Annie Vainshtein
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So much beauty can be found in junk.
At least Portland-based freelance graphic designer Aaron Draplin thinks so. Draplin’s work is on display at the University Art Gallery until Feb. 6.
Draplin has worked with all sorts of companies — everything from Patagonia to Nike to Sub Pop Records. He said his design mantra emphasizes function over fashion.
Draplin’s career as a graphic designer began about 15 years ago. He was born and raised in Detroit, but at age 19 he moved to Oregon to work with snowboarders and be “living like an animal.”
After the icy hiatus, he moved back to the Midwest, finished up his art degree, started making graphics and logos and quickly found he was getting a lot of buzz.
“I knew I had to do something pragmatic and I wanted to do something with art, but a bit of a trade,” Draplin said. “Fine art was a little scary, a little too free-wheeling — and even though I could draw and paint and it was my hobby, design felt practical. I could get a job.”
And so he did. He was inspired by the beauty of banality: dying logos, typography, the beauty you find in junk.
“I tried to utilize the simple utilitarian beauty that I saw from dead things,” Draplin said.
Draplin described the ephemerality of style and how often simple processes — things that were appropriate and effective — go out of style because people are more concerned with keeping up with the “latest, coolest thing.”
“Things change, society changes, art changes, and you see things drop off and die off because people want something different,” Draplin said. “But simplicity is beautiful because it’s free of any sort of whimsical, low-hanging fruit.”
And so he challenges the notion that clarification isn’t beautiful. A spectrum exists between too much and too little, and he hopes to always reside somewhere in the middle.
“There’s always going to be some grad student over-conceptualizing something and this boring shit at the end of it,” Draplin said. “But it’s not my job to make things provocative, it’s my job to make them be effective.”
Take working with Patagonia, the outdoor clothing company, for example. Draplin said Patagonia appreciated the functionality of its product over any unnecessary novelty and it didn’t compromise that sentiment for the sake of a fancy logo.
Draplin, who is somewhat of a born cynic, noticed the strong ethical backbone of the company and found its dedication to doing the right thing surprising and quite impressive.
“It’s really interesting to me because that’s not what making money’s all about,” he said. “If someone can cut a corner, they will.”
Draplin loves what he does, and it’s incredibly apparent. But beyond laboring over fonts and colors, sizes and shapes, he lives for the completion of a task. He lives to get the job done and to “make the client happy.”
He’s 41 but still feels 15 — especially when he’s thinking about the utility of art.
“I’m so new to the world,” Draplin said. “It’s amazing to me that 20 years ago, there was something in fashion, but now they just damaged it and chewed it all up because it never had to go there.”
Draplin’s been working like a maniac for the past 15 years, and according to him, he’s taken on too many projects.
“You get a point where you don’t even need the money, because if you’re always working you’re not spending it,” he said. “But I’ll never stop working — that wouldn’t feel right.”
And for young artists? Draplin has just a few pieces of advice.
“Try not to be afraid of the world, number one.” he said. “You’re going to have to work. That shouldn’t be a surprise. Embrace that reality and be a good, ethical worker.”
And what if the person you work for isn’t ethical? Then work just long enough until you can quit.
According to University Art Gallery coordinator Jeff Van Kleeck, Draplin’s warmth comes across not only from his art and designs but from the way he speaks and deals with clients.
“He drives to do really good work for the things he believes in,” Van Kleeck said. “He shows us that you don’t have to sell your soul down the river to get a paycheck.”
Van Kleeck said people tend to forget that fact.
“We’re all worried about what we’re gonna do with our career — going down the rabbit hole of chasing the almighty dollar,” Van Kleeck said. “I think he’s shown us a different path.”