Doin’ It After Dark. Creatives who don’t stop when the sun goes down.

An interview with Justin Bieber Alex Varanese.

___

Art, these days, spreads faster than oil from the Deepwater Horizon, is more contagious than Lady Gaga (better yet, Justin Bieber), it hits the twitter, reaches your inbox, and then before you know it, it’s posted up on ISO50. And, within that one hot minute of underground freedom, when an artist is still a little unknown to the masses, but remains a true gem in the eyes of those in-the-know, is the ultimate calm before the storm of cluster-fuck-fame. May I introduce to you, Alex Varanese, Bay Area artist (to say the least), who is hanging out in that one hot minute before the storm…

___

It seems as though you are showing up everywhere (specifically on the web) these days (or at least in my world), so the big question is, who are you?

The short answer is that I’m a digital artist from the Bay Area who merges 3D illustration with traditional design and typography and then douses the whole thing in red-orange. The longer answer is that I’ve done (and continue to do) a lot of things that have little or nothing to do with art, which gives me an off-kilter perspective that I try to exploit wherever possible. My day job involves working as a writer, I spent years of my life as a software-engineer-turned-video-game-developer, and an increasingly large part of me is convinced that I was supposed to be a musician all along and my entire career is one huge mistake. Sometimes I think the secret to being a good artist is wanting to do a lot of other things instead.

Also, it’s only fair to mention that the ubiquity of my work on the web is probably due to the fact that I embed the phrase “Justin Bieber Sex Tape” in every file I upload. I’m not proud of that, but you can’t argue with the results.

You have a remarkable sense of complexity, what is it that inspires you?

Urban architecture has been a lifelong source of inspiration, and that made San Francisco an early interest of mine. I had an almost maddening obsession with skyscrapers as a kid, especially at night, because they hit me the way I think they’d hit a caveman; so massive and spectacularly detailed that I could barely imagine how their construction was even possible in the first place. As I grew up, my fascination with the urban landscape shrunk in scale, and I learned to appreciate the lifetime of detail hidden in just a single unassuming block of the Mission, for instance.

Being a card-carrying pop culture junkie, on the other hand, helps bring my headier ideas back to Earth. Just when I’m about to get lost in an insufferably pompous treatise on urban expansion and whatever-the-hell-else, I remember how much I like Converse All-Stars and clunky old Apple II monitors and try to lighten things up a bit.

What is your insane process and how long does it take for you to reach a finalized piece?

My “insane” process? Really? So now it’s “insane” to drink so heavily while working that I break into hysterical crying fits every fifteen minutes? Or maybe it’s “insane” that I made a skintight body suit from raw meatloaf because I’m convinced it endows me with magical artistic powers? I suppose it’s also “insane” that I tend to be most creative while showering in a prom dress, right? Whatever.

Anyway, I approach most of my pieces in the same way. When I’m actually behaving responsibly, I start with a sketch and try to visualize my idea on paper first. The rest of the time I just dive into digital production and hope for the best. My pieces almost always start in 3D, where my goal is to create something that seems just realistic enough to believe but surreal or “impossible” enough that I couldn’t have feasibly created the image with photography. I have a fascination with deconstruction in particular, so a lot of my ideas begin with some everyday scene or object that looks like god hacked it apart with a light saber.

Type seems to play a significant roll in your designs, where is your typography derived from?

I’ve had a fascination with letters and language for as long as I can remember. The great thing about experimental typography is that it lets you literally “say” something without all the pressure that comes along with a purely written work. As long as you dress up your message with enough visual interest, the audience is free to ignore it if they’d like. There’s something fascinating about the ability to speak your mind without necessarily having to take responsibility for it.

Additionally, there’s an almost geometric beauty that sits at the heart of both language and the design of letters themselves. It’s amazing how much depth can be added to a piece with nothing more than a single linguistic element.

What’s up with the color palette and why the self imposed restriction?

I know, right? My obsession with red and red-orange is yet another quirk that goes back to childhood. They were my favorite colors before I really even knew what color was, but to this day I rarely see them take center stage in the design world. The opportunity to fill that void myself has been irresistible, and once I started down that road it became pretty hard to stop. Additionally, beyond red-orange in particular, I’ve always been fascinated by designs that try to push a monochromatic palette as far as possible. Excess can be an extremely rich and vivid design element, and the technique I’ve grown to call “the red fetish” has taken on a life of its own within my work. I don’t even realize I’m doing it anymore, to be honest. It’s more or less become instinct.

I should point out, by the way, that I’m currently working with my first contract client that’s specifically requested I use a color other than red. The audacity.

You seem like a interesting guy with something important to say, what is your ultimate message?

I may seem interesting, but the reality is that I spend most nights tending to my carrier pigeons or watching bootlegged episodes of “Who’s the Boss?” on VHS.

If there’s any message that my work is meant to suggest, however, it’s that there’s a lot more depth and nuance in our immediate surroundings than we tend to acknowledge. I suppose that’s the idea behind all art in a way, but I really do think that transcendental experiences like the ones described by Thoreau are not only possible without eschewing urban life, but may even be enhanced by it. It just takes the right frame of mind, and while I don’t consider my work to be a guide for attaining such a state, I do think they’re sincere reflections of my own progress on that front.

What types of music are you into?

A friend of mine terms it “indie so-and-so”, a term I find so clever that I repeat it every time I’m asked. For whatever reason, the massive genre umbrella referred to as “indie” seems to fit perfectly with that “vintage-meets-retro-meets-urban-meets-pop-culture-meets-whatever” sensibility that so many of my peers and I seem to gravitate towards artistically. I’m also really into all the Ed Banger French House stuff, as hopelessly 2007 as that may sound, possibly because it’s such a great soundtrack for the feeling of obsolete technology I try to inject into my work from time to time.

Obviously, you dig vintage music gear, what is your favorite cassette that you own?

I’m almost positive I still own a Memorex tape of me singing lyrics my friend and I wrote to go along with the 8-bit soundtrack from Rad Racer for Nintendo when I was about 9. I consider it proof that I beat Postal Service to the punch by a good 15 years or so. As a bonus, the cassette itself is clear plastic with neon pink, green and yellow shapes printed on it, not unlike the opening sequence to “Saved by the Bell”. It’s pretty badass.

Where do you see your design/art going next?

My short term plan is to wrap up my current body of work with maybe three or four more series of pieces and then pack it all up into a book. I’ll consider this chapter of my career “done” at that point and will be ready to move onto the next thing. Anything is possible; I definitely plan on moving more into motion and animation, I might incorporate music into things as well, and will possibly even lift the moratorium on blues and greens. But as much as I’ve loved my experience with the world of poster design, I’ll be ready for something new before the year is out.

It seems as though there is an enigmatic theme attached to your art, what is your biggest fear?

I can’t tell you how cool it is to hear that, because there is indeed meant to be such a theme. I’ve had regular nightmares since childhood about climbing ridiculous heights along impossible landscapes and then falling to my DREAM DEATH from the peaks, and I often try to incorporate a sense of that into what I do.

For instance, two pieces from my Pavement Loop series, “My Life as a Teenage Asymptote” and “Polarity”, were more or less inspired by the environments of those dreams.

And last, but the most important, what is your dream?

To transform. Sooner than later, preferably.

___

Check out more of Alex’s work at alexvaranese.com