Q & A WITH GAIL ANDERSON

Step Inside Design, Nov/Dec 2004 by Heller, Steven

GA: We've had some absolute home runs squashed by a single comment, and that can be frustrating. At times it's even painful. But there's a constant stream of new shows, so you just move on to the next one. I've been designing for 20 years now, so it's not the end of the world. I think it's a little harder for the young designers I work with, so part of my job is to keep them from losing heart when the piece they love never gets beyond a large Epson print. And we try not to massage our designs too much in the sketch stage so we don't get too attached. Once I reached that epiphany, it became easier to let the tough stuff roll off. But every now and then, if I were a screamer, I'd be howling. I think I'm more of a crybaby, so I just sulk.

SH: Frankly, ever since SpotCo came on the scene with the poster for Rent, before you arrived, I've seen a big improvement in the quality of design and type. What are two of your most successful theater posters and why?

GA: Some of the stuff I love right now is sitting in limbo, waiting for the shows to move to Broadway. Waiting is a little painful, since there's always the chance the show won't happen or the producers might want to rethink the direction we've chosen for the art. But sometimes a little distance is good for everyone involved in the process. The success of the art is often tied in with the success of the show; in retrospect, people think the art is brilliant if the show is a hit. That's Drew's theory, and now that I've been at it a few years, I totally agree.

There are pieces I'm especially fond of, like the subway poster tot Harlem Song, perhaps because it was the first thing I designed at SpotCo, and I was so jazzed about seeing my work up big. The art for The Good Body, the new Eve Ensler [The Vagina Monologues] show about women and body image, felt like it struck just the right chord with its Isabelle Dervaux line drawing and the ice cream scoop breasts we added. And I was really happy with the Avenue & subway/puppet fur logo. It gave you a nice little hint of what was in store for you in the show.

SH: Tour work exhibits a wry wit and humor. How do you make funny design? I know that's not as easy as asking how you make meat loaf, but what do you do?

GA: I'm definitely wittier on paper than in real life. I think I approach the work looking for a little wink where I can, because deep down I hope people associate clever with smart. Or maybe in the end, I still subscribe to Ronn Campisi's fish-wrap theory. If I think of it as disposable, I'm less likely to fear experimenting a little. I'll just tense up.

SH: Well, if it is so disposable, then do you ever feel like it's also trivial? Is there a moment or two when it seems silly to move type and pictures around on a page?

GA: While I know I'm not curing cancer, I've also come to see that what we do as designers is really important. Design is everywhere, sometimes lurking in the background, but often right there, front and center, and it persuades people to read stories, see shows, choose a restaurant, or make a purchase. But the first time you see something you labored over crushed up on the sidewalk, you do realize, "OK, I can't take this too seriously, or my heart will be broken on a regular basis." If I can make the process less daunting for myself, then I hope I can create work that's even a little unexpected or at least fun.