cut and paste commentary

I figure an overview of my experience in San Francisco at the Cut and Paste Competition is in order. I figure this mostly because of how fun, surreal, and nerve-wracking it was. Frankly, if I didn't have such zen-like control of my bowels, I would have been shitting myself throughout the duration of the whole event.
For those not in the know, Cut and Paste is a live, multi-round design competition where eight young graphic artists battle each other by creating 2D images based on unified themes and canvases. The atmosphere is a crucible thanks to the 1,100 people in attendance, gigantic screens where your work is projected live, distinguished judges breathing down your neck, live cameraman projecting your furrowed eyebrows and sweaty forehead on an even gigantic-er screen, and intimidating competitors interested in making you look like a no-talent hack in front of strangers, your friends, and your mom.
I could go on and on, but photos seem more effective.






Credit for these beauties goes to Jason Lewis

So here's how it goes down: months before the event, portfolios are submitted by designers with something to prove, then from there the pool of applicants is narrowed-down and those who the powers-that-be deem to be dope enough are called back to participate in a test round. The test round uses the same format as the real event (15 minutes to create an image based on a provided theme and canvas, no pre-made artwork is allowed), except with a smaller crowd. From there, the best test-takers are invited to compete for real, eight in all, at the gorgeous SF Galleria in front of people who pay $15 to watch and buy $7 beers to enjoy it.
Crazy, I know.
It's comparable to a writer typing away on Microsoft Word in front of a screaming audience which erupts in cheers each time a sick metaphor is laid down, and "oh snap" is yelled if iambic pentameter is changed to tetrameter mid-prose.
Did I mention the screaming?
As you can imagine working on a computer isn't the most physically exciting activity to watch, so whenever a competitor does something above and beyond sitting in a chair, staring at a monitor, and clicking a mouse, it gets a reaction. I remember standing to photograph a spoon for use in one of my pieces, and being washed-over by screams accompanied with shouts of "SPOOOOOON!" from below. As self-absorbed as it may sound, and trust me when I say that for I'm a fairly self-absorbed person, it was hard not to feel like a rock star.

For posterity's sake, and for those curious, below are my submissions.

Test round | Theme: "bliss" | Canvas: t-shirt


Live round 1 | Theme: "metamorphosis" | Canvas: place setting


Final live round | Theme: "the naked truth" | Canvas: underwear


One thing I can be proud of is that I did not confine myself to a single style; I thought I made a respectable showing. Respectable enough, possibly, to win the entire thing and reap the rewards of being a champion: a sweet crown, a Wacom Cintiq, and an invitation to compete in the world championship later this year against the winners of Cut and Paste events from fifteen other international cities.

However, when all was said and done, I walked away tied for third. And while I may or may not have taken a day off from work to sulk about my loss, I realize now that I've got nothing to be ashamed about. Sure, I wanted to win about as much as I want to get the high score on my local Galaga machine--which for your information is more than I've ever wanted anything in my life--but I realize the decision making process by which competitors were either granted or denied entrance to continue in the competition was entirely subjective on the part of the judges and not grounded in any concrete criteria (more or less, all I could do was try and please myself with my work and hope for the best). In my opinion, this is evidenced by the results, where you can see that neither of the two competitors with whom I was most impressed, Emily Glaubinger and Panos Vassilladis, were selected to move on. Obviously I feel I should have won (obvious because I don't think there was anyone competing who could say any differently about him or herself without instantly being struck-down by a lightning bolt from heaven for being a dirty rotten liar). But as I hope you can tell from the previous sections of this entry, I walked away with so much from the experience alone and am terribly grateful and overjoyed to have participated at all. That, and I know Allison Torneros is going to properly represent at the world championship later this year.



And for the record, my fellow competitors are all stand-up, talented individuals; they, more than anyone, made it an experience I'll not soon forget.