Interviews met Jörg Stauvermann

I originally trained as a cabinetmaker. After that, I studied in Essen, Paris, Copenhagen and Cologne. However, I didn’t complete a traditional degree – for personal and family reasons, at some point my studies were no longer compatible with my life. Professionally, I’ve been self-employed for over 25 years and have always worked across a fairly broad spectrum: from corporate design and print to digital applications, exhibitions, spatial concepts and interior design.

For me, enthusiasm remains the most important thing. Even after more than 25 years’ professional experience, I still really enjoy this work. What appeals to me most of all is delving into different topics and developing something from them that actually works for the person or company in question. If that curiosity and enjoyment ever fade, I believe you should ask yourself whether you’re still in the right profession.

For me, it developed from my childhood. Thanks to my upbringing and my training as a cabinetmaker, design was part of my life from a very early age. Through my studies and the various stages of my career, it became increasingly clear that I’m interested in design in all its forms.

I work in two main areas: brand identities and exhibitions. When it comes to exhibitions, I actually do a great deal – from the initial concept through to the design, right down to the spatial layout and visitor engagement. Alongside this, I create books, brochures, posters, websites, packaging, labels and much more. For me, there isn’t really one specific type of design that I absolutely have to do more of. It’s precisely the diversity of the subjects that enriches my work.

Above all, I’d advise them to find out whether they’re really keen on this profession. If not, they should do something else. And otherwise: just get on with it. Don’t just start projects, but actually realise and see them through to the end. You learn an incredible amount when you actually put things into practice. And you should stay open-minded, get to know people and not assume that your own network consists solely of the four people who happen to work in the same neighbourhood.

A good designer can create designs. A really good designer understands in advance what it is they actually need to design. For me, therefore, design doesn’t begin with the visual creation, but with the conversation and the conceptual phase. I want to understand what my client actually does, what they stand for and what they want to achieve. Only then can a design emerge that really makes sense.

For me, good design must be understandable and relevant. That’s why I don’t start by producing various design proposals and then ask which one they like best. I first develop a concept and derive the design from that. If, in the end, the client understands why something looks the way it does and, at the same time, realises that it actually helps them, then a great deal has already been achieved.

Good design provides clarity and makes visible what someone stands for.

This is particularly important for businesses, because you need to distinguish yourself from others through your visual identity. I often find that clients don’t actually know exactly what they need at first. When we work together to identify who they are and what makes them special, design can take on a very tangible economic and communicative value.

I’m drawn to projects where the solution isn’t predetermined from the outset. The more varied the subject matter, the more exciting I usually find it. That’s why I could probably imagine taking on an unusual cultural or social project rather than yet another project that simply involves replicating an existing design template.

For me, a dream project is defined less by its scale than by the opportunity to work in a truly consistent and conceptual manner across all disciplines. When content, space, graphics, communication and perhaps even people with different experiences come together, I find that particularly exciting.

There’s probably no real secret recipe. I’d say: listen, stay curious, come up with good concepts, and take things seriously but with a sense of humour. Perseverance is key too. Some of my favourite projects have emerged from ideas where, at the start, I had absolutely no idea where they would lead. Sometimes you just have to take the initiative and see what comes of it.

Arne Jacobsen, Yayoi Kusama, Bo van le Mentzel, Bjarke Ingels, Sam Francis, Takashi Murakami, Philippe Starck, Victor Vasarely, Jean Tinguely, Niki de Saint-Phalle, Paul Arden, Wilhelm Busch, Brösel, Urderzo & Goscinny and many more as well as many of my current colleagues.

I generally like designs where you can tell that they aren’t just following a current visual trend, but have emerged from a clear idea. That’s probably also why I try to work as trend-free as possible myself.

One of the larger projects was certainly the ‘Ludwig lebt’ exhibition at the German Rock and Pop Museum in Gronau. Spanning around 800 to 900 square metres, it focused on Beethoven as a pop star. But for me, size alone doesn’t make a project great. It becomes exciting when the content, concept, design and space really come together and, in the end, an exhibition is created that connects with people. The exhibition “On The Road Again. The World of Our Truckers” at the Dresden Transport Museum also offered me the chance to showcase my full creative range.

They should do more and talk less. And they should learn to listen. As a designer in particular, you’re quickly tempted to come up with a visual solution straight away. But I think it’s much more important to first understand what it’s actually all about. During your studies and in your professional life, you should also learn to work independently and to teach yourself things from time to time.

To be honest, I can’t say. I’m a trained cabinetmaker, so some form of design or craftsmanship would probably have been the obvious choice. An actor or musician might also have been a possibility.

For me, design doesn’t start with a beautiful surface. Design means, first and foremost, understanding a problem or a task and developing a meaningful solution for it.

The design is then the result of this process. That’s why my work is always both conceptual and communicative – regardless of whether I’m developing a brand identity, a book or an exhibition.

I don’t think there was just one person in my case. Many people have played a part at different stages. Of course, the people I’ve worked with over the years are particularly important. And my family has also played a vital role in my professional development – after all, it was, amongst other things, our children’s health that brought us to Föhr in the first place.

Above all, a willingness to do different things. I’ve never tried to focus exclusively on a small niche. One day I might develop a visual identity, the next I might conceptualise an exhibition, and then design a book or a website. This breadth keeps me curious and constantly leads to new contacts and new ideas.

One obstacle was certainly the fact that I don’t have a traditional degree. I studied in Essen, Paris, Copenhagen and Cologne, but for personal and family reasons I didn’t complete my degree. Today, that can actually be a disadvantage at times – for example, when it comes to teaching at a university. Professionally, however, it hasn’t prevented me from forging my own path.

Not just through attractive images. You should be able to show and explain why something was designed in a particular way. That’s precisely why the concept is so important to me. When I present my work to a client, they shouldn’t have to choose between three random options, but should understand why the proposed solution is the right one for them.

The 13th edition of ‘Alles, alles Gute’ is currently in the pipeline. The newspaper is being relaunched after a three-year hiatus. Generally speaking, though, my work will probably continue to be a mix of exhibitions, brand identities, print projects and the opportunities that arise from my network.

I don’t have a specific end goal. Above all, I’d probably like to keep enjoying my work. After more than 25 years, that’s already a pretty good place to be for me. And I’d like to continue working on projects where I feel that my work actually makes a difference.

I think, above all, they expect reliability. When someone works with me, they want to know that I’m really engaging with their subject matter and not just applying a design template. My clients should be able to trust that I won’t just throw five options at them, but will develop a well-thought-out, bespoke solution.

Design can make things visible and understandable. This plays a particularly important role in exhibitions, because that’s where knowledge is conveyed and history is told. For example, I’ve worked on a memorial to euthanasia. Projects like this aren’t about making something as beautiful as possible, but about creating an appropriate way to engage with a difficult subject. Design then helps to ensure that the content reaches people.

At the moment, a new brand is right at the top of my list. It’s about economic cycles and sustainable value creation. I can’t reveal any more than that just yet.

I derive a great deal of satisfaction from projects that lead to long-term relationships. A good example is my work for the Museum Kunst der Westküste, which began shortly before we moved to Föhr. But the exhibitions featuring illustrators are also particularly valuable to me. A small idea gave rise to an international network there, with which I still work to this day.

I’d like to see more focus on content and concepts again, and less on short-term visual trends. In the past, you could tell many agencies and designers apart by their work. Today, so much of it looks astonishingly similar. I think it’s important for designers to develop their own distinct approach again and to make this visible.

It will certainly be even more shaped by digital and technological developments. At the same time, I don’t believe that print and physical design will disappear. On the contrary: precisely because so much communication has become digital and short-lived, a well-made physical object can once again have a special impact. I therefore see an increasing coexistence of different media rather than a complete shift from print to digital.

That depends very much on the project. An exhibition can take a long time to develop, whilst other tasks can be resolved very quickly. For me, however, the key isn’t to produce something as quickly as possible. I invest a lot of time in discussions and conceptualisation, particularly at the start. Once this foundation is right, the actual design process can often become surprisingly clear and efficient.

With a discussion. First of all, I want to know exactly what my client actually does, where their strengths lie and what they want to achieve. After that, I develop a concept. Only once this concept is in place do I begin the actual design work. This applies just as much to a large corporation as it does to a small bike hire business or a baker.

To be known without being recognised.

Both happen. Personally, though, I don’t find trends a particularly important guide. I tend to try to develop solutions that arise from the specific content and the specific task at hand. If you’re constantly looking at what’s currently in vogue, there’s a risk that your own work will become irrelevant.

For me, technology is a tool, not an end in itself. Of course, I work digitally. But when it comes to print in particular, I’m also interested in the things that technology alone cannot replace: paper, materials, printing, finishing and tactile qualities. Technology should serve the idea, not dictate it.

Standard graphics programmes and analogue tools.

A very significant one. In print design in particular, materiality is a key part of the design process. I work intensively with papers, print finishes and various production options. In an exhibition, space, colour, material and atmosphere also come into play. All of this influences how people perceive content.

Ideally, they shouldn’t even notice it, but simply be satisfied because everything is just right. I want the design not to seem arbitrary, but for the subconscious to understand that there’s an idea behind it.

Probably, first of all, the question: How was this created? I’m less interested in the surface alone than in the thinking behind it. Why was this particular material chosen?

Why this shape? What’s the idea behind it? I find it fascinating to dissect a design and understand the decisions that led to it. And, of course: who made it? And then perhaps get in touch and expand my network.

Absolutely. I really enjoy working with others. This is particularly natural when it comes to exhibitions, because that’s where different areas of expertise come together – designers, historians, illustrators, architects and many others. I also find the exchange with my clients important. Good design doesn’t happen in a vacuum.

There are so many different people. Naturally, the people in my professional network have been particularly important to me. Through exhibitions with illustrators, for example, I’ve built up a network of around 120 illustrators from all over the world. These people and their work continue to influence my own work to this day – not necessarily in terms of design style, but through the possibilities that arise from them.

I’m a huge fan of print publications and magazines. I’ve conveniently sorted my collection of around 1,500 books (graphic design, architecture, branding, biology, art, history, culture, …) and comics by colour. At home, I also have copies of *Brand Eins*, *Katapult*, *Fluter*, *Mare* and *dummy*. I make a point of buying such publications and also look out for interesting magazines whilst out and about in station bookshops.

Through a combination of my studies, practical experience and continuous learning. Looking back, I learnt far more during my studies than I realised at the time. But, of course, much of it only comes through professional practice. You have to take on projects, make mistakes, try things out and keep tackling new topics. And you have to be prepared to teach yourself. The many different international design awards I’ve won confirm this to some extent.

I’m generally interested in people who come from completely different fields to me. It’s precisely this exchange that continually enriches my work. And pop stars who aren’t above playing at a little party in my garden.

Awards are lovely, of course, and it’s nice when your work is recognised. For me, however, they’re primarily a tool. Awards can be a decision-making aid, particularly for clients, because they give them a certain sense of security. And sometimes they also help when discussing budgets. Being famous isn’t the goal for me.

As Walter Gropius said: ‘Colourful’ is my favourite colour. My favourite place is wherever my family and friends are. I’ll eat whatever’s on the table – as long as it’s tasty. And music is also very important.

One of the craziest stories was definitely the colleague who, after two days on Föhr, simply packed his bag and disappeared. He’d left his workstation set up, files open and everything as it was – and was already on the ferry when I rang him. He’d simply got island fever.

Another story illustrates quite well how things come about for me: a few cartoons for my satirical newspaper suddenly turned into an exhibition featuring around 30 illustrators. Later, this grew into exhibitions with more than 100 and eventually around 120 participants. You can hardly plan something like that.

I don’t really need any special motivation techniques. I still enjoy my work. When a new project comes along and I realise I can really get stuck into it, that’s motivation enough for me. And I really like it when an idea suddenly turns into something that nobody had planned that way before.

My father is an architect and had his office at home. So, naturally, I used to draw plans for my LEGO houses. Creativity and structure were there right from the start.

Design will continue to evolve, particularly through digital technologies. At the same time, I firmly believe that people will still want to touch, look at and experience things. That’s why, in my opinion, print, spaces, exhibitions and physical design will continue to exist.

As Wilhelm Busch said: “The best way to say what you mean seriously is to say it in jest.”

I grew up in a household where design and architecture were always at the forefront. My father is an architect and took us on holidays and school trips to famous buildings and special exhibitions from an early age. As a child, I used to draw Lego houses and was very knowledgeable when it came to drawing views or floor plans of houses. This laid the foundation for my design work. Since my mother and sister also worked in my father's office, there was a lot of talk about work – i.e. architecture – and that was also the reason why I wanted to become a designer and not an architect, because it annoyed me a lot at school that it was all about architecture. And that's how I became more interested in design. After training as a cabinetmaker, I studied in Essen, Copenhagen, Paris and Cologne.

With my design studio, I have been working for 25 years in the fields of corporate design and exhibition design, exhibition conception, editorial design and copywriting. In between, I also published a satirical newspaper for 10 years. I was responsible for all topics, texts and graphics as well as the entire layout of this newspaper. Many different artists contributed to it, which led to numerous joint projects.

For me, design is primarily communication. Communication between senders and receivers. The senders are my clients, whom I advise in all kinds of areas. Of course, these are often design-related topics. But design, i.e. the pure design of graphics or products or even interior design, does not end with formal aspects. In my view, the design of a service, the design of one's own behaviour and the design of how customers are addressed are also very important aspects of design: the consistency of designed projects. This is particularly evident in corporate designs or exhibitions, because they bring together a wide variety of disciplines.

My work focuses on corporate design and exhibitions. I particularly enjoy doing this when different disciplines come together. So when the job involves everything from designing a logo to creating the music that might be played in the salesroom, to the architecture or the design of clothing. My favourite part of the job is actually developing a colour and typography concept, because I believe that this is where the central elements that are extremely important for everything else come into play.

My favourite design is Arne Jacobsen's hotel in Copenhagen, the SAS Hotel. Because it has been designed comprehensively and consistently. From the cutlery to the building envelope, from the decor on the curtains to the furniture, from the lamps to the scents and the carpets. Arne Jacobsen thought everything through completely.

The first job I got when I was self-employed was to design an exhibition about 400 million years of Earth's history.

My favourite material is wood. I don't have a favourite platform. My favourite technology is actually anything that can be made by hand.

There is no specific time. It is more a certain approach that makes me creative. I am very observant. Every day, I see things in my environment that influence my current work. I read a lot. I do a lot of research, and during these activities, connections with the current assignment emerge. These connections are necessary to get the creative process going.

In my opinion, the most important thing for all design processes is that they are based on a robust concept. This concept is the starting point for all further work. If the concept is good and well thought out, all subsequent activities can be developed very effectively, economically and, above all, in a consistent design manner.

That depends very much on the subject matter. I have a wide variety of clients and a wide variety of tasks, and therefore a wide variety of topics. It starts with comics for children, moves on to exhibition design for a football club, continues with the corporate identity of an architecture firm, and doesn't end with an exhibition for a memorial site on the topic of Nazi ‘euthanasia’ or the yearbook for the 100th anniversary of a golf club. As a result, my emotions range from intense joy to a determined commitment to a well-thought-out, educational concept.

Here, too, it depends very much on the subject. Most of the time, it's pride, followed very quickly by great joy, and thirdly, it's confidence that new projects will continue to develop from this.

If we knew that, everything would be much easier. I believe that a design is successful when it can be understood quickly and has at least a little joke or creative twist. And when it gives people who see it a moment of joy, amazement, learning or understanding. I also believe that successful design is only possible when you put yourself on the same level as the consumer and present particularly difficult issues in a simple, and if possible, positive way.

Distinguishing good design from bad design is not an easy task, especially if you are a designer yourself. A good design has internalised the aspects I have already mentioned; the design form or look and feel is not that important in the end. This is often a matter of taste. What is more important is that everything fits together. The rest then almost takes care of itself.

The responsibility of a designer is more important than one might initially assume. On the one hand, many aspects of society converge today, making society more complex, and on the other hand, issues have become so diverse and problematic that designers have the task of breaking down barriers to communication. In this respect, it is a very important and central task in the transmission of important information that it is well designed and consumable. On the other hand, sustainability is now an integral part of everyday work. The way things are produced, the choice of materials, the logistics behind the scenes, the form of cooperation, the choice of vehicles to get to customer appointments: all of this plays a role. The role model function and self-image of the designer are also very important here: customers can recognise and learn how things can be done. What possibilities exist for sustainable and environmentally friendly behaviour. And, of course, what impact they have on their own customers. Credibility is not achieved by recognising problems, but exclusively by taking action.

Despite all the hype surrounding artificial intelligence (AI), I believe that the most important tasks performed by designers can still be done by humans – and, above all, should be. The empathetic ability of humans to analyse and identify problems correctly and use their own background and knowledge to develop good solutions that are primarily based on a humane approach will ensure that the profession of designer continues to exist. However, I believe that it will be very challenging for the younger generation to develop their own language, as this is becoming much more arbitrary, uniform and interchangeable due to the prevalence of prompted examples.

The last exhibition I designed is currently on display at the Verkehrsmuseum in Dresden. It is called ‘On the Road Again! The World of Truckers’ and deals with the life and work of truck drivers with the aim of promoting greater understanding of this industry. The next exhibition I will be designing or conceiving has not yet been decided.

I draw inspiration for my work from my immediate surroundings, e.g. from conversations with my family, friends and acquaintances. Travelling to places near and far also constantly offers me new perspectives on design and how to approach it. Through research in books, museums and on the internet, but also by listening to music and watching films or series, I gain a wealth of impressions that I use and incorporate into my work.

I would describe my style as reserved, precise and clearly defined. When it comes to brand images, a touch of humour, interpretation of traditional patterns or structures also play a role. When it comes to exhibition concepts, it's different. Fun and humour – if the subject allows – are at the forefront. Because I am always reminded of a quote – I think it was Wilhelm Busch – who said, ‘What you mean seriously is best said in jest.’ And that actually symbolises the approach to communication work in my office.

I live in Germany on a small island in the North Sea. On the one hand, this means that many of my clients who do not live on the island enjoy coming to the island for appointments. Germany has a very good heritage in the creative field with the Bauhaus and the Ulm School. Many well-known designers who have shaped the world have also left their mark here. On the other hand, however, Germans are not as naturally attuned to design aspects as, for example, the Scandinavian population. There is no strong sense of self-awareness here when it comes to evaluating interior design, for example. Many people in Germany are more influenced by corporations such as IKEA and less by a deep understanding of design. That's why I always try to promote how you can create good quality with simple means – both in a professional and private context.

As a freelance creative director, I work predominantly on my own, which means I frequently interact with other companies, artists and concepts. I often collaborate with colleagues from the fields of science, history, culture and economics. This usually results in working groups that come together temporarily for a project. But these partnerships are also helpful for later projects, and new formations and networks based on trust are created. I have known many of my colleagues for a very long time and always come back to them.

In my opinion, it is essential for companies to engage intensively with the topics of design, communication and the impact of design. I also consider it very important for companies to have their own design strategy. In order to find the right designer, it is important that the company has already developed a strategy or at least written a kind of white paper setting out specific topics and requirements for a potential design agency. This lays the foundation for approaching a specific studio with a particular focus, special expertise or comparable projects. This makes it easier to find the right design agency or designer. Recommendations from friends in business or employees are also a good way to find the right studio.

In my studio, the design process almost always takes place in a similar way. It doesn't matter what kind of project it is. It always starts with a detailed discussion about the topic, the task and the time and cost framework. I then prepare a detailed quote in which all aspects of the task are presented chronologically and accompanied by a cost estimate. I then always start with a concept, which forms the basis for everything that follows. The concept is the backbone for all the work that is then carried out. Once the concept has been approved, all the tasks at hand are completed.

The ant by Arne Jacobsen, the Safari chair by IKEA, the wooden figure by Alfredo Häberli for Berendsohn, the inlay work from the North Frisian Islands by my father-in-law Welf Schiller, the poster for the Sam Francis exhibition at the Bundeskunsthalle Bonn in 1990.

My day begins with a delicious breakfast, sometimes followed by a walk with our dog. The morning is spent working on current projects. There is a nice long lunch break. In the afternoon, I reserve time for project research and client appointments before heading to the beach in the evening.

I think the most important thing is not to be afraid. Just try everything, embrace new and unfamiliar things, learn something new every day, and give yourself time to develop your own creative language.

The great advantage of being a designer is that you are responsible for the final design of a project at the end of a content or economic chain. This gives you the opportunity to create something truly special, whether it's a new idea or something based on a long-established profession, simply through the quality of your work. One disadvantage of the profession is perhaps that you are always at the end of a project. If there is any money left over, it can be spent on the designers. However, this is often not the case, and savings are made in this area. The motto is: ‘My brother-in-law's son can do the same thing for a crate of beer.’ A second disadvantage, which I would rather see as an opportunity, is that designers are sometimes involved too late in a process. I have often managed to come on board in time to work with those responsible to develop solutions at an early stage that are beneficial to the project.

A golden rule could well be: ‘To build a ship, you need more than just wood.’ A second rule, which is personally very important to me, is that you should do everything you do with joy and enthusiasm.

Empathy. A willingness to listen. Developing and presenting ideas. Perseverance. Being optimistic and staying optimistic. Getting things done.

In my daily work, I naturally use a wide variety of programmes, including graphics programmes, photo editing programmes, drawing programmes, word processing programmes, internet browsers, email programmes, note-taking programmes, video conferencing programmes and telephone programmes. In addition, I use a lot of craft materials, from cardboard and cutting mats to bookbinding tools, drills, sanders and saws. I also frequently use my surroundings to incorporate them into presentations or models. For inspiration and information, I use a wide variety of trade magazines, books, of course, lots of comics and graphic novels, and I exchange ideas with artist friends.

Structuring a project is one of the most important tasks in day-to-day business. New projects differ greatly from ongoing projects or existing customer relationships. New projects start with a period of 4-8 weeks to develop a concept. Depending on the topic, this can take longer.

Here, too, it depends greatly on the project. There are exhibition projects or book projects that take a year and a half. There are visual identities or visualisations that take six months. There are competition entries for major exhibitions or similar events that take three weeks to complete before presentation. As I said, it depends very much on the task at hand and often on the client's specifications.

Have you always wanted to do that?

There is no single most important piece of professional experience, but one that has had a strong influence on me is that I try never to go into a meeting unprepared. Despite my extensive experience and expertise, I believe it is absolutely essential to be respectful and well prepared when communicating with others in order to engage with them on an equal footing.

My clients come from a wide range of industries, including agriculture, culture, museums, banking, retail, sports, consulting, publishing and architecture.

I enjoy developing concepts the most, as it allows me to combine content and design and tailor my work to the topic, the client or the project in question. Only when I have the right idea, the truly brilliant idea, and realise that it is robust and can be applied to the required and requested formats, am I confident that I am on the right track, and I am usually very happy about that.

At the moment, I am working on the visual identity for an architecture firm, a mailing for a printing company, advertising measures for a local bank, and a large-scale campaign for a German specialist publisher.

I frequently work in teams when the project requires it, drawing on a wide range of disciplines from illustration to writing, science to programming. However, I usually create designs and concepts myself, covering everything from logos to decoration, screen design to exhibition graphics. I then work with many partners who implement these designs later on.

I am currently working on an exciting project. It involves designing teaching materials for the Frisian language, which is spoken on the islands of Föhr and Amrum. This language is primarily passed down through families and is spoken by a small minority in Germany, exclusively on these two islands. On behalf of a foundation, I have developed teaching materials for the first, second, third and fourth grades, as well as a songbook to keep the language alive and, above all, to make it fun for children. The language is still taught in primary schools on the islands.

You can always reach me online, by phone, by email or in person. My contact details are already known. I am always delighted to receive new project enquiries.

I think it's extremely important that the profession of design continues to evolve in such a way that it can have a positive impact and be seen as something created by people. The development of AI may lead many people to think that they can do it themselves or simply leave it to computers. But I believe that this will hardly be possible, because the human aspect, perception, personal exchange, experience, special events, joy and fun – all these things can hardly be combined by a computer in such a way that a coherent overall picture emerges. There are certainly beautifully designed examples that are purely computer-generated, but hopefully it will always be humans who decide why a design is personal, warm, cheerful or impressive. And that's why I really hope that the next generation doesn't have too much respect for these technologies, but simply learns to use them to develop their own ideas.

During my first visit to the winery and many visits to the island of Föhr in old captains' houses, I discovered that a large number of hand-painted, historic tiles were used in the houses. The island's history of captains and seafarers is often depicted on these tiles. The Roeloffs family, one of the initiators of the winery, has had many captains in their family. This goes back to the 14th century. There are various paintings from this period, but also stories and hand-painted tiles and the whole atmosphere of the island. Föhr is characterised by these maritime elements. The winery itself, located on an island in the North Sea, is so unique that it was obvious to combine these two things. The winery is located directly on the North Sea and its founder is a member of the island's impressive seafaring family. In my opinion, there is no other option but to link these two things together.

The polar bear, a typical symbol of climate change (we all have the image of a polar bear on a melting ice floe in our minds), appears here as a positive, identity-forming element. It is only thanks to climate change that wine growing has become possible on Föhr. In addition, the winery itself houses the largest private library on the subject of climate protection and climate change.

Technically speaking, I took photos on the island of the surroundings of the objects and on the winery. From this, it gradually became clear which objects were more suitable for colouring, which for graphic representation and which for pictorial representation. Then I first created a colour catalogue. I selected fonts and turned all the tiles I had photographed into individual objects that could then be used in a variety of ways and customised depending on their application. I made reproductions of the paintings and had them painted on traditional tiles by a Dutch artist. These tiles were also digitised.

Above all, it was my intensive study of Northern European and especially insular seafaring that made storytelling possible in the first place. After discovering that maritime history is very well documented, I created a chronology of the various captains with their ships and names. This documentation allowed me to see where the respective captains had sailed with their ships and develop suggestions for how we could use these stories. The names of the captains, such as Roeloffs, Riewerts and Rörden, are so distinctive that they were also suitable as proper names for the spirits. This made it possible to show the tile with the ship that the respective captain was sailing on the bottle. And so a very unique spirit was created that is connected to a captain, his ship and the history of the ship, and thus also to the winery.

The graphic reduction was necessary to ensure clarity. The drinks are sold through specialist retailers and shops. There is an incredible variety of bottles available, many of them very decorative. We wanted to stand out clearly from the crowd and, above all, strengthen the distinctive brand image of ‘Das Weingut mit dem Eisbären’ (The Winery with the Polar Bear).

The Clan font shapes the overall look. The Revista and Rostrot fonts are more product-oriented. I also worked on other projects related to the winery's operators, where it was important to create links. These include the Museum Kunst, the Westküste and Gretchens Gasthof. I have already used the Clan font for both of these and have won various design awards for other reasons as well. The font contributes greatly to strengthening the cohesion and connection between the various ventures and links that also exist in terms of organisation and personnel.

The square itself is a very good way of structuring a wide variety of formats. The fact that it forms the basis here is, of course, due to the tiles on the captains' houses. Nevertheless, everything has been tailored to these tiles: from the business card to the website. In the latter case, a separate design and programming concept was developed to enable the tile idea to be implemented on all end devices.

To be completely honest, I wasn't influenced by the traditional visual codes of the wine industry. It's more that I wanted to break away from the established and common codes, patterns and approaches.

When it came to the colour scheme, I also took the basics from the museum and the inn, which I mentioned earlier. I added colours from the immediate surroundings of the winery. These are mainly colours of the sky (sunny, cloudy, stormy), the changing sea and the mudflats. And also the wood, which in this case can also be called flotsam. I then defined the exact colour harmony depending on their use, their demarcation and the expansion of the overall colour spectrum.

That's a very good question, which I can't answer at the moment. As the product range is constantly changing and I am only involved in the product development process at a later stage, I can't say exactly how the link to local heritage can continue to be guaranteed. If the products continue to be produced directly on the island or with elements from the island (e.g. botanicals), then I don't see any difficulties. If the product range develops in such a way that other locations (e.g. South Africa or Georgia) also supplement their own wines, then another line may need to be developed.