Interview with Maximiliano Fulquet

Drawing came long before design. From a very young age, I drew and painted, and for several years I thought my path would be primarily connected to the visual arts.
Over time, I discovered graphic design and realized that it allowed me to combine that world with something else that interested me: communicating ideas.
My education as a designer was largely self-taught. I learned through working, observing, experimenting and developing projects. In the summer of 1995, I did one of my first professional projects: I designed the logo and a flyer for a bar, and I also painted a mural in the space. I particularly remember the feeling of seeing something I had designed become real for the first time.

My three main priorities would probably be idea, coherence and synthesis.
First, I need to understand what I am trying to communicate and find an idea capable of organizing the project. Then I try to make sure that every decision—typography, color, illustration, photography, materials or tone—belongs to the same universe. Finally, I try to remove anything that is not necessary.
I do not have a single technique. I often begin away from the computer, writing, drawing and making small sketches. Then I use digital tools to develop and produce the system. I am particularly interested in that transition between analog and digital processes.

Curiosity, enthusiasm, doubt and, quite often, frustration. I believe they are all part of the process.
The moment I enjoy most is probably the one in which I do not yet know the answer. When different ideas, words, references and drawings begin to connect and something that was abstract starts to take shape.
Then comes a more rational stage: organizing, correcting, removing and making decisions. Finally, there is the satisfaction of seeing something that once existed only as an idea become a real piece, object or system.

I think working for so many years and across very different kinds of projects taught me to observe, listen and adapt without losing my own judgment.
Working extensively with drawing and illustration has also been very important. Drawing teaches you to observe, but also to synthesize and make decisions. And accompanying certain brands over many years allowed me to understand something that short-term projects rarely teach you: how an identity lives, changes and evolves over time.
Beyond strictly design-related skills, I consider curiosity, the ability to listen, patience and communication to be fundamental. Designing is not only about finding a good idea; it also involves understanding other people and being able to explain why we make certain decisions.

After thirty years of working in design, I do not feel that my path is leading toward greater and greater specialization. Instead, I am interested in reconnecting different parts of my career.
I want to continue developing identity projects while giving more space to illustration, art direction, packaging and experimentation. I am particularly interested in projects where I can participate from the initial idea through to its materialization and build a complete visual universe.
I do not have one specific “dream project.” I am more interested in finding projects where there is enough trust, time and freedom to develop an idea in depth. I also want to devote more space to personal projects and exhibitions, where design and illustration can interact more freely.

Learn to look before learning only to produce.
Draw, read and explore art, architecture, photography, music and culture. Do not build all your references by looking exclusively at other designers' portfolios.
Tools change constantly. In thirty years, I have seen tools that once seemed indispensable disappear and others that would previously have been unimaginable emerge.
What remains is the ability to think, develop judgment and build a perspective of your own. There are not many shortcuts for that: you have to work, make mistakes, observe and keep learning.

I would try not to think too much about success as the objective. I believe it is more important to build a practice that can be sustained over time.
That means remaining curious, learning to listen, developing judgment and not allowing tools or trends to make decisions for you.
I also believe it is important to learn how to explain your own work. A good idea that cannot be communicated or defended can easily get lost. Designing also means having conversations, listening, making arguments and understanding the context in which you are working.

My days do not follow a completely fixed structure, probably as a result of having worked independently for so many years.
I live and work in Sierra de los Padres, in a natural environment near Mar del Plata, so my studio is quite removed from the dynamics of a conventional urban office.
I usually begin by reviewing projects and organizing priorities, and I try to reserve the first working hours for tasks that require the most concentration. Throughout the day, I move between design, drawing, research, meetings and production follow-up.
I also need to leave the studio. Walking, being in contact with nature or simply spending some time away from the screen is part of the way I work. Very often, ideas continue developing precisely during those moments.

I observe what is happening in design, art, architecture, fashion, photography and visual culture in general. I am interested in understanding changes and recognizing new visual codes, but I try not to turn trends into formulas.
Trends can be useful tools because they say something about the cultural moment we are living in. The problem begins when a brand or project adopts those codes simply to appear contemporary.
I believe the most important question should not be “How does something current look?” but rather “What makes this project different from any other?” To me, a strong identity should be able to engage with its time without depending entirely on it.

First, I try to understand what problem it was supposed to solve. Judging aesthetics alone can be misleading.
Then I look at concept, synthesis, coherence, execution and differentiation. I am particularly interested in designs where nothing seems arbitrary and where formal decisions can be traced back to an idea.
Good design does not necessarily have to appeal to me personally. It can belong to a visual universe completely different from my own and still be perfectly conceived for what it represents.

It is one of the most difficult parts of the process.
I believe almost any design could continue to be modified indefinitely. You can always move something, adjust a proportion or try another alternative. But there comes a point when continuing to intervene no longer improves the project; it simply changes it.
For me, a design is ready when the idea is clear, the system works and every element has a purpose. In identity projects, I also need to see it working in real situations. A logo in isolation may appear resolved; the real test begins when it has to become a system.

It is difficult to reduce thirty years of work to a single piece, but I would probably choose the identity I have built for Woodoo Skateboards over almost twenty years.
What I value most is not one specific design, but having built a visual universe capable of evolving without losing its identity. Over the years, we have worked on skateboards, wheels, bearings, clothing, packaging, communication and many other applications.
To me, it demonstrates something I strongly believe in: a good identity should not be a fixed aesthetic formula. It should be a system with enough personality and flexibility to evolve, adapt and remain recognizable over time.
I also consider La Orden del Libertador Whisky Malbec Wood particularly important, as it allowed concept, illustration, typography, packaging and materiality to come together in a very complete way.

If I had to choose one, I would probably say Massimo Vignelli.
I am particularly interested in his way of understanding design beyond a purely aesthetic question. His thinking about order, clarity, responsibility and the ability of design to intervene in everyday life is especially interesting to me.
I would have liked to talk with him about that dimension of design: not only how to create visually strong objects or communications, but how design decisions ultimately influence the way people understand and experience the world.

I live and have my studio in Sierra de los Padres, a natural area located about twenty kilometers from Mar del Plata, Argentina. Being surrounded by hills, vegetation and open spaces is part of my everyday life and also influences the way I work.
At the same time, I grew up and developed much of my professional career in Mar del Plata, a coastal city with a very particular identity and a strong relationship with the sea, urban culture and action sports. Skateboarding, music, drawing and that visual culture are all part of my history.
I believe this coexistence between nature and city, between the contemplative and the urban, inevitably appears in the way I see things.
Being Argentine also has an influence. There is an enormously rich visual culture and, at the same time, a very particular ability to work with limited resources, improvise and find solutions.

My working structure is small and deliberately flexible.
I personally direct every project and develop a large part of the work myself, but I collaborate with other professionals when a project requires it: photographers, programmers, producers, writers or other specialized disciplines.
I am not interested in reproducing the structure of a large agency. I prefer to build the right team around each problem while maintaining very close creative direction.
When it comes to working with clients, I try to begin by listening. I need to understand what they do, their history, the problem they are trying to solve and where they want to go. I believe the best projects happen when the relationship stops being “the client commissions and the designer executes” and becomes a collaboration where each side contributes a different kind of knowledge.

At different points in my career, I have been involved in teaching and sharing knowledge. I have taught drawing and painting, developed workshops and participated in talks and events related to design and illustration.
I have always been interested in sharing processes and experiences, particularly because my own education was largely self-taught. I believe making visible how we think and how a piece of work is constructed can be just as useful as showing only the final result.
I also believe there is an everyday responsibility within professional practice: to design honestly, avoid unnecessary complexity, consider the lifespan of what we produce and contribute to a more diverse visual culture.
I do not believe a designer's contribution to society has to exist only through large philanthropic actions. It is also present in the small decisions we make every day.

Receiving the A' Design Award for La Orden del Libertador Whisky Malbec Wood was a very important recognition for both the project and my work.
I believe participating in international awards and competitions can provide three main benefits. First, it allows a project to be evaluated outside its usual context and alongside work from other cultures and markets. Second, it creates visibility and can help the work reach people and places that would otherwise be difficult to access. Third, it creates a record of the project and of a particular moment in a professional career.
In my case, it was also especially meaningful that the recognition came for a project where I was able to combine many of the disciplines that are part of my work: identity, concept, illustration, typography and packaging.
Being selected now as Designer of the Day brings that work back into circulation several years later and allows me to look at it from another perspective. It is interesting to see how a project can continue creating connections and opportunities long after it was originally designed.

What motivates me is the possibility of understanding something in depth and giving it a form that expresses it with clarity and meaning.
For me, design is as much a way of thinking as it is a visual outcome.

It was not something I planned from the beginning, but neither did I ever feel forced into it. It was more of a path that gradually defined itself as I moved forward.
At one point, I left secondary school to work and learn on my own. Over time, I understood that designing was my way of being in the world.

I mainly work on visual identity and brand strategy projects, often involving packaging, illustration and art direction as well.
I am particularly interested in building visual universes that can live across different media and remain coherent over time. I would also like to continue exploring cultural and collaborative projects where design can interact with other creative languages.

I believe the most important thing is to develop a perspective of your own. That takes time, and it is not always obvious at the beginning.
I would tell young designers not to rush. Experiment, make mistakes, work, observe carefully, but also learn to look inward.
Tools change constantly. What remains is your perspective and your judgment. And those take patience to build.

I do not think it is simply technical ability. What makes the difference is the ability to observe, to ask good questions and to build a perspective of your own over time.
To me, that matters much more than any particular trend.

For me, a good design is one that responds clearly to an idea or a context. It is not only about appearance.
I am interested in work where every decision seems necessary and, at the same time, the result has a voice of its own.

Good design creates meaning, builds trust and allows a brand or project to express itself coherently and endure over time.
Investing in design means investing in identity and in the long term: in building something that makes sense today but is also capable of evolving tomorrow.

I would like to explore more experimental and cultural projects, where design can interact with other disciplines without such an immediate commercial urgency.

I do not have one specific dream project. What I do have is the desire to continue working on projects where there is trust, time and a genuine interest in building identity with depth.

I do not believe much in recipes, but I do believe in consistency and curiosity.
Being able to stay with a question over time, even when there are no immediate answers, is fundamental to me.

More than specific names, I am inspired by careers. People who have built a voice of their own without rushing, and who have been able to sustain a personal exploration beyond trends.

I am attracted to work where idea and form are inseparable. Not necessarily because of a recognizable style, but because of the way an idea has been considered all the way through.
I am interested in work where you can perceive a clear intention and a strong sense of coherence.

It is difficult for me to choose a single one, but if I had to mention one, I would probably choose the visual identity I have built for Woodoo Skateboards over almost twenty years.
More than any individual piece, what I value is the coherence of a visual system that has been able to evolve and remain recognizable over time across many different applications.
I am also particularly proud of the identity and packaging design for La Orden del Libertador Whisky Malbec Wood, because of the way concept, illustration, typography, packaging and materiality came together.

By working, observing, questioning and trying again. There are no shortcuts.
Judgment develops through looking carefully, making a lot of work and accepting that mistakes are part of the process.

Probably something related to drawing or painting.
Art came before design in my life, and for a long time I thought that would be my path.

For me, design is a way of thinking. The visual outcome is the consequence of a series of decisions that happened before it.
It involves observing, understanding, synthesizing and giving form. It is a way of organizing and communicating meaning.

Many people, at different moments and in different ways.
I do not tend to think of individual careers as isolated journeys. There are always relationships, conversations, affection and people who accompany the process, even if they are not always visible.

Perseverance, sustained work and curiosity.
Over time, I learned that building something of your own takes time and that there is no reason to rush it.

There were many moments of uncertainty. For a long time, it was not clear whether it would be possible to make a living from this profession in the way I imagined.
There are also the doubts that are inherent to the creative process. Over time, I learned that those doubts never completely disappear, but you learn how to live and work with them.

With clarity and context.
Rather than showing only final results, I think there is value in sharing the process, the questions and the decisions behind the work. It allows people to better understand what problem was being addressed and the thinking behind the solution.

One of the projects I completed recently and most enjoyed developing was MARVENTO, a collection of vermouths built around the connection between the Mediterranean and the Atlantic, between Montecorice in Italy and Mar del Plata in Argentina.
It was a comprehensive project in which we were able to work from the naming and conceptual development of the brand through to its visual identity, illustrations, labels and packaging design.
This is a direction I would like to continue exploring: projects where I can become involved from the initial idea and where identity, design and illustration can become part of the same universe. I am particularly interested in continuing to develop packaging projects, because it is a territory where many of the disciplines that are part of my work can come together and materialize in a physical object.

To continue doing work that feels honest to me, that has meaning for the people who use it, and that at the same time allows me to keep learning.
I do not think of it as a final destination, but as an ongoing process.

I suppose they expect clarity, judgment and responsibility.
Rather than absolute certainty, I think they expect a perspective capable of bringing order and meaning to complexity.

By helping make things more understandable, accessible and honest.
I do not believe design alone can transform everything, but it can certainly contribute to the way we understand, use and inhabit the world.

I am currently working on VIALON, a human performance and wellness project in Bariloche, Argentina.
What excites me most is the opportunity to build the identity from an integral perspective. Not simply a graphic mark, but a system that extends into products, spaces, communication and digital platforms.
I am very interested in following that growth and seeing how an idea can remain coherent as it moves across different scales and applications.

The ones I have been able to accompany over time, where an identity has remained coherent while continuing to grow.
Seeing that continuity, and seeing how other people begin to make use of something you designed, is particularly satisfying.

I would like to see more time recovered for thinking.
There is a great deal of urgency today, and many formulas. I would like to see more reflective processes, greater diversity of perspectives and less pressure to arrive at a result as quickly as possible.

I think we are moving toward a scenario where producing things will become increasingly easy, while differentiating them and creating meaning will become more challenging.
That is where judgment will become increasingly important.

It depends greatly on the project. Some processes require weeks, others months, and some can continue developing in different stages over several years.
I do not have a standard timeframe. Every project has its own rhythm.

I begin by asking questions. I try to understand the context, the problem, what is expected and also what is not being said.
Then come research, references, words and loose sketches. It is a very open stage, where I am not trying to find a quick solution but to understand the problem properly.

If I had to put it simply: think before you design.

I think it works both ways.
Trends exist, of course, but a design built around a strong idea should not depend entirely on them.

Technology is a tool.
I am interested in it when it expands possibilities, but not when it replaces the idea.

I use the digital tools commonly associated with the profession, particularly Adobe software for design, illustration and image processing.
But I still begin many things by hand, with pencil and paper. In recent years, I have also incorporated artificial intelligence tools into parts of my exploration and production processes.

They are part of the language. They are not simply decoration.
They contribute to tone, atmosphere and what a project is trying to communicate.

Perhaps more about the process and how certain decisions were reached, rather than only about the final result.

I usually think about the idea behind it and the clarity with which it was conceived.
Rather than simply asking myself whether I like it or not on a superficial level, I try to understand why it works.

I strongly believe in working with others. Not from a romantic idea of collaboration, but because of the value of genuine exchange.
I am interested in situations where another perspective expands a project and allows it to reach places I probably would not have reached on my own.

Rather than direct influences or specific names, I would say I have been influenced by encounters and conversations, and by people I have worked with who helped me see things from a different perspective.

I do not have a specific list of design books that have influenced me in that way.
I learn a great deal from looking, observing, researching and, especially, from practice itself.

By working a lot, experimenting, making mistakes and trying again.
It has been a continuous process developed over time.

Massimo Vignelli.
I would have liked to talk with him because of his particular way of understanding design and, especially, his perspective on how design affects people's lives.
I am interested in that sense of responsibility and in the idea that design can bring order and improve the human experience.

Awards and recognition can be valuable as acknowledgments of the work, but they are not what guides my practice.
What remains important to me is the work itself and the opportunity to continue developing projects that genuinely interest me.

I do not really have fixed favorites. These are things that tend to change over time, along with interests and different moments in life.

I am not someone who tends to remember big anecdotes, but the design process is full of small moments, experiments, mistakes and unexpected situations that eventually become part of the learning process.
Often, the things that go unnoticed from the outside are precisely the things you end up remembering most fondly.

Feeling that I understood something a little better than I did yesterday.
It does not necessarily mean finishing something. It might simply be finding an idea, making a connection or discovering a different way of looking at a problem.

It was not obvious that I would become a designer, but there was certainly a very clear inclination toward drawing and the visual arts.
Drawing was part of my life long before I even knew what being a designer meant.

I find it difficult to think on such a distant scale.
I tend to think much more about the present and the processes immediately ahead of us. A thousand years is an almost impossible timeframe to imagine, particularly at a moment when technology and our relationship with it are changing so rapidly.

I try to work honestly and with respect for every project.
After all these years, I am still curious, I still draw, I still ask questions and I still encounter things I do not know how to do. That is probably what I would most like to preserve.

Estudio Fulquet is my professional practice and the space from which I develop projects involving identity, brand strategy, art direction, design and illustration.
I personally lead the creative direction of each project and bring in collaborators from other disciplines when necessary. I like keeping the structure flexible because it allows me to become deeply involved in each project and maintain a direct relationship with my clients.
The studio works across very different fields, from beverages, fashion and action sports to architecture, products and services. That diversity is also an important part of its identity.

For me, design is first and foremost a way of thinking. The visual outcome is the visible consequence of a series of decisions that happened before it.
Designing means observing, understanding a problem, finding an idea and giving it a form capable of communicating it.
That is why I often summarize my approach with a very simple phrase: think first, then design.

I particularly enjoy projects where I can build a complete visual universe. An identity that can then expand into packaging, communication, products, spaces or different media.
I am also especially interested in projects where design and illustration can coexist. Illustration has been part of my work from the beginning, and when both disciplines can become part of the same identity, I feel I am working in a territory that is particularly natural to me.

It is difficult for me to choose a single piece, but I would probably choose the visual identity I have built for Woodoo Skateboards over almost twenty years of working with the brand.
What I value most about this project is not one particular design, but the coherence of the entire visual universe we have developed over time. The identity has been applied to skateboards, wheels, bearings, clothing, packaging, communication and many other formats, constantly evolving while remaining recognizable as Woodoo.
I find that particularly rewarding because it demonstrates something I strongly believe in: a good identity should not be a fixed aesthetic formula. It should be a flexible system with enough personality to evolve, adapt and remain coherent across very different applications and over many years.
I am also particularly proud of the identity and packaging design for La Orden del Libertador Whisky Malbec Wood. It is a project where concept, illustration, typography and packaging came together in a very complete way, and one that has been especially meaningful in my career.

The first professional project I remember doing while consciously thinking that I wanted to work as a designer was for a bar, during the summer of 1995. I designed its logo and a flyer, and I also painted a mural in the space.
The bar no longer exists, but I clearly remember the feeling of seeing something I had designed become real and become part of a physical environment for the first time.
Looking back almost thirty years later, I find it interesting that my first project already combined identity, graphic design and illustration—three disciplines that would continue to accompany me throughout my career.

I do not have a single favorite tool. I am particularly interested in the transition between analog and digital processes.
I still begin many projects by drawing, writing down ideas or making small sketches, and then develop and refine those ideas using digital tools.
I have experienced enormous technological changes over thirty years in this profession, from almost entirely analog processes to the current emergence of artificial intelligence. I am interested in technology when it expands the designer's possibilities, but I try never to let it replace the idea behind the work.

When I do not yet know exactly what the answer will be.
The initial stage of a project when questions, references, words, drawings and apparently unrelated connections begin to appear is probably the part I enjoy most. I need a certain degree of uncertainty to feel that I am actually discovering something rather than simply executing a solution I already know.
I also need moments of distance. Living and working surrounded by nature in Sierra de los Padres allows me to leave the studio, walk, observe and let ideas continue developing away from the screen. Very often, a solution appears precisely when I stop actively looking for it.

Primarily the idea and its coherence.
I try to make sure that every decision has a reason and that all the elements belong to the same universe. Typography, color, illustration, photography, materials or tone of voice can be completely different from one project to another, but within each project they need to speak the same language.

Curiosity, enthusiasm, doubt and, quite often, frustration. I think all of them are necessary.
There is a particularly interesting moment when an idea that was still abstract begins to take shape. It creates a small sense of discovery.
Then another, much more rational stage begins: organizing, correcting, removing and making decisions.

Seeing a design materialized is still special to me, particularly when it involves packaging, clothing, a skateboard, an object or anything that leaves the screen and begins to exist physically.
Even after so many years, I still find there is an enormous difference between seeing something designed and actually holding it in your hands.

It should fulfill its purpose, be recognizable and have an identity of its own.
I do not believe success depends solely on something being visually attractive. Good design should communicate something about what it represents and distinguish it from everything around it.
When it also manages to remain relevant over time, there is probably something genuinely solid behind it.

First, I try to understand what problem it was supposed to solve. Judging aesthetics alone can be misleading.
Then I look at concept, synthesis, coherence, execution and differentiation. I am particularly interested in designs where nothing seems unnecessary and where formal decisions can be traced back to an idea.

Design actively participates in visual culture, but also in systems of production and consumption. Our decisions therefore have consequences.
I believe our responsibility begins with avoiding unnecessary complexity, considering the lifespan of what we design and questioning decisions that generate waste when better alternatives exist.
There is also a cultural responsibility: to communicate honestly and contribute to a visual culture that is more diverse and less homogeneous.

We are going through an enormous transformation. Digital tools, and especially artificial intelligence, are making the production of images, pieces and variations increasingly fast and accessible.
Paradoxically, I believe this will make everything that happens before production even more important: judgment, critical thinking, visual culture, the ability to formulate questions and the ability to build concepts.
The designer's value will probably shift increasingly from simply “knowing how to make things” toward knowing what to make, why to make it and how to give it meaning.

I am currently preparing my next exhibition at the Museo del Surf in Ala Moana, near Mar del Plata. It will bring together work developed over the years around skate culture, including skateboards, wheels, bearing packaging, clothing and other pieces where illustration and graphic design have been applied to physical products.

From many different places, and not necessarily from design.
Drawing, painting, music, photography, architecture, nature, everyday objects, urban culture and skateboarding are all part of my references. Living in Sierra de los Padres has also made observing nature an increasingly natural part of my everyday life.
I try not to look exclusively at other designers for inspiration because there is always a risk of reproducing existing solutions. I find it much more interesting to observe things that apparently have nothing to do with the problem and discover connections between them.

I try not to have an overly recognizable formal style. I believe an identity should resemble the project it represents, rather than necessarily resembling the designer who created it.
If there is something consistent throughout my work, it is probably found more in the way I think than in a particular aesthetic: conceptual exploration, synthesis, attention to detail, the combination of design and illustration, and the construction of visual systems capable of growing over time.

I live and have my studio in Sierra de los Padres, a natural area located about 20 kilometers from Mar del Plata, Argentina. It is surrounded by hills, vegetation and open spaces, and this proximity to nature has become part of both my everyday life and the way I work.
At the same time, I grew up and developed much of my professional career in Mar del Plata, a coastal city with a very particular identity and a strong relationship with the sea, urban culture and action sports. I believe the coexistence of these two environments—nature and city—inevitably influences the way I see things.
Being Argentine also shapes my perspective. Argentina has an extraordinarily rich visual culture and a remarkable ability to work with limited resources, improvise and find solutions.
The distance from major international design centers can sometimes be a disadvantage, but it can also create independence. Being on the periphery allows you to observe what is happening elsewhere without necessarily being immersed in it, and that can help you develop a perspective of your own.

I try to begin by listening before designing.
I need to understand what the company does, its history, the problem it is trying to solve, who it competes with and where it wants to go. From there, I try to find a central idea and translate it into a visual system.
I also believe it is essential to involve the client in the process. The best relationships do not work as “client commissions / designer executes,” but as collaborations in which each side contributes a different kind of knowledge.

Choosing a designer simply because their aesthetic happens to be fashionable can be a mistake.
Companies should look at how a designer thinks, what questions they ask, how they explain their decisions and whether they are capable of understanding the business as well as producing strong visual work.
And once they have chosen a designer, they should give them enough space to do their job. Trust between client and designer can dramatically improve the result.

It usually begins away from the computer.
I research, write, organize information and try to identify an idea capable of synthesizing the project. Then words, sketches, references and drawings begin to appear.
Only then do I start building the visual language and testing it in real situations. To me, an identity never ends with a logo. I need to see it working across different applications to understand whether a genuine system actually exists.

It is difficult to choose only five, but I would probably select objects that are important to me both for their design and for their personal history.
I have a reproduction of a work by M. C. Escher, printed in the Netherlands in 1978, which I treasure. An old desk with drawers that was a gift from my mother-in-law and is a beautiful piece of furniture. A box of Staedtler pencils that my mother gave me many years ago and that I still use today. A limited-edition Powell Peralta Metallica skateboard deck, which brings together two worlds that have always interested me: graphic design and skate culture. And a set of three lamps that I designed myself using skateboard decks.
I like being surrounded by objects that, besides being well designed, carry a story. Over time, that connection becomes as important as the object itself.

My days do not follow a completely fixed structure, probably as a result of having worked independently for so many years.
I live and work in Sierra de los Padres, so my studio is part of an environment quite different from a conventional urban office. I usually begin by reviewing projects and organizing priorities, but I try to reserve the first working hours for tasks that require the most concentration.
Throughout the day I move between design, drawing, research, meetings and production follow-up.
I also need to leave the studio. Walking, being in contact with nature or simply spending some time away from the screen is part of the way I work. Over the years, I have learned that these apparently unproductive moments are often part of the creative process as well.

Learn to look before learning to produce.
Draw, read and explore art, architecture, photography, music and culture. Do not build all your references by looking exclusively at other designers' portfolios.
Tools change constantly. In thirty years, I have seen many tools that once seemed indispensable disappear and others that would previously have been unimaginable emerge.
What remains is the ability to think, develop judgment and have something of your own to say.

One of the best things is that you never completely stop learning. Every project forces you to enter a new universe and understand things you previously knew nothing about.
The downside is that it becomes difficult to switch that way of looking off. You constantly observe typography, objects, signs, packaging, spaces and visual decisions.
After so many years, design and everyday life tend to become quite intertwined.

Think before you design.
Strong execution can make a weak idea attractive, but it can rarely turn it into a good idea.

Curiosity, observation, judgment, the ability to synthesize and the ability to communicate ideas.
Of course, designers need to understand tools and technical principles, but those skills can be learned. What is more difficult to develop is a perspective of your own and, above all, the ability to distinguish between something that is simply attractive and something that is genuinely appropriate.

My toolbox combines very simple things with contemporary technology.
Paper, pencils and notebooks remain fundamental. I then mainly use Adobe tools for design, illustration and image processing, together with photography and different digital resources.
In recent years, I have also incorporated generative artificial intelligence tools. I am particularly interested in them as tools for exploration, visualization and production, always subordinated to creative direction and an underlying idea.
Books still occupy an important place as well. I have a fairly physical relationship with design: I still enjoy looking at books, printed matter, materials and real objects.

I try to separate stages that require thinking from those that require production.
I have also learned that working more hours does not necessarily improve a project. Sometimes stepping away for a while allows you to solve in minutes something that you had been struggling with for hours.
After many years of working independently, managing time also means learning when to keep going and when to stop.

It can take hours, weeks or months.
Complexity is not always directly related to the appearance of the final result. An extremely simple solution may require a great deal of time before you find it.
In identity projects, I also do not consider the work finished when the logo appears. The real test begins when that idea has to become a system capable of working consistently.

Probably some variation of: “How long does it take to make this?”
After thirty years, I still think it is one of the most difficult questions to answer, because the visible execution time does not represent all the knowledge, experimentation and accumulated decisions behind a solution.

I could not reduce it to a single job.
Working for many years with brands such as Woodoo, Camarón Brujo and Recife allowed me to understand something that short-term projects rarely teach you: how an identity lives and evolves over time.
Being able to accompany brands for years, redesign them and develop products, campaigns, illustrations and different visual languages was a genuine education in creative direction.
That experience probably explains a great deal about the way I approach identity systems today.

Throughout my career, I have worked with brands and companies from very different sectors, including Woodoo Skateboards, Recife, Camarón Brujo, Freespirits and Casa Talina, as well as numerous independent projects involving beverages, clothing, action sports, architecture and products.
I have also developed personal and collaborative projects that allow me to experiment outside commercial commissions, such as FAKE, created together with artist Matías Duville.

Projects where I can participate from the initial idea through to its materialization.
I am particularly interested in building identities and visual universes because they allow strategy, typography, art direction, illustration, packaging and different applications to coexist.
I enjoy it when the result is not an isolated piece but a language capable of continuing to generate new things.

To keep working, but also to increasingly recover a space for illustration and experimentation within my practice.
After thirty years, I do not feel particularly interested in becoming even more specialized. Quite the opposite: I am interested in allowing strategy, design, art direction and illustration to coexist.
I also want to devote more time to personal projects and exhibitions, where drawing and design can exist with greater freedom.

My structure is small and deliberately flexible.
I personally direct every project and develop a large part of the work myself, but I collaborate with other professionals when a project requires it, including photography, programming, production, content or other specialized disciplines.
I am not interested in reproducing the structure of a large agency. I prefer to build the right team around each problem while maintaining a very close creative direction.

I am currently working on several identity and design projects, but I am also preparing an exhibition that brings together work developed over many years around skate culture and related projects.
I am particularly interested in it because many of these pieces originated as design or illustration applied to products—skateboards, wheels, packaging and clothing—and are now returning to an exhibition space as objects.
That movement between artwork, design and object summarizes an important part of my career.

People can contact me through Estudio Fulquet, my website and my professional social media channels.
Website: estudiofulquet.com
Instagram: @fulquetstudio

Perhaps one idea that runs through many of these answers: after thirty years, I still believe that designing is fundamentally about remaining curious.
Tools, visual languages, clients and technology change. What I try to preserve is the desire to understand something I do not yet understand and to find a different way of making it visible.