Graphic Journey Blog

Déjà vu.

Marina Willer RDI Photo Pentagram

I recently interviewed the talented graphic designer and filmmaker Marina Willer RDI. She has recently celebrated ten years as a Pentagram partner at their London studio. It was the much-loved Tate Gallery identity project, designed in 1999, that brought her to the notice of the design world. It was to become one of many projects she was responsible for while at the London-based branding agency, Wolff Olins, a company she worked at for thirteen years. Listen to her fascinating story from her idyllic childhood in Brazil to Royal Designer for Industry and everything in between. Listen HERE

This is Simon Esterson RDI, art director, co-owner and publisher of Eye magazine. It has gained a reputation as the world’s most beautiful and collectable graphic design journal. It recently published its 102nd edition since its launch in 1990. I recently had the great pleasure of recording an interview with Simon for my RDInsights podcast series that features Royal Designers for Industry. So sit back and listen to this fascinating story of a man who had a single-minded vision of his professional destiny at an extremely young age. Click on the link below to hear the interview. 

RDInsights Esterson NEW FILE 20 Feb 2022 (39)

 

An ad popped up in my email yesterday: This is what it said...

Thousands of free book cover templates. No design skills needed!

Followed by “Are you stuck trying to make a book cover design for your fantastic thriller, romantic comedy, science fiction, or any other genre? Choose from a huge range of eye-catching book cover templates and get your creative juices flowing.”

I then looked at some results from these “cover templates”. They all had that predictable formulaic blandness; like many of the book cover snaps I’ve taken on my regular visits to the Waterstones bookstore, with their table displays.

So, to all those publishing sales department dictators, who love telling the poor freelance jacket designers exactly what they want on a cover, can now dispense with them altogether and just download the, ‘create it yourself ‘app for a monthly fee of $24.

But seriously it is worrying for designers who inhabit the publishing world for their living. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the increasingly less discerning publishing houses are already using these kind of oven ready cover apps.

But thank goodness there are still designers producing delightful and original work without the usual demands of BIG type, a plethora of quotes and shout lines, shoved into the design brief by the sales department bods. 

Along with an increasingly diminishing group of 'thinking' designers, Kelly Blair is one of them whose work is beautiful, intelligent and thought-provoking, and seems, on many occasions, to be able to circumnavigate the usual demands.                        Take a look...

.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Royal Mail has issued a set of 6 stamps featuring original designs from their archive by David Gentlemen RDI. They are in celebration his outstanding contribution to the development of modern British stamp design from the 1960s to the present. In 2010 I recorded a candid interview with him about his life and work. (See link at foot) Here are four of the six.

To hear the interview click HERE

 

 

 

 

Keith Cunningham in the late 1960s, courtesy Bobby Hillson

Back in 2001, I interviewed the graphic designer Keith Cunningham as part of a series I was working on for Design Week magazine. During the time I spent with Cunningham, I discovered that he had a closely guarded secret. Tucked away in a warehouse not far from his flat in Battersea was a locked room filled with over one hundred carefully covered canvases. These were paintings that Cunningham had created during his time at the Royal College of Art from 1954 to 1960.

Cunningham working on the painting shown (below) at his studio the early 1960s, courtesy Bobby Hillson

At the time, he exhibited at the Royal Academy’s Summer Exhibition, the Beaux-Arts Gallery and, for two consecutive years, the prestigious London Group show; this culminated in Cunningham being asked to submit work for full membership to the group – he declined. He then made the extraordinary decision to withdraw completely from any further public exhibition of his paintings. Instead, he worked in the solitary atmosphere of his studio in Battersea, where he would travel each day to work on his canvases.

As a result, all of the work created in that studio didn’t see the light of day for over four decades. Cunningham supported himself by teaching graphics at the London College of Printing, and many of his students would become significant figures in the design and advertising world. The discovery of the paintings formed part of the Design Week feature, and it was picked up by a little magazine called VERY. They asked if I could write a piece about Cunningham’s paintings.

Keith Cunningham died in 2014. Out of the blue, I had a call from a man who said he had all of Cunningham’s work stored in the basement of another warehouse. That warehouse turned out to be at the end of my street in Clerkenwell. The man who had the paintings was Stephen Rothholz, an accessories designer whose father, Hans Arnold Rothholz, was a well-known graphic designer in the early 1950s. Stephen was trying to help Cunningham’s widow Bobby Hillson to organise an exhibition of his paintings. Bobby was a fashion illustrator, former designer of children's clothing, and founder of the Saint Martin's School of Art MA Fashion and was the person responsible for discovering designer Alexander McQueen. She wanted to try and do something that had never happened in Keith’s lifetime: stage a solo exhibition of his work.

Stephen asked if I could help, so we put our heads together, determined to make it happen somehow. Through Facebook, I started to make contact with as many alumni of the London College of Printing from the 1960s to 1980s as possible, where Keith had taught graphics. Via Facebook, I reached out to anyone whom Keith might have taught and asked if they would help fund the show. Slowly but surely, money started to come in, along with affectionate memories of Keith as a tutor. A disused and slightly crumbling post office was found as a venue for the show. Stephen busied himself getting all the canvases cleaned, photographed and framed. Meanwhile, I designed and wrote the catalogue introduction. We then looked at what could be done to cheer up the empty post office space. With little money and the help of two of my daughters and several friends, it came together.

Two of my daughters who helped at the Hoxton Gallery. Fleur on the left and Jemima on the right, with my granddaughter, Yoko centre, during the run of the 2016 show of Cunningham's work.

In August 2016, the show happened. It was covered by the press and well attended, including by Frank Auerbach, who had attended the Royal College of Art and been good friends with Keith. Eighteen paintings were beautifully framed, hung and lit. It looked wonderful and half of the paintings sold; those that didn’t went back to the warehouse, to be stacked with the others that were not shown. Happily, we were able to fulfil Bobby’s wish, and she was thrilled to have Keith’s work finally shown.

So, that was it, I thought – job done. But a few months later, Stephen phoned to say that there was a sudden interest in the remaining paintings, and it looked highly likely that an art institution would acquire the whole lot. At the time, I was not allowed to reveal the institution. But now I can because over 70 of Keith Cunningham’s paintings will be on display in a solo show: Keith Cunningham: The Cloud of Witness at Damien Hirst’s Newport Street Gallery , Newport Street, London SE11 6AJ from 16 February to 21 August. All are welcome to come to the press opening tomorrow 15th February between 6pm to 8pm. No RSVP required.

Thus ends a story that started 21 years ago with an interview and my probing and curiosity in discovering what Cunningham had done beyond his graphic work. But it would not have happened without the designers and supporters (you know who you are) who gave me money to help stage that little show in a semi-derelict Hoxton post office in 2016. Look at what your help has contributed to. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

To read the original 2001 Design Week interview with Keith Cunningham click HERE. 

To all my readers and passers-by, have a very safe time wherever you may be.

Nicholas Thirkell 1942 - 2021

The sad news came earlier this month of the death of Nicholas Thirkell, my old business partner, colleague and friend. I’d known him since the late 1960s, when we were both art directors in the publishing world. I was impressed with what he was doing over at Macmillan, so we met for a drink. Nick (as I always called him) cut a rather dashing figure: he was tall and rather aloof, with a well honed RP accent – think BBC continuity department and you’ll have it.

But disrupting that sophisticated image was his passionate habit. He could often be seen smoking rollups created from a little pouch he kept in his pocket and I always felt he would be a man better suited to the more sedate period of the 1950s; I imagined him frequenting the gentlemen’s clubs of St James’s.

Creatively, it was another story. Nick was extraordinarily talented as a designer and art director, with an uncanny ability to recognise great emerging talent, especially illustrators. We had a friendly rivalry through our love of book cover design, and our output found its way onto the pages of the D&AD annuals from the 1960s onwards. (At the time I was the art director of William Heinemann Publishers).

The Design Centre (London) exhibition of book jackets 1970. From left to right, designers, Brian Grimbly, Priya Kuriako, Nicholas Thirkell, Mike Dempsey and Derek Holmes.

In 1970, we were invited by the Design Council to stage an exhibition of our collective output from our respective publishing houses and, following on from that, a wonderful piece in the prestigious Gebrauchsgrafik magazine.

Book cover, designed as a two-sided enlarged train ticket, with a die-cut hole to reveal the title.

Nick was also an astute businessman and in 1970 struck a deal with Macmillan to enable him to set up an independent design group that would service not only Macmillan but also other publishers and the commercial world at large. He named the group Nicholas Thirkell Associates, found offices in London’s Victoria and brought in George Hardie and Bob Lawrie before later hiring Bush Hollyhead and Malcolm Harrison straight from College. They proved to be a highly talented group of individuals.

“a great and uncompromising designer who took ideas to their ultimate expression even if they required technical innovations by the printers.

“He also gave many designers, illustrators and photographers their first opportunities”.

Bob Lawrie, NTA designer and illustrator from 1970-1977

Cover design for Macmillan publishers1969

An astonishing array of work was produced in this period and it started to make waves in the graphic world. But after only three years, Nick decided to leave, having become disillusioned with running a design group with its dull administrative duties. He had the urge to travel.

Nick set off with his wife Priya and spent 15 months following the well-trodden Indian hippy trail, leaving the remaining studio members to take over the company. They all went on to great things.

When Nick eventually returned from his travels, he retrained as a teacher, but quickly lost a taste for that when confronted by a classroom of unruly, spotty teenagers. He returned to publishing for a while and then set up another design company, disbanded that and set up yet another, Cooper Thirkell, where he produced some classically beautiful work, culminating in a D&AD Gold Award in 1986 for the V&A Colour Books. I was at the awards dinner that night and invited Nick for lunch. From that conversation he joined Carroll & Dempsey – slap bang in the middle of an economic downturn.

From left to right: Ken Carroll, Mike Dempsey and Nicholas Thirkell 1986

V&A Colour Books, 1988

For us, this was a new beginning, and we looked forward to exciting times. He arrived complete with assistants in tow. There is always uneasiness when new folk enter a well-established nest, and it has to be said that Nick looked more suited to the world of banking or academia than design. Looking back now, it must have been difficult for him to make his presence felt, in a company where the two existing partners were so closely linked.

The funny side to this was our different working approaches. Both Ken Carroll and I were very hands on, often pasting up or physically making rough mock-ups. Meanwhile, Nick would sit at his desk, creating tiny sketches with equally tiny written instructions. He would wander down the studio in his favourite Savile Row suit, which used to belong to his father, lean over one of his assistants and have a quiet chat; he would then return to his desk, roll up a cigarette and go outside for a smoke.

“Nick was a sharp-minded, talented, generous and intelligent designer and he was, to my huge benefit, my mentor for many of the 15 years I was at  Carroll, Dempsey & Thirkell/CDT.

“His inquisitive, thoughtful approach coupled with his typographic craft was passed on to so many that worked with him”.

Ian Crockart, CDT designer and associate from 1987-2002

Barbican: Russian style exhibition catalogue

Branding for Our Price 1993

Nick had brought with him an important project with a horrific deadline. The Independent was to be the first serious broadsheet newspaper for 150 years. Two of the paper’s journalists, Geoffrey Chancellor and Nicholas Garland, were both disappointed with the printed dummy proposals designed before they had arrived on the scene. The proposed appearance was mid-market, akin to the Daily Express in feel – certainly not what they had expected.

Chancellor had remarked to Editor Andreas Whittam Smith, “I thought we were joining a serious paper.” Garland contacted Nick and asked him to produce a new design at breakneck speed, as publication day was a matter of weeks away.

And so that was the studio’s first introduction to Nick, amid a blur of activity, with each of us taking responsibility for a section of the paper. Nick discarded the idea of colour because he felt the print quality was not good enough at that time. Instead, he proposed the notion of high-quality black-and-white photojournalism. This was set against an understated typographical backdrop with a distinctly literary feel.

At the presentation, The Independent’s editor, Andreas Whittam Smith, aggressively turned the pages of the dummy, becoming increasingly red in the face – he hated the design. Nick left disappointed and dejected. But the next day, Garland called and explained that they’d had a change of heart. It was full steam ahead. Nick went on to oversee the launch of the paper, which became an instant success and was shortlisted for the first BBC Design Awards in 1986. Not long after, Nick went on to design The Independent on Sunday, along with its beautiful large-format colour supplement.

V&A daybook on Indian animal art, 1990.

“Nick always seemed to live life on the wing; he had a thirst to absorb as much of it as possible and this experience gave him a discerning eye when it came to design. Despite being on the move, he always took a moment to see if you were ok”.

Rebecca Foster, CDT designer from 1993-1996

The Independent projects had bedded Nick into the company and things fell into place, including respect for our different working methods. Nick was responsible for a stream of wonderful, immaculate work while at Carroll, Dempsey & Thirkell (later shortened to CDT) for the likes of Arthur Andersen, the Barbican, WHSmith, Our Price, Royal Mail, the V&A and many more. By 1993, Carroll, Dempsey & Thirkell was the number one design consultancy in four separate categories of Design Week’s annual design survey.

Royal Mail stamps (Top) Dogs 1991 (Bottom) Christmas 1992

“Nicholas Thirkell was one among the most reliably superb graphic designers who worked for me, and for WH Smith when, with Sir Simon Hornby’s leadership and my guidance as their design advisor, Smiths were a brand that brought the joy and wit of exemplary design to the British public,” according to Michael Wolff, who was a design advisor to WH Smith at the time.

He adds, “Always thoughtful – as well as creative, always persuasive – as well as humble, Nick produced inspiring work that many thousands of people loved, bought and enjoyed.

Above all, Nick was a gentle, sympathetic and impeccable gentleman. Few today have his patience and his quiet and genuine courtesy”.

Michael Wolff design advisor to WH Smith at the time.

Nick was not a man to blow his own trumpet – that just wouldn’t do at all. I remember when he arranged a studio party at his house in Putney. I arrived rather early and found Nick in the garden, wellingtons on, sleeves rolled up, digging out a massive bamboo plant while puffing away on a beloved roll-up. I realised then that this was what he loved: getting hands on and dirty in the garden, rather than in the studio. It became his passion. In the late 1990s, he’d had enough of the cut and thrust of the design world and, with no party and no fuss, he quietly retired.

For more about NTA click HERE

Marina Willer: A Colourful Life

Marina Willer RDI Photo Pentagram

I recently interviewed the talented graphic designer and filmmaker Marina Willer RDI. She has recently celebrated ten years as a Pentagram partner at their London studio. It was the much-loved Tate Gallery identity project, designed in 1999, that brought her to the notice of the design world. It was to become one of many projects she was responsible for while at the London-based branding agency, Wolff Olins, a company she worked at for thirteen years. Listen to her fascinating story from her idyllic childhood in Brazil to Royal Designer for Industry and everything in between. Listen HERE

Simon Esterson: A Passion for Print

This is Simon Esterson RDI, art director, co-owner and publisher of Eye magazine. It has gained a reputation as the world’s most beautiful and collectable graphic design journal. It recently published its 102nd edition since its launch in 1990. I recently had the great pleasure of recording an interview with Simon for my RDInsights podcast series that features Royal Designers for Industry. So sit back and listen to this fascinating story of a man who had a single-minded vision of his professional destiny at an extremely young age. Click on the link below to hear the interview. 

RDInsights Esterson NEW FILE 20 Feb 2022 (39)

 

No design skills needed: They've got you covered.

An ad popped up in my email yesterday: This is what it said...

Thousands of free book cover templates. No design skills needed!

Followed by “Are you stuck trying to make a book cover design for your fantastic thriller, romantic comedy, science fiction, or any other genre? Choose from a huge range of eye-catching book cover templates and get your creative juices flowing.”

I then looked at some results from these “cover templates”. They all had that predictable formulaic blandness; like many of the book cover snaps I’ve taken on my regular visits to the Waterstones bookstore, with their table displays.

So, to all those publishing sales department dictators, who love telling the poor freelance jacket designers exactly what they want on a cover, can now dispense with them altogether and just download the, ‘create it yourself ‘app for a monthly fee of $24.

But seriously it is worrying for designers who inhabit the publishing world for their living. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the increasingly less discerning publishing houses are already using these kind of oven ready cover apps.

But thank goodness there are still designers producing delightful and original work without the usual demands of BIG type, a plethora of quotes and shout lines, shoved into the design brief by the sales department bods. 

Along with an increasingly diminishing group of 'thinking' designers, Kelly Blair is one of them whose work is beautiful, intelligent and thought-provoking, and seems, on many occasions, to be able to circumnavigate the usual demands.                        Take a look...

.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

David Gentleman: Stamp of Approval

Royal Mail has issued a set of 6 stamps featuring original designs from their archive by David Gentlemen RDI. They are in celebration his outstanding contribution to the development of modern British stamp design from the 1960s to the present. In 2010 I recorded a candid interview with him about his life and work. (See link at foot) Here are four of the six.

To hear the interview click HERE

 

 

 

 

Keith Cunningham: The final chapter

Keith Cunningham in the late 1960s, courtesy Bobby Hillson

Back in 2001, I interviewed the graphic designer Keith Cunningham as part of a series I was working on for Design Week magazine. During the time I spent with Cunningham, I discovered that he had a closely guarded secret. Tucked away in a warehouse not far from his flat in Battersea was a locked room filled with over one hundred carefully covered canvases. These were paintings that Cunningham had created during his time at the Royal College of Art from 1954 to 1960.

Cunningham working on the painting shown (below) at his studio the early 1960s, courtesy Bobby Hillson

At the time, he exhibited at the Royal Academy’s Summer Exhibition, the Beaux-Arts Gallery and, for two consecutive years, the prestigious London Group show; this culminated in Cunningham being asked to submit work for full membership to the group – he declined. He then made the extraordinary decision to withdraw completely from any further public exhibition of his paintings. Instead, he worked in the solitary atmosphere of his studio in Battersea, where he would travel each day to work on his canvases.

As a result, all of the work created in that studio didn’t see the light of day for over four decades. Cunningham supported himself by teaching graphics at the London College of Printing, and many of his students would become significant figures in the design and advertising world. The discovery of the paintings formed part of the Design Week feature, and it was picked up by a little magazine called VERY. They asked if I could write a piece about Cunningham’s paintings.

Keith Cunningham died in 2014. Out of the blue, I had a call from a man who said he had all of Cunningham’s work stored in the basement of another warehouse. That warehouse turned out to be at the end of my street in Clerkenwell. The man who had the paintings was Stephen Rothholz, an accessories designer whose father, Hans Arnold Rothholz, was a well-known graphic designer in the early 1950s. Stephen was trying to help Cunningham’s widow Bobby Hillson to organise an exhibition of his paintings. Bobby was a fashion illustrator, former designer of children's clothing, and founder of the Saint Martin's School of Art MA Fashion and was the person responsible for discovering designer Alexander McQueen. She wanted to try and do something that had never happened in Keith’s lifetime: stage a solo exhibition of his work.

Stephen asked if I could help, so we put our heads together, determined to make it happen somehow. Through Facebook, I started to make contact with as many alumni of the London College of Printing from the 1960s to 1980s as possible, where Keith had taught graphics. Via Facebook, I reached out to anyone whom Keith might have taught and asked if they would help fund the show. Slowly but surely, money started to come in, along with affectionate memories of Keith as a tutor. A disused and slightly crumbling post office was found as a venue for the show. Stephen busied himself getting all the canvases cleaned, photographed and framed. Meanwhile, I designed and wrote the catalogue introduction. We then looked at what could be done to cheer up the empty post office space. With little money and the help of two of my daughters and several friends, it came together.

Two of my daughters who helped at the Hoxton Gallery. Fleur on the left and Jemima on the right, with my granddaughter, Yoko centre, during the run of the 2016 show of Cunningham's work.

In August 2016, the show happened. It was covered by the press and well attended, including by Frank Auerbach, who had attended the Royal College of Art and been good friends with Keith. Eighteen paintings were beautifully framed, hung and lit. It looked wonderful and half of the paintings sold; those that didn’t went back to the warehouse, to be stacked with the others that were not shown. Happily, we were able to fulfil Bobby’s wish, and she was thrilled to have Keith’s work finally shown.

So, that was it, I thought – job done. But a few months later, Stephen phoned to say that there was a sudden interest in the remaining paintings, and it looked highly likely that an art institution would acquire the whole lot. At the time, I was not allowed to reveal the institution. But now I can because over 70 of Keith Cunningham’s paintings will be on display in a solo show: Keith Cunningham: The Cloud of Witness at Damien Hirst’s Newport Street Gallery , Newport Street, London SE11 6AJ from 16 February to 21 August. All are welcome to come to the press opening tomorrow 15th February between 6pm to 8pm. No RSVP required.

Thus ends a story that started 21 years ago with an interview and my probing and curiosity in discovering what Cunningham had done beyond his graphic work. But it would not have happened without the designers and supporters (you know who you are) who gave me money to help stage that little show in a semi-derelict Hoxton post office in 2016. Look at what your help has contributed to. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

To read the original 2001 Design Week interview with Keith Cunningham click HERE. 

The year ahead,

The year ahead.

Greetings

To all my readers and passers-by, have a very safe time wherever you may be.

Nicholas Thirkell: The Quiet Perfectionist

Nicholas Thirkell 1942 - 2021

The sad news came earlier this month of the death of Nicholas Thirkell, my old business partner, colleague and friend. I’d known him since the late 1960s, when we were both art directors in the publishing world. I was impressed with what he was doing over at Macmillan, so we met for a drink. Nick (as I always called him) cut a rather dashing figure: he was tall and rather aloof, with a well honed RP accent – think BBC continuity department and you’ll have it.

But disrupting that sophisticated image was his passionate habit. He could often be seen smoking rollups created from a little pouch he kept in his pocket and I always felt he would be a man better suited to the more sedate period of the 1950s; I imagined him frequenting the gentlemen’s clubs of St James’s.

Creatively, it was another story. Nick was extraordinarily talented as a designer and art director, with an uncanny ability to recognise great emerging talent, especially illustrators. We had a friendly rivalry through our love of book cover design, and our output found its way onto the pages of the D&AD annuals from the 1960s onwards. (At the time I was the art director of William Heinemann Publishers).

The Design Centre (London) exhibition of book jackets 1970. From left to right, designers, Brian Grimbly, Priya Kuriako, Nicholas Thirkell, Mike Dempsey and Derek Holmes.

In 1970, we were invited by the Design Council to stage an exhibition of our collective output from our respective publishing houses and, following on from that, a wonderful piece in the prestigious Gebrauchsgrafik magazine.

Book cover, designed as a two-sided enlarged train ticket, with a die-cut hole to reveal the title.

Nick was also an astute businessman and in 1970 struck a deal with Macmillan to enable him to set up an independent design group that would service not only Macmillan but also other publishers and the commercial world at large. He named the group Nicholas Thirkell Associates, found offices in London’s Victoria and brought in George Hardie and Bob Lawrie before later hiring Bush Hollyhead and Malcolm Harrison straight from College. They proved to be a highly talented group of individuals.

“a great and uncompromising designer who took ideas to their ultimate expression even if they required technical innovations by the printers.

“He also gave many designers, illustrators and photographers their first opportunities”.

Bob Lawrie, NTA designer and illustrator from 1970-1977

Cover design for Macmillan publishers1969

An astonishing array of work was produced in this period and it started to make waves in the graphic world. But after only three years, Nick decided to leave, having become disillusioned with running a design group with its dull administrative duties. He had the urge to travel.

Nick set off with his wife Priya and spent 15 months following the well-trodden Indian hippy trail, leaving the remaining studio members to take over the company. They all went on to great things.

When Nick eventually returned from his travels, he retrained as a teacher, but quickly lost a taste for that when confronted by a classroom of unruly, spotty teenagers. He returned to publishing for a while and then set up another design company, disbanded that and set up yet another, Cooper Thirkell, where he produced some classically beautiful work, culminating in a D&AD Gold Award in 1986 for the V&A Colour Books. I was at the awards dinner that night and invited Nick for lunch. From that conversation he joined Carroll & Dempsey – slap bang in the middle of an economic downturn.

From left to right: Ken Carroll, Mike Dempsey and Nicholas Thirkell 1986

V&A Colour Books, 1988

For us, this was a new beginning, and we looked forward to exciting times. He arrived complete with assistants in tow. There is always uneasiness when new folk enter a well-established nest, and it has to be said that Nick looked more suited to the world of banking or academia than design. Looking back now, it must have been difficult for him to make his presence felt, in a company where the two existing partners were so closely linked.

The funny side to this was our different working approaches. Both Ken Carroll and I were very hands on, often pasting up or physically making rough mock-ups. Meanwhile, Nick would sit at his desk, creating tiny sketches with equally tiny written instructions. He would wander down the studio in his favourite Savile Row suit, which used to belong to his father, lean over one of his assistants and have a quiet chat; he would then return to his desk, roll up a cigarette and go outside for a smoke.

“Nick was a sharp-minded, talented, generous and intelligent designer and he was, to my huge benefit, my mentor for many of the 15 years I was at  Carroll, Dempsey & Thirkell/CDT.

“His inquisitive, thoughtful approach coupled with his typographic craft was passed on to so many that worked with him”.

Ian Crockart, CDT designer and associate from 1987-2002

Barbican: Russian style exhibition catalogue

Branding for Our Price 1993

Nick had brought with him an important project with a horrific deadline. The Independent was to be the first serious broadsheet newspaper for 150 years. Two of the paper’s journalists, Geoffrey Chancellor and Nicholas Garland, were both disappointed with the printed dummy proposals designed before they had arrived on the scene. The proposed appearance was mid-market, akin to the Daily Express in feel – certainly not what they had expected.

Chancellor had remarked to Editor Andreas Whittam Smith, “I thought we were joining a serious paper.” Garland contacted Nick and asked him to produce a new design at breakneck speed, as publication day was a matter of weeks away.

And so that was the studio’s first introduction to Nick, amid a blur of activity, with each of us taking responsibility for a section of the paper. Nick discarded the idea of colour because he felt the print quality was not good enough at that time. Instead, he proposed the notion of high-quality black-and-white photojournalism. This was set against an understated typographical backdrop with a distinctly literary feel.

At the presentation, The Independent’s editor, Andreas Whittam Smith, aggressively turned the pages of the dummy, becoming increasingly red in the face – he hated the design. Nick left disappointed and dejected. But the next day, Garland called and explained that they’d had a change of heart. It was full steam ahead. Nick went on to oversee the launch of the paper, which became an instant success and was shortlisted for the first BBC Design Awards in 1986. Not long after, Nick went on to design The Independent on Sunday, along with its beautiful large-format colour supplement.

V&A daybook on Indian animal art, 1990.

“Nick always seemed to live life on the wing; he had a thirst to absorb as much of it as possible and this experience gave him a discerning eye when it came to design. Despite being on the move, he always took a moment to see if you were ok”.

Rebecca Foster, CDT designer from 1993-1996

The Independent projects had bedded Nick into the company and things fell into place, including respect for our different working methods. Nick was responsible for a stream of wonderful, immaculate work while at Carroll, Dempsey & Thirkell (later shortened to CDT) for the likes of Arthur Andersen, the Barbican, WHSmith, Our Price, Royal Mail, the V&A and many more. By 1993, Carroll, Dempsey & Thirkell was the number one design consultancy in four separate categories of Design Week’s annual design survey.

Royal Mail stamps (Top) Dogs 1991 (Bottom) Christmas 1992

“Nicholas Thirkell was one among the most reliably superb graphic designers who worked for me, and for WH Smith when, with Sir Simon Hornby’s leadership and my guidance as their design advisor, Smiths were a brand that brought the joy and wit of exemplary design to the British public,” according to Michael Wolff, who was a design advisor to WH Smith at the time.

He adds, “Always thoughtful – as well as creative, always persuasive – as well as humble, Nick produced inspiring work that many thousands of people loved, bought and enjoyed.

Above all, Nick was a gentle, sympathetic and impeccable gentleman. Few today have his patience and his quiet and genuine courtesy”.

Michael Wolff design advisor to WH Smith at the time.

Nick was not a man to blow his own trumpet – that just wouldn’t do at all. I remember when he arranged a studio party at his house in Putney. I arrived rather early and found Nick in the garden, wellingtons on, sleeves rolled up, digging out a massive bamboo plant while puffing away on a beloved roll-up. I realised then that this was what he loved: getting hands on and dirty in the garden, rather than in the studio. It became his passion. In the late 1990s, he’d had enough of the cut and thrust of the design world and, with no party and no fuss, he quietly retired.

For more about NTA click HERE