Having collaborated with both small businesses and global brands like Nike, BBC, and Squarespace, do you find yourself approaching scale differently depending on the client?
In some ways it’s the same, in other ways it’s different. The goal is always to create work that answers the brief, connects with the right people, and pushes the culture forward. But context matters; designing an identity for a small café and leading a global rebrand are worlds apart in terms of process and what ‘success’ looks like. With a smaller brand you can often lean into character and immediacy more, as you’re working with less and speaking to fewer people. With something like a global rebrand, you’re usually speaking to a much broader audience, with a much larger set of decision-makers, so that usually means a lot more perspectives and priorities to balance. Personally, I find that they can both be really rewarding, but in different ways.
You’ve worked in settings where both precision and big ideas are valued. How has that shaped the way you define your own design language today?
Honestly, I find it hard to draw a circle around my own design language. With brand designers especially, I find there’s often this inherent tension with how we think about our work. On one hand, we try hard to steer clear from having a ‘specific style’ to let the conceptual challenge of a project guide the aesthetic. On the other hand, we tend to have very strong opinions on what differentiates good work from great work. Which, often comes down to taste. Context, culture, craft—they’re always changing.
That said, one thing that I do always look to balance is a sense of character and clarity. For me, great visual design is distinct enough, and simple enough, to easily capture and recall. If it’s too complicated, it risks being misinterpreted. If there’s no character to it, it risks not being engaged with at all.
Another inherent tension that I try to instil in much of the work that I do is balance the familiar with the unfamiliar. Work that really resonates needs something about it that is a little bit abrasive—but also not so foreign that it feels impossible to embrace. Something that feels both familiar, and contextually surprising.