First Job
I was once the assistant to the art director for a Van Halen world tour.
I was 9.
Okay, it wasn’t a real job in the sense that I wasn’t actually paid. However, it was my first experience witnessing, and being a small part of, the creative process in a professional setting.
But first a little background: one of my mother’s oldest friends is the renown poster artist David Edward Byrd. For those who are unfamiliar, in the 1960’s David was the art director of the Fillmore East where he created many iconic posters for Bill Graham’s East Coast venue. His poster for Jimi Hendrix’s 1968 concert is considered one of the best examples of the rock poster genre. In the 1970’s David became one of the most sought-after poster artists for Broadway shows including those for “Follies,” “Godspell,” and “Jesus Christ Superstar,” among others. David is a bit of a “Forrest Gump” who has popped up at various cultural intersections of the late 20th century: he designed the trolly that took Mr. Rogers to the Land of Make Believe; he created the original poster for Woodstock (which he attended); he helped KISS perfect their make-up when they were breaking out; and he illustrated several famous TV Guide covers that made their way to your parent’s coffee table. Later, he was Sr. Illustrator for Warner Brothers consumer products, working on projects ranging from Bugs Bunny to Harry Potter.
At the midpoint of his career, David transitioned to the West Coast. He left the excitement of the artist’s lofts of pre-gentrified SoHo to stay with us, at my childhood home, in our 1,300 sq. ft. house in the middle of the San Fernando Valley for a summer. His first job when he arrived was as the Art Director for an upcoming Van Halen world tour. In fact, it was their first break out tour. When David came home to announce he had the job, none of us even knew who they were.
Before long, our living room became his studio. We had a west-facing sliding glass door that led to our back yard pool, the windows of which received direct sunlight in the afternoon. That sliding glass door became David’s lightbox and soon he put me to work. I climbed up on a step stool, armed with a roll of masking tape, and I put up slides of publicity photos of the group in neat grids, organized in four columns, one for each member of the band. When the afternoon light hit, we had a veritable stained glass window dedicated to Eddie, Alex, Michael Anthony, and David Lee Roth.
Our dining room table - and our floor - became David’s workstation where he worked on his designs. In those days, everything was done by hand. David drew illustrations and developed logos with pens, colored pencils, and paper. He would embellish the designs with photos and Xeroxes (more on this in a bit) and cut-up construction paper. In that pre-computer era, the materials were all tangible and tactile. If I close my eyes, I can still smell the spirit gum. Once, he had me cutting out little triangle shapes and when my mom asked him what we were making he answered, “epiphanies!”
Now, it wasn’t like I was working for David all the time, but we spent the days at home together. My mom was a lawyer and went to an office while I was out of school for the summer. David was kind of a high-end babysitter and I was there to help when he needed it (or maybe to keep me occupied). My day usually consisted of swimming in the pool while David worked. We would meet up in the living room around noon where he would make lunch for the two of us while we watched old reruns of educational shows like “The Twilight Zone” and “Alfred Hitchcock Presents.” Even lunch was a creative enterprise. If all we had was a package of Top Ramen, he would start with that and throw in whatever he found in the fridge and cabinets: frozen peas, canned tomatoes, spices, and a bit of left over chicken to create something unique. (I’m sure it’s no coincidence that, in a recent conversation with a potential client, when discussing working with a small budget I offered the metaphor: “I’m accustomed to working with whatever ingredients are available in the kitchen.”) After lunch, we usually walked a couple blocks to the local Ralph’s grocery store and Thrifty’s drug store for supplies and ice cream cones.
It was on one of these trips that we came across a photo book commemorating an anniversary of the Sylmar earthquake. Basically, it was page after page of destruction from the 6.5 magnitude quake. That was when I witnessed inspiration strike: David bought two of the books and took them home. Destruction became part of the motif; Van Halen was coming to destroy your town (remember, back then rock and roll was still considered “dangerous”). David cut out and Xeroxed images of rubble and placed them in a collage with photos of the band members. He also introduced all kinds of other American pop culture elements; cheeseburgers, cocktails, and clothing items. He had me cut out product pictures from fast food ads in magazines and added those to his designs.
When I look at that work now, I can see the way the environment informed the art. Fast food, a local earthquake, bright colors, and other pop culture elements came right out of the quintessentially American manmade geography of the San Fernando Valley. I am not sure that work would have looked the same had he created it in New York.
And that was the main lesson I learned from David Byrd: you can find creative inspiration from anywhere and everywhere if you just keep your eyes and your mind open. He started with a bunch of photos, some early collateral artwork, a few logos, and a couple of early cassettes from a band we hadn’t heard of before. Sitting at a dining table in Van Nuys armed with his array of art materials, his knowledge and experience, with no staff except a kid who was interested in helping, and he went to work. David created all of the artwork for the posters, t-shirts, tour book, etc. for the Van Halen “Fair Warning Tour” and set the band firmly in the pop culture zeitgeist of the time.
Of course, I would have real first jobs later. I worked at a video store, I was a PA; the more typical jobs from which I learned much. But what I learned from David, even at that young age, was how to think like a creative professional. How to approach a project from the basics, find your materials and inspiration in the culture around you, use what you have at hand, and start to make stuff. (Eventually, I would work with another member of Van Halen, convincing Sammy Hagar to silly stuff, when I worked at AXS TV).
David is still working today and he is as active as he has ever been. He and his husband, mosaic artist Jolino Bessera, continue to bring a sense of creativity and humanity to everything they do. If you want to check out more of his work you can visit: http://davidedwardbyrdposters.com
How do you find your creative inspiration? Who are your mentors? What lessons did you learn in your first jobs and early experiences that you still carry with you now? How can we work together to bring your project to life?