the old packaging no longer accurately reflected White Rabbit's authenticity or ambition.
"White Rabbit isn't just about pizza, it's about bringing people together over food everyone can enjoy. Our role was to ensure the new identity captured that inclusivity and Italian authenticity in a way that resonates on supermarket shelves," explains Richard Patrick, creative director at Deuce.
The refreshed identity puts Italian provenance front and centre, celebrating co-founder Teo's Bergamo roots as well as authentic ingredients sourced directly from Italy. It also highlights White Rabbit's unique positioning as a dedicated gluten-free bakery... not just a brand with gluten-free options. That's a Creative Boom sentiment we can happily tuck into.
To showcase the craft behind the product, the design draws attention to the brand's 24-hour sourdough proving process and signature charred crusts, inspiring the new tagline: 'Crafted Without Compromise'.
On pack, the logo now stands prouder in all caps, while a premium yet approachable navy replaces the former dark palette. Refined typography, handwritten details, and vibrant type accents bring warmth and personality, supported by mouth-watering new photography. A new set of icons and callouts 每 including a bold gluten-free badge 每 ensures clarity on the shelf. And the little rabbit emblem now hops confidently to centre stage rather than hiding in the wings.
We also love all the OOH campaign messaging, such as 'Made without gluten, but always with love'. Or accompanying totes that read, 'In crust, we trust'. The result feels bold, confident, and every inch the market leader it aspires to be.
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Image licensed via Adobe Stock
Clear, consistent communication is the quiet superpower of every successful freelancer. It builds trust, keeps projects on track and turns one-off jobs into relationships that last for years. Ignore it, and even the best work won't save you.
Ask any creative freelancer what keeps the lights on and you'll hear the usual suspects: a killer portfolio and enviable network... perhaps a knack for ideas that win awards. All of these things matter. But none of them will save you if you fail at the one skill that separates those who thrive from those who disappear. And that's communication.
After more than two decades of running my own ventures, I've seen the same pattern play out. The designers, photographers, and illustrators who keep clients for years aren't always the most gifted. They're the ones who stay in touch. Who set expectations. Who respect a client's time as much as their own. It sounds simple, but it's the difference between a one-off gig and a relationship that lasts for decades.
Here's a brutal truth many creatives don't want to hear. If a client is chasing you for an update, you're doing something seriously wrong.
That single email, "Hey, just wondering if you've had a chance to look at this?", is a flashing red light. It means you've left them guessing. And when someone is paying you to solve a problem, guessing feels like a breach of trust.
I've been on the other side of that silence. It's infuriating. And it's why one of our ventures still works with some of the same clients we landed over twenty years ago. We never disappear. Even when a project is delayed, we explain the reason and provide a revised timescale. Nine times out of ten, clients understand. What they won't forgive is being left in the dark.
Clients aren't emailing to be annoying. They have their own deadlines and their own bosses breathing down their necks. A simple "Got your files! I'll have feedback to you by Friday" might feel trivial, but it's a pressure valve.
It tells them you're on top of things. And it gives them something to pass up the chain. More than anything, it shows you respect the fact that their world doesn't revolve around your creative process.
Clear expectations are the cheapest client-retention strategy you'll ever find. Spell out when you'll deliver, when you'll be available, and how you'll handle delays. Put it in writing. Repeat if needed. You'll keep more clients with one well-timed email than any brilliant work you produce. Trust me.
It's tempting to think you'll "just remember" to check in. But life gets messy when you're juggling multiple projects. That's when silence creeps in and relationships start to wobble. The answer is a simple communication system.
This doesn't have to be fancy. Maybe it's an automated project-management tool that pings updates. Maybe it's a weekly email to every client, even if the update is "still waiting on feedback". What matters is consistency. Clients aren't looking for constant hand-holding. They're looking for predictability. They want to know you won't vanish. And that you care about their business as much as they do.
Two people come to mind whenever I think about brilliant client communication. First, Stuart Watson of Nomad. He once told me that client relationships are everything. He treats every client like they're the most important person in the world. He bends over backwards, checks in constantly, and nurtures those connections long after the invoice is paid. That attitude is why Nomad's clients stay.
Then there's James Ede of Be Heard, who has edited my podcast for almost six years. When I send him audio, he replies the same day to acknowledge receipt and gives me a delivery date. Sometimes it's a week away. I don't care. I know the timescale, and I trust he'll meet it; I can then plan my own deadlines around his. That tiny courtesy 每 a quick "got it, here's when you'll have it back" 每 is gold.
Good communication isn't about buying time or dressing up excuses. It's about respect. Respect for the people funding your creative life. Respect for their own pressures and deadlines. And respect for the relationship you're building together.
Yes, great work gets you noticed. But great communication keeps you booked. Clients will forgive delays. They will not forgive silence. Treat them like partners. Tell them what's happening. Set expectations and stick to them.
Do that consistently, and you won't just win projects, you'll build a freelance career that lasts.
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The design heavyweight steps into the presidency with a mission to guide the organisation through a time of massive cultural shifts, emerging technologies and new opportunities for creative talent everywhere.
Lisa Smith has been named the new President of D&AD for 2025/2026, bringing one of the world's most respected design leaders to the helm of the global non-profit.
Based in New York, Lisa takes on the role at a pivotal time for the creative industries, succeeding Kwame Taylor-Hayford and signalling D&AD's commitment to both its international growth and its mission to celebrate outstanding creative work and nurture emerging talent.
A long-time D&AD award winner, advisory board member and trustee, Lisa is already deeply connected to the organisation and its Shift programme 每 the free night school that helps self-made creatives break into the industry.
Her appointment reflects D&AD's belief in the power of design to drive change at a moment when creativity is being reshaped by technology, culture and the collapse of traditional boundaries between disciplines.
Alongside her new role, Lisa recently joined Uncommon Creative Studio as Global Chief Design Officer, where she is helping embed design at the heart of the agency's culture and output. Even in this short time, she has already influenced major projects, drawing on a career built on bold, high-profile work.
Before joining Uncommon, she held senior creative leadership roles at Jones Knowles Ritchie, where she drove global rebrands for notable clients such as Walmart, Burger King, Paramount, and Uber 每 work that earned her numerous awards and a spot on Fast Company's Most Creative People list in 2021.
In taking on the presidency, Lisa acknowledges the scale of change facing the industry. "There's a fundamental transformation happening 每 driven by emerging technologies, shifting cultural dynamics, and a redefinition of what 'creativity' even means," she says. "The industry must embrace adaptability over tradition, invest in continuous learning, champion non-linear talent pathways, and foster more inclusive, cross-functional collaboration."
D&AD Chairman Tim Lindsay describes her as "an exceptional blend of experience, creativity, and leadership," praising her ability to bridge the worlds of design, advertising and brand. With Lisa at the helm, D&AD enters its next chapter with a leader whose career proves that design can drive business growth, spark culture and remain unmistakably human."
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Studio Roses 每 Neue Montreal by Pangram Pangram
We asked the creative community about the fonts they're keen to get their hands on. Read on to find out how they responded.
Don't you just love how typography is constantly evolving? Because let's be clear: foundries around the world are pushing the boundaries of the discipline every day of the week. And that doesn't just mean crafting brand-new typefaces, but also breathing new life into timeless classics.
There's just one problem: with all the incredible font releases out there, it's easy for some to slip under the radar. Which is exactly why we reached out to the Creative Boom community to find out which fonts they're buzzing about for 2026. Wisdom of crowds and all that.
You'll find the results below: 50 popular typefaces that graphic designers look likely to make strong use of in the year to come. It's a heady fusion of retro vibes and modern functionality, from elegant serifs being reimagined for the digital age to bold, expressive sans-serifs ready to make a serious splash in branding and editorial design.
Interestingly, our survey revealed a ton of old favourites. This is something we're seeing a lot of across the creative community 每 a return to familiar territory. Perhaps it's a comfort thing during challenging times. Who knows?
Either way, whether you're looking to refresh your go-to collection or searching for new type to bring your latest project to life, you're sure to find some exciting options below. Enjoy!
GT America aims to bridge 19th-century American Gothics with 20th century European Neo-Grotesk traditions, and take the finest design features from both. In practice, it proves remarkably versatile, and works well across both corporate identity systems and editorial applications. Designed by No?l Leu with Seb McLauchlan, this comprehensive family offers 84 styles, with extensive script extensions developed alongside Tania Chacana.
Sight Lines: Women in Art in Aotearoa by Studio Katie Kerr GT America by Grilli Type
Kris Sowersby's S?hne captures the memory of Akzidenz-Grotesk, filtered through Helvetica's influence, and specifically evokes the analogue feel of Standard Medium as used in New York's subway signage. But rather than being a direct revival, Sowersby has created something more nuanced: a typeface that channels the confident boldness of those classic grotesques, while feeling utterly contemporary at the same time. Built from the semibold weight outward, it includes condensed, wide and monospaced variants.
S?hne by Klim Type Foundry
An "emphatically vanilla" editorial workhorse, Graphik has become one of Commercial Type's most popular releases. This hybrid typeface combines geometric sans-serif roundness with European grotesk architecture and proportions, while avoiding the baggage of more dogmatic modernist alternatives. Its low contrast, open counters and compact descenders make it a good choice for tight editorial settings, whilst human touches such as round dots mean it also works well for display.
Mark Bloom and Joe Leadbeater's Aeonik presents itself as a neo-grotesque with geometric foundations, achieving mechanical precision through strict perpendicular terminals, whilst maintaining warmth through its rounded letterforms. Its eight weights, from Air to Black, are enhanced by variable font technology and since launching in 2021, it's become a favourite for global brands including Revolut, Eurosport, Alipay and Virgin Hyperloop.
Aeonik by CoType Foundry
Aeonik by CoType Foundry
Mat Desjardins created Neue Montreal in 2018 as a versatile grotesque with the spirit of a display font. Inspired by the Canadian city that became a beacon of modernist design in the 1960s and 1970s〞a place where graphic design wasn*t just a profession, but a cultural force〞this timeless sans-serif has been the official typeface of football club Montreal FC since 2021. It's available in 14 weights.
Joan Creative 每 Neue Montreal by Pangram Pangram
Originally developed for photography magazine Hotshoe in 2012, Basis Grotesque drew inspiration from Akzidenz and early Monotype grotesques. But it's since been refined towards something more considered and shapely. The family's skeletal consistency across weights creates a sense of unity, whilst allowing each style to develop its own personality, from Light through to Black.
Maison Neue is a complete reconstruction of the original Maison family, moving beyond the latter's rigid geometric construction towards greater optical refinement. This superfamily of 40 styles includes the original, subtly condensed version, an extended counterpart, and mono-spaced alignment, each with additional weights.
ABC Favorit is a straightforward yet characterful grotesque that combines geometric rigidity with subtle oddities and humorous touches. Designed by Johannes Breyer and Fabian Harb, it's available in five weights with italics, along with extended and expanded variants. Smart underlines create unconventional letter shapes, whilst script extensions cover Greek, Cyrillic, Hangul and Arabic.
Favorit by Dinamo Typefaces GmbH
Favorit by Dinamo Typefaces GmbH
Appearing in three versions since its birth in 2016, Lucas Sharp's Sharp Grotesk Global has evolved from hand-drawn poster lettering into Sharp Type's most comprehensive superfamily. Featuring 12 weights and seven widths across Roman and Italic styles, with extensions in Greek, Cyrillic, Hangul and Thai, this font balances modernist rigour with hand-drawn imperfection.
With a name that references the pre-digital typesetting machines that influenced its design, Diatype is a warm yet sharp grotesque that's optimised for screen reading. Created by Johannes Breyer and Fabian Harb, this font captures the essence of Swiss Neo-grotesque tradition whilst addressing the needs of contemporary digital type. Its careful balance between warmth and precision makes it particularly effective for extended reading applications, across various digital platforms.
Diatype by Dinamo Typefaces GmbH
Diatype by Dinamo Typefaces GmbH
Initiated by Duncan Forbes and developed by Kris Sowersby, Founders Grotesk is less of a strict historical revival and more a thoughtful amalgamation of early 20th century grotesque traditions. Drawing primarily from Millar & Richard's Grotesque series and H.W. Caslon's Doric, its design captures appealing historical quirks whilst discarding outdated awkwardness. The family has recently expanded to include Text, Condensed, X-Condensed and Mono versions. Each of these is optimised for specific applications, from punchy headlines to robust body copy.
Aper?u originally emerged from Colophon Foundry's ambition to create a contemporary synthesis of classic realist typefaces, including Johnston, Gill Sans, Neuzeit and Franklin Gothic. Since its 2010 release, this 16-style family has been adopted by MoMA, Burberry and the Walker Art Center. Its success highlights how thoughtful amalgamation of historical references can create something both familiar and contemporary.
TypeType's flagship release, TT Norms Pro offers a high degree of versatility through its comprehensive 104-style collection, which spans five widths and support for over 280 languages. Able to function both as a neutral workhorse and distinctive accent typeface, it's been adopted by global brands including ASUS, AliExpress and DreamWorks. The latest version includes enhanced stylistic sets and alternative character forms based on user research and customisation requests.
Rasmus Andersson's Inter has achieved remarkable ubiquity across digital interfaces, from computer applications to NASA instrumentation. This open-source workhorse features over 2,000 glyphs covering 147 languages, with three dedicated designs at weights 100, 400 and 900 ensuring quality across its range. Its use of variable font tech allows seamless adjustment from text to display optical sizes, whilst features such as contextual alternates and ink traps further optimise legibility.
No?l Leu's GT Walsheim is a geometric sans serif that draws inspiration from the 1930s lettering of Swiss poster designer Otto Baumberger. Its ability to balance geometric construction with friendliness and warmth makes it particularly effective for modern branding applications. The family's expansion includes condensed widths and comprehensive Cyrillic support, which has been designed with cultural sensitivity rather than mere transliteration.
Avala by Play Studio GT Walsheim by Grilli Type
GT Walsheim by Grilli Type
Replica demonstrates how systematic constraints can generate distinctive character in a typeface. Constructed on a deliberately reduced 70-unit grid rather than the standard 700 units, this bold sans-serif features bevelled corners that function as negative ink traps and vertical diagonal cuts that enable extremely tight setting. Overall, this font manages to retain its Middle-European sans-serif DNA whilst offering subtly altered personality through its rigorous geometric restrictions.
Replica by Lineto
Replica by Lineto
Launched alongside Lineto's groundbreaking website in 2004, the static construction of Laurenz Brunner's LL Akkurat embodies Swiss values of technical precision, reliability and neutrality without ever attempting to be "trendy". The family has since expanded to include script support covering Cyrillic, Greek, Hebrew, Arabic, Devanagari and Vietnamese.
Akkurat by Lineto
Laurenz Brunner's second major release, LL Circular offers a sophisticated take on the geometric grotesque tradition established by Erbar, Renner and Koch in pre-war Germany. Evolved from its purely geometric origins during its 2008-2013 development, this font now balances conceptual rigour with warmth and measured idiosyncrasy, and is popular across editorial, advertising and branding contexts.
Circular by Lineto
Suisse Int'l positions itself as the definitive digital Swiss Grotesk, its modernist objectivity embodying the International Typographic Style that emerged from Basel and Z邦rich in the 1950s. This 18-style collection spans from delicate Hairline to forceful Black weights, all with matching italics and comprehensive Latin, Cyrillic and Arabic support.
Suisse Int'l by Swiss Typefaces
Named after the founder of geometry, Euclid comprises five collections (Flex, Circular A, Circular B, Square and Triangle) that share a fundamental construction whilst offering a variety of expressive qualities. Each collection maintains a level of geometric purity, whilst providing subtly different typographic voices within the broader geometric tradition.
Euclid by Swiss Typefaces
Featuring some of Commercial Type's narrowest, widest and heaviest designs to date, Berton Hasebe's Druk is a study in typographic extremes. Deliberately conceived without normal widths or lighter weights, it starts at Medium and goes up to Super. Originally commissioned as a companion to Neue Haas Grotesk, this font demonstrates remarkable versatility, with all three widths offering bold expressive possibilities.
Designed by Christian Schwartz and Paul Barnes, Publico emerged out of the development process for The Guardian's 2005 redesign before finding its final form in Mark Porter and Simon Esterson's redesign of P迆blico in Lisbon. Originally named Ha?ienda after Manchester's iconic nightclub, this font shares skeletal forms with the Guardian typeface, making it an ideal companion family.
Kai Bernau's Lyon Text began as the centrepiece of his Type + Media degree project at KABK, then underwent extensive revision before debuting in the New York Times Magazine in 2009. Drawing from Robert Granjon's Renaissance mastery whilst maintaining its contemporary relevance, this font balances elegance with anonymous functionality. This is a good choice for print publications that require both beauty and legibility.
Originally designed for long-form magazine Reportagen, GT Sectra combines broad nib pen calligraphy with surgical precision. Dominik Huber and Marc Kappeler's design translates sharp cuts and angular tension into a contemporary serif with robust text colour and pragmatic proportions. And its three subfamilies〞GT Sectra, GT Sectra Fine, and GT Sectra Display〞create a versatile system, spanning everything from delicate text through to extreme large-scale applications.
GT Sectra by Grilli Type
Berton Hasebe's Portrait collection offers a sharply minimalist interpretation of French Renaissance typography, combining classical proportions with triangular Latin serifs. This brings a fresh perspective to nearly 500-year-old forms; the most unabashedly contemporary approach among Commercial Type's various Renaissance interpretations. The collection spans four families; offering everything from sober display elegance through warm textural sparkle to exuberant condensed and inline variants.
Starting life as a Caslon interpretation before evolving in unexpected directions, Miguel Reyes' Canela occupies an intriguing space between sans and serif. By shedding the face's serifs and leaving only vestigial flaring at the ends of strokes, Miguel arrived at a monumental quality influenced by his experience with stone carving. This font's sober elegance ranges from delicate lightness with gentle flares, to warm confidence in its heaviest weights.
Originally derived from a logo for Aussie wine brand Hardys, Kris Sowersby's Domaine has since evolved into a sharp, elegant serif that masterfully blends French and British type traditions. Its curvaceous Latin detailing centres on gently bracketed triangular serifs with hooked terminals, whilst horizontal head serifs provide stability for the figurative elements to shine. Today it spans 46 styles across two optical sizes.
The Tiempos Collection reinterprets the editorial strengths of Plantin and Times New Roman for the needs of contemporary publishing. Originally developed for a Spanish newspaper, this font prioritises economy and legibility through shorter ascenders and descenders, larger x-height and tighter spacing. The family expands into Tiempos Headline for display applications and Tiempos Fine for refined editorial work.
National 2 represents a decade-long overhaul of Kris Sowersby's National, with every letter redrawn for better proportions, smoother curves and refined spacing. Expanding from the original single width to four variants (Regular, Narrow, Condensed, and Compressed) across 64 fonts, it maintains its predecessor's approachable, workmanlike character whilst improving web typography and practical functionality.
Reto Moser's GT Alpina proudly embraces the idea of the workhorse serif whilst delighting in expressive historical details. The 70-font family, developed over eight years from its origins in Swiss Alpine research documentation, balances utility with personality through lively details such as angled contrast, ball terminals and distinctive letterforms.
Museu Terra by Clase GT Alpina by Grilli Type
GT Alpina by Grilli Type
GT Flexa embraces variable fonts as a fundamental principle rather than a mere technical addition. Designers Dominik Huber and Marc Kappeler spent six years developing its 112-style system, which is built on three axes: Weight, Width, and Italic. Combining simple yet sturdy construction with minimal stroke contrast ensures performance across extreme states, while its visible ink traps maintain typographic colour in challenging settings.
Zeughausmarkt by Studio am Meer GT Flexa by Grilli Type
Frans Hals exhibition at the Gem?ldegalerie in Berlin by Ta-Trung GT Flexa by Grilli Type
Marc Kappeler and Dominik Huber's GT Pressura uses ink spreading under pressure as both inspiration and stylistic device, bringing analogue printing aesthetics to digital typography. Its constructivist roots and utilitarian character make it particularly effective for projects requiring both functional efficiency and a sense of personality. The 2022 update expanded the family across Mono, Standard and Extended widths, with improved spacing and extended language support.
GT Pressura by Grilli Type
Designed by Lucas Sharp with Connor Davenport in 2018, Beatrice is a great choice for editorial design. Built upon American Gothic foundations, with tight-not-touching spacing, this superfamily spans four optical sizes, from the high-contrast Beatrice Display through to the low-contrast Beatrice Standard.
Lucas Sharp and Connor Davenport's Ogg was inspired by 20th century book designer Oscar Ogg's calligraphy and captures his unique mix of hand-carved pen nibs, brushes and white-out correction techniques. Signature moves found throughout Ogg's calligraphic works are explored, exaggerated and refined in this high-contrast type design, which bridges historical craft with contemporary typographic needs in an original way.
Josh Finklea's Centra series approaches geometric sans-serif design through aesthetic rather than strictly formal considerations, prioritising texture and readability over conceptual rationale. Centra No.1 embodies the humanist approach, with classic vertical shears reminiscent of Roman capital construction within a geometric framework, drawing inspiration from British touchstones like Gill Sans and Johnston's New Rail Alphabet whilst offering contemporary utility and restraint.
Obviously evolved from vintage postcard-inspired lettering into a comprehensive display family, through a challenging development process that nearly overwhelmed its creator James Edmondson. Originally conceived as extremely bold, distorted letters for containing illustrations, over time the font has matured into a more versatile workhorse whilst retaining its unique character.
Alebrijes by Shivani Parasnis using Obviously by Oh No Type Co., Art Director, Brand & Creative〞Spotify
Hobeaux is James Edmondson's reinterpretation of the classic Hobo typeface; transforming what began as humorous exploration into a refined five-weight family. James was drawn to Hobo's lack of straight lines and right angles, seeing them as refreshing alternatives to cold, modern precision. The resulting design includes improved curves, descender alternates, multiple figure styles and clever OpenType features. Edmondson describes it as a font for those with "kindness in their hearts and adventure in their souls".
Eckmannpsych emerged from James Edmondson's fascination with 1960s psychedelic poster artists who adapted Art Nouveau styles. Beginning as tour poster lettering for Vulfpeck, the typeface was developed through Future Fonts and has evolved to include optical size axes, lowercase letters, and more practical alternates whilst maintaining its psychedelic character.
Greta Text addresses the specific demands of newspaper printing through three optical sizes. The Text cuts are designed for the main text (8-11pt), display cuts are for headlines (14-21pt) and Grande is designed for the largest titles, mastheads and eye-catching graphics. Its careful consideration of newspaper typography requirements〞smaller capitals for reduced text disruption, proportioned numerals for frequent use, and forms resistant to high-speed printing distortion〞making it very practical for contemporary editorial.
Greta Text by Typotheque
Fedra Sans aims to reconcile the rigidity required for screen typography with the flexibility of handwriting, resulting in a humanised sans serif that works equally well on paper and digital displays. Its characteristics〞including prolonged 'f', open numerals and diamond-shaped dots〞can be removed through alternative versions for different levels of personality. Applications include airport signage, car navigation systems and Bible typesetting.
Fedra Sans by Typotheque
Veronika Burian and Jos谷 Scaglione's Adelle was conceived specifically for intensive editorial use in newspapers, magazines and online applications. Its intermediate weights deliver neutral appearance in text sizes whilst revealing personality through measured particularities at larger scales. The condensed series provides space-saving solutions without compromising legibility, whilst the family's superior screen rendering and cross-platform consistency have established it as a popular web font choice.
Jos谷 Scaglione and Veronika Burian designed Karmina to withstand challenging printing conditions including low-quality papers, high-speed web presses and variable ink levels. Its large serifs, sharp shapes, calligraphic influences and strategic ink traps work together to maintain legibility under adverse conditions. The combination of large x-height with compressed letterforms optimises space-saving whilst the italic weights capitalise on calligraphic styling.
Joshua Darden's Freight Collection is one of modern typography's most comprehensive integrated systems, spanning 192 fonts across multiple subfamilies, from Big through Round variants. Inspired by the warmth and pragmatism of 18th century Dutch typefaces, the collection balances bold daring with quiet subtlety.
Josh Darden's Jubilat explores the history of the slab serif in six weights, with generous curves and efficient spacing in both dimensions. Its large lowercase and high contrast make it particularly suitable for headlines, decks, and sidebars, whilst its Clarendon-style classification connects it to established typographic traditions. The family's 24 styles support 409 languages.
A powerhouse grotesque, Aktiv Grotesk represents 15 years of development by Bruno Maag and his team. With Weight, Width, and Italic variable font axes and supporting 10 global writing systems, with extensive icon sets, it's a strong choice for projects requiring comprehensive language coverage.
Designed in 1996, Mrs Eaves marked Zuzana Licko's first foray into traditional serif design. Inspired by John Baskerville's 1757 transitional typeface, she based her design on printed specimens rather than lead type, reducing contrast and widening lowercase proportions for greater warmth and readability. Its slightly eccentric character〞awkward-looking W, wide L, and pronounced flares〞gives the typeface a charm that defies rigid categorisation. A good choice for book covers, short blurbs and editorial design.
ABC Monument Grotesk, designed by Kasper-Florio and Dinamo, revives the compact skeletons and sharp strokes of Palmer & Rey's 1884 specimen books for contemporary design. Honest and unrefined, its idiosyncratic forms exude a confident yet approachable energy. It's available in seven weights including Italic, Mono, and Semi-Mono cuts, as well as Heavy and Black with corresponding italics.
Monument Grotesk by Dinamo Typefaces GmbH
Monument Grotesk by Dinamo Typefaces GmbH
Boasting a mid-90s retro sensibility, fused with contemporary crispness, Editorial New is a precise, elegant, narrow serif designed for long-form content. Lighter weights are refined and delicate (ideal for fashion and lifestyle publications), while the regular weight ensures legibility across longer texts. Heavier weights, paired with lush, curvy italics, deliver impactful display typography.
Editorial New by Pangram Pangram
Established NYC 每 Editorial New by Pangram Pangram
Monument Extended takes the commanding geometry of Monument and amplifies it into one of Pangram Pangram's most adaptable families. Inspired by Brutalism, this font has the structural confidence and typographic flexibility to scale from ultra-condensed headlines to wide-format displays, bridging branding, editorial, and interface applications. It includes five widths and nine weights per width, with both upright and italic styles.
Zak Agency 每 Monument Extended by Pangram Pangram
Roobert is a mono-linear, geometric sans serif distinguished by clean terminals and smooth stem connections. Originally crafted for the music and technology festival Moogfest and inspired by the Moog logotype, its "bent pipe" motif subtly echoes throughout the design, Roobert is a good choice for interfaces, branding and digital experiences that demand clarity, rhythm and technical sophistication.
Roobert by Displaay Type Foundry