There have been numerous tributes in the wake of legendary producer and engineer Steve Albini’s death last week, at the age of 61. Some exhaustively trace his history in iconic Chicago bands like Big Black and Shellac — or his unique production work for bands like Nirvana (“In Utero”), the Breeders, PJ Harvey, Bush, and scores of others. Most detail his notoriously acerbic candor, often about bands he’d recorded. (Steve on the Pixies: “Never have I seen four cows more anxious to be led around by their nose rings.”) And most mention “The Problem with Music,” his oft-quoted 1993 Baffler screed — still spot-on roughly 30 years later — that likens signing with a major record label to swimming backwards through a trench filled with runny shit. (It gets less complimentary from there.)
Steve Albini with Lil Bub, the magical space cat, at Electrical Audio.
The phrase “fucked-up and photocopied” is often used to
describe the aesthetic of punk graphics. Imagine visuals that have been chopped,
warped, repeated, inverted, and so on, until the meaning becomes distorted and
new. While the work of the late designer Vaughan Oliver grew in increasing
complexity over the course of his long career, it always retained a certain
roughness and the spark, the grit of the imperfect. That fucked-up-ness, if you
will. As he himself said of his work with the Pixies (perhaps the band that he
will be most associated with, despite working with a broad spectrum of
musicians, artists and clients): “You imagine designing sleeves for your own
record collection. The David Lynchian moods in there, the black humor, the
surrealism — there’s such natural inspiration for me.”
1) Vaughan Oliver as a young man. 2) 4AD PMT experiment 3) Vaughan + Bruce Gilbert (Wire) at the ICA, 1993. (Photo by me) 4) Vaughan and a skirt of eels.
Natural? Or unnatural? Either way, Vaughan never looked to the usual sources to draw inspiration. (And his weapon was often the now-obsolete PMT camera, a crucial ally in making beautiful accidents with type and texture.) “I would take something from Vaughan’s experience and his body of work and think about what happens when you step away from the computer and when you use your hands,” Vaughan’s peer, Adrian Shaughnessy, has noted. “Vaughan certainly advocated the use of hands in his teaching. And I suspect, deep down, he actually regretted the computerization of graphic design. Keep in mind that a lot of the best work was done manually.”
Shaughnessy was just one of the speakers reflecting on the work and legacy of Vaughan Oliver at the Glasshouse (formerly the Sage Gateshead) in Newcastle, UK, on September 14. Vaughan’s v23 colleagues, Chris Bigg and Timothy O’Donnell, also delved deep into their memories of their close-knit, challenging and fruitful collaboration at 4AD, where Vaughan served as the in-house designer for 20 years. The audience represented a wide swath of musicians, designers and photographers whose careers and working methods were forever warped, thanks to their work with the formidable V.O. Attendees included Miki Berenyi from Lush, Anja Huwe and Manuela Zwingman from Xmal Deutschland, artist Russell Mills, photographers Dominic Davies and Kevin Westenberg, Glen Johnson from Piano Magic, and Vaughan’s family, to name but a few. (The lecture also marked the inauguration of the Vaughan Oliver Graphic Design Scholarships, a 10-year initiative supported by 4AD to provide opportunities for talented students to study design at Vaughan’s alma mater, Northumbria University.)
Graphic design legend Vaughan Oliver (4AD/v23) passed away on December 29, 2019 at the age of 62.
Early on Sunday, December 29, Adrian Shaughnessy of Unit Editions announced, “My friend and design hero Vaughan Oliver died peacefully today, with his partner Lee by his side. Vaughan Oliver, 1957-2019.”
I had a moment of intense disbelief, followed by the ludicrous hope that it was a sick joke of some kind. As the news sank in, I still couldn’t believe it — intense, profane, puckish Vaughan, one of if not THE iconic designer of the 1990s (sorry, Carson, it ain’t you) — was gone far too soon.
