19 March 2025

Lean On Pete: In conversation with production designer Ryan Warren Smith

Chloë Sevigny and Charlie Plummer in “Lean on Pete”. Photo by Scott Patrick Green – © Lean on Pete LLC

 

I wish I watched Lean On Pete on the big screen. Andrew Haigh’s characters feel real, people you want to get to know in life, people who have a past they don’t have to tell you about every time you meet, people who you feel you understand just by the way they react or look instead of a long monologue. The big screen would bring you closer to them, heart and soul. On the big screen, they reach people differently, and people come together, sensing others’ thoughts, reactions and emotions. At the big screen, we would be looking upwards, into the horizon, with perspective. It would be our own subtle and sensible way of showing that we are by Charley’s side.

Charley (Charlie Plummer) and his single father Ray (Travis Fimmel) have just moved to Portland, Oregon. They live on the edge of poverty and life is about to only get harder for Charley. It’s at a race track where he meets Lean On Pete, a racing horse. He runs by the place one morning when he encounters Del, who starts to give him day jobs that earn Charley some money. He quickly forms a bond with the horse and as things begin to unravel, Charley finds in Pete what is missing from his life, someone to talk to and someone to take care of, things he is desperately in need of, as he is embarking on a journey through the Pacific Northwest to find his aunt. There is something elemental about Charley’s search for a family life. It’s Charlie who draws you in, to come closer and try to be near him when he has nobody else but Pete. This kind of rapport between character and viewer is only possible because the film stays true to the character and to what happens to him along his journey. It’s also true to all the other characters, like Pete’s irascible owner Del and the well versed jockey Bonnie: they belong to Steve Buscemi and Chloë Sevigny, you believe them because they are multi-dimensional characters and part of the story, just as they are part of Charlie’s life at one particular point, with good and bad.

There is hardship, but there is kindness, too, there is cruelty, but there is always a streak of hope, and this kind of hope, I think, particularly resides in 15-year-old Charley, and in Charlie Plummer, who, with his incredible expressiveness, dedication and instinctive acting, gives life to Charley on screen. Feeling is the ground on which people are led to think about things. It is the film’s unsentimental tenderness that gives you the freedom to make your own ideas. With Lean On Pete, based on Willy Vlautin’s novel by the same name, Andrew Haigh brings to cinema a world of an incredible humanist depth and an undeniable technical skill that translates into a wonderfully natural rhythm that drives the narrative, which resides in an innate talent for visual storytelling.

When you are watching a good film, a beautifully crafted story, you are not watching just an interesting character, it’s about the world you are suddenly transported into. The towns, the run-down racing track, the vastness of the land that echoes the protagonist’s inner desolation. A real-life set or location has a life of its own, which, linked with a specific character, takes on a different life, it changes and affects the flow of the story and evolves with the character and the entire mood of the film. It harbors the characters, it gives them the right space to live and develop in. I think it was Nicolas Roeg who said that production design brings together all the departments of film making, in searching for a truth in everything.

When I interviewed production designer Ryan Warren Smith last year for The Holdovers, we promised we would have a conversation on Lean On Pete as well, a film Ryan holds very close to his heart, as he does all Willy Vlautin’s (a good friend of his) books. We have finally had the chance to have that talk and to discuss everything from Ryan’s first meeting with director Andrew Haigh, two years prior the filming started, how he mapped out Charley’s emotional and physical journey through color coding, to a defining location in the film that no longer exists and one of the most emotional days on the set.

 

Charlie Plummer in Lean on Pete. Photo by Scott Patrick Green – © Lean on Pete LLC

 

Ryan, you started your collaboration with Alexander Payne after he watched Lean On Pete at Telluride. Can you tell us how your film with Andrew Haigh came about? Had you read Willy Vlautin’s novel before taking on this project?

Yes! Willy’s novel is one of my top 5 favorite books of all time. I love it so much. I had met Willy a few years prior when I was lucky to be PD on his first book that was adapted to film (The Motel Life) and he and I become fast friends. We both live in Oregon and would hang when we were both in town. He let me know that Lean on Pete had been optioned by Andrew to be made into a film. He also let me know Andrew was going to be coming through town, as he had decided to take Charley’s journey in the book, spend a few months taking the trip, and writing the script along the way. I thought this was such a brilliant idea. So when Andrew came through town Willy had us both over to dinner, and I was able to express my love of the book and interest in the film. We had a good time hanging, and was happy to meet Andrew and his boyfriend Andy. A couple of years went by and then Andrew and his producer, Tristan, hit me up saying the film was finally happening and asked if I wanted to interview. I made a visual lookbook and passed it along and then we had a great conversation. A week later they offered me the film and I’ve never been so excited. To be in charge of the visuals of a book you truly love, I was, and still am, so honored.

 
 

“I’m a big fan of his books, even a bigger fan of Willy as a person.
I’ve had to get better at separating the two [book and film]
when I’ve done as much as I can to stick up for them. In the end,
these are two separate pieces of art, with one heart.”

 
 

When we love a book, we make our own image of the characters, and although we really can’t compare a book with a film, sometimes we can’t resist the association with the book. And I was curious to know how you feel, as an insider and as part of shaping up this visual story, if there is anything from the story from the book that you keep in the back of your mind when you follow the script. Charlie Plummer is wonderful in the role and I wouldn’t imagine anyone else in that role. You have adapted three novels of Willy Vlautin’s for the big screen. Do you find it difficult to let go of a story and embrace a new version of it?

Oh, my God, so much. It’s so hard for me. I love these books so much and, over the years, Willy and I have become close friends. We go to breakfast every few months and spend a few hours talking. He tells me about what he’s writing, of these characters that I eventually come to love in his books. It’s a really magical and beautiful friendship. I’m a huge fan of his books, even a bigger fan of Willy as a person, so getting an early glimpse and to getting know and love Willy, it becomes really personal for me. It’s like I need to protect these characters, because they are my friends. A lot of the time, I feel like that’s part of why I’m there – to love them like he does, and I do because they are all Willy, they are all my friends. All that being said, I’ve had to get better at separating the two, when I’ve done as much as I can to stick up for them. In the end, these are two separate pieces of art, with one heart.

 

Charlie Plummer in “Lean on Pete”. Photo by Scott Patrick Green

 

The background is a big part of the naturalism and authenticity of the film. So what was the starting point of your work as production designer?

As I mentioned before, Andrew had taken a road trip that Charley takes in the book when adapting the script. He also made a photo book of this journey and gave it to me when we first started. I’ll forever treasure it. Andrew, being English, had a real outsiders point of view of America, which I found so inspiring. So we just dove in, started scouting, driving the state looking for the real places in the book/script, but also places that we could cheat for Colorado, and all the places in between. Those early days are so simple on a film, very little people around, and all the time is ahead of you. I always start there, driving around with the director, seeing what we gravitate towards. All while having Charley and the book in our hearts.

 
 

”I always start there, driving around with the director,
seeing what we gravitate towards.”

 
 

I am glad you mentioned Andrew’s outsider point of view, which I myself find very important. When Charlie is stranded in the desert, for example, the landscape is impressive and beautiful, and I don’t know what the impact on American audiences is, but as a non-American myself I do notice that open space and vastness, but what I mostly like about it is that it serves the story, the focus remains on the character. And it is because we relate to it through Charley that makes it that much more beautiful and daunting. How much of a challenge was this de-romanticizing of the landscape?

Yes, that’s always a thing in these vast beautiful spaces, how to make them look more drab. We thought on this a lot. Figured out where we could build a broken down fence, add a faded dying car. Where we could add desperation in beauty. We also worked very hard to achieve this through colors. Where it should be bright, where it should be faded. It was also an important decision on what color to have Charlie in, while in the vast nature/beauty. We chose a nicely faded red t-shirt, as it wouldn’t get lost in the green or sage of the surroundings.

 

Film poster for “Lean on Pete”

 
 

“That’s always a thing in these vast beautiful spaces,
how to make them look more drab. We thought on this a lot.
Where we could add desperation in beauty.”

 
 

Charlie Plummer in “Lean on Pete”. Photo by Scott Patrick Green

 

I love how one of the posters for the film picked up on that colour scheme against the vast landscape and that choice definitely makes a change in Charley’s journey. In our last interview, you told me that you always keep lookbooks and color schemes as reference for your set designs. In Lean On Pete, Charley is trying to cope with whatever comes along, managing to keep some kind of hope amidst all the hardships, and you actually feel that the slow pace of the film is telling us that the passing of time will guide him through it. What did you feel you had to focus on to reveal where Charlie is on his journey?

Yes, I always try to make a sort of lookbook which works as a map to what things should feel like in the film. It’s interesting looking back at this lookbook as what I created was very specific on where colors should be washed out and faded, where they should be bright and hopeful. In the lookbook, I mapped it out like this: when we are in Portland, at the beginning of the film, colors should feel brighter, hopeful. As things start to unravel, the colors begin to fade, and this continues as he makes his way away from Oregon, until he gets to Colorado, where the rules change to be more chaotic. Bright neon lights on faded paint. By the time he makes it to Aunt Margy’s home, the colors become warm, inviting.

 

Charlie Plummer in “Lean on Pete”. Photo by Scott Patrick Green

 

The film opens and ends with Charley and his morning run in his neighborhood. The difference is, of course, that he is in a different place, both physically and emotionally, and that’s why I find that choice for an ending very powerful, yet, thankfully, not sentimental.

I agree. We shot that last shot on the last day of shooting, it was actually all we shot that day, the ending. It was really special, we had all been through so much, following Charley on his journey (both the actor and the character). I remember when we called cut, Charlie cried. It was really beautiful and moving. I also remember when my brother drove me back to our place that day, I broke down and cried too. It was a cry that felt like victory, like relief, like achieving another dream. All the continuous pushing of the project had stopped, eased. It was really special. Not all films end this way, everyone this connected and invested. I feel like that must come through in the work. I feel the audience has to feel this.

 

It did for me. And I understand how, for the ones involved in the making of a film such as yourself, a film takes up so much mental energy especially when you love a script so much and invest so much emotionally in not just the film, but the back stories, too, as is in this case Willy’s book and characters. When did you watch the film for the first time? Did you watch it with an audience?

I watched it at the Toronto Film Festival for the first and only time. My brother and I flew out there and met up with Andrew and got to see it premier with an audience. It was a very surreal and beautiful experience. This was the first full film that my brother got to make with me, he was the art director, which was a ton of fun for us to create together. It was a special summer making the film, and very cool to go see it together in Toronto.

 
 

“Not all films end this way, everyone this connected and invested.
I feel like that must come through in the work.
I feel the audience has to feel this.”

 
 

So filmmaking runs in the family. Who started first to work in film, you or your brother? Have you worked on many movies together?

Yes, we’ve both ended up working together for a long stretch. I started first making movies as a kid, and then later in life he got Art Department jobs in Los Angeles before me. When I first moved to Los Angeles to make a go at making movies, I lived in a tent in his backyard. He got his start in construction, building sets and then we both worked our way up to Production Design, him in commercials and me in films. He has since moved on from the business, and now lives happily in Australia. I miss collaborating with him so much. Lean On Pete was our only full film together, but we did countless commercials together. He also came and helped me for a few days here and there on Wendy and Lucy.

 

Charlie Plummer in “Lean on Pete”. Photo by Scott Patrick Green – © Lean on Pete LLC

Left: Willy Vlautin and Ryan Warren Smith on Charley’s set. Photo courtesy of Ryan Warren Smith
Right: Charlie Plummer and Travis Fimmel in “Lean on Pete”. Photo by Scott Patrick Green

 

Where was that ending scene filmed?

A really wonderful town in Eastern Oregon called Burns, Oregon. It’s a great little pocket in the middle of nowhere. It’s also where I worked on a film called Meek’s Cutoff with Kelly Reichardt.

 

That is one of my favourite Kelly Reichardt films. Again, just as with Lean on Pete, I was marked by that landscape, so vast, but the characters’ world is so confined that you come to inhabit their world, aware of every single sound and fact about their everyday life, about their moves, about their manners, about their clothes. I interviewed costume designer Vicki Farrell a few years back and she told me that the hands-on experience of making Meek’s Cutoff was very special.

Meek’s is still the hardest film I ever made. I was called in last minute to just handle props on the film. It was such a fun special experience. We all stayed at a hotel that was shaped like a horseshoe, and would have bonfires in the middle of the weekends. Everyone became so close and many wonderful friendships were formed. I was so happy to go back and shoot Lean on Pete here. I love that these two films somehow exist in the same world, just many years apart.

 

Charley’s most valuable possession is probably the photo of him and his aunt Margy, and then, his dad’s belt. Were there any other particular little things that you used to help define the image of the protagonist, aside from the colours he is wearing?

We were able to mess around with this through set dressing in Charley’s room. Things were still packed up from the move, but we showed a few details of his interests, his past life. Running and football trophies, a t-shirt from the high school he must have moved away from in Washington, all details from the book. It feels they keep little and move often. Then Charley has to leave so quickly that he only takes a few things, and that’s why he hangs on so tight to the belt and photo. It’s all he has left.

 

When Charley is reunited with his aunt, he tells her he wants to go to school and play football again. Having a home was what he was longing for the most, but I liked the feeling I had that football will help him a lot, too, in the future to find a sense of belonging.

Agreed, it gives the feeling that he will find friends again and have normalcy. That’s all we can hope for him.

 

On the set of “Lean on Pete”. Clockwise from top left: Jonny, the art director, measuring to cover signage / New signs covering the original / Andrew Haigh and Magnus Jønck on set / Andrew Haigh on set. Photos courtesy of Ryan Warren Smith

 

 

Does the horse racing track in the film exist in reality? Was there anything you had to build for the settings?

Yes, it did exist. That was a legendary horse track here in Portland, called Portland Meadows. It’s actually where Willy wrote the book. He would go and bet on horses and watch people and write. We fought very hard to shoot here. They didn’t want us to use their real name, so we built signs to cover theres, etc. So everything you see was the real place. The track side, the back area where they keep the horses, and the diner. It all existed and we were lucky to capture it. It’s since been torn down and Amazon built warehouses there. My heart breaks every time I drive by it.

 
 

“I’m so happy that we could shoot it in the real place that
it was written for, and also capture the special place that it was.
It’s so important to capture these places before they all disappear.”

 
 

That’s terrible. Do you think you would have recreated it if they had already torn it down at the time of filming, or would you have found another horse track location to work for the story?

I feel we would have found an alternative horse track to shoot at. I’m so happy that we could shoot it in the real place that it was written for, and also capture the special place that it was.

 

That’s one of the things we are grateful for films. Beyond their artistic and creative side, films, especially the ones shot on location, have a historical importance, and the only way some places that no longer exist in reality can still be visited. That’s another reason why I have great appreciation for production designers and also still photographers. It’s often the film stills that leave an iconic legacy and will stay with us beyond the end credits, and beyond the big screen.

Yes, I feel the same. It’s so important to capture these places before they all disappear. I am so happy we got to do this with Portland Meadows.

 

Clockwise from top left: Set decorator Jenelle Giordano in Del’s tackroom. Photo courtesy of Ryan Warren Smith
Charley in Del’s tackroom | Charlie Plummer, Chloë Sevigny and Steve Buscemi in “Lean on Pete”. Photo by Scott Patrick Green

 

You live in Oregon, where the film largely takes place. Do you find it easier or more challenging to work with a familiar place?

I love it. I feel like Oregon is such a wonderful pocket in an insane country. I connect with so much here, the outdoors, the politics, it’s home. So I love when I get to shoot here as it’s a part of my heart at this point, and I want to show all its sides.

 

Kelly Reichardt’s Wendy and Lucy is another film you made in Oregon. How was that experience like?

That was a wonderful experience. That was my first film as production designer, after trying for years. It was a small crew, of maybe 12 people, and we made the film out of my Volkswagen van. I made lifelong friends on that film, and it was a film that was seen, so it afforded me to keep making films, which I’m forever grateful for.

 

Lean on Pete, Wendy and Lucy, The Holdovers were all shot on location. Have you also shot on a sound stage? What is most challenging about that?

Yes, a ton. In the film Green Room, we built all the main interiors on stage. Same on True Detective. I am always afraid stage builds won’t feel as real, but through paint and set dressing, I’ve found it’s possible to build things that feel as real as a location. The main challenge is that it’s expensive to do so, but it’s the best way to go if you want to control every aspect of a set. But there is something to say about the character of shooting on location, it’s hard to fake the history that lies in walls. It’s hard to fake the lives that have lived there. I feel those things mean something to a set.

 

Chloë Sevigny in “Lean on Pete”. Photo by Scott Patrick Green – © Lean on Pete LLC

 

Chloë Sevigny and Steve Buscemi are two character actors we have come to associate with the independent American cinema and here they play important parts in Charley’s journey. How did you fit them in these particular surroundings?

I love both of them so much. Chloë and I go way back, and have worked together numerous times and have become friends. When I heard Buscemi was playing Del, I was so damn excited. He’s perfect. Both of them elevate anything they are in, and are such nice, kind people. They do an amazing job disappearing into any role they play, so we just worked on making their sets feel really real, and they just fit in from there.

 

Yes, they both immerse themselves in those characters and you, in turn, as a viewer, get lost in those characters. That’s a pretty dark, rugged world, the jockey and low-stakes horse racing world, a world one could easily lose oneself in. But Chloë’s character is pretty tough, she is capable of standing up to that world. Through her body language, through the way she walks and through her clothes she projects strength and hardwork. And she is kind to Charley, too.

Yes, I love how tough Chloë is in the film, I also love that her heart comes through in her kindness to Charley, that’s so needed in the film.

 
 

“There is something to say about the character of
shooting on location. It’s hard to fake the history
that lies in walls. It’s hard to fake the lives that have lived there.
I feel those things mean something to a set.”

 
 

Was it easy for the actors to work with the horses?

Yes, we had an amazing animal wrangling team. They worked with the actors and we also got to hang with real jockeys and their horses. That was great for all of us. For Pete’s death scene rehearsal, my brother and I built and buried a memory foam mattress in the ground so we could get the horse to lay still for long periods of time. It worked better than any of us imagined! The horse didn’t want to get up. (laughs)

 

You have also worked with Magnus Nordenhof Jønck, the cinematographer, a few times. How was your collaboration with him? I love how he used the light in the film. It is a very raw universe we get to see in the film, there is no artifice about it, and yet the way it was framed and filmed and the way the light falls throughout the film, it’s visually enticing.

I love Magnus so much. He’s to talented, kind and funny. He’s become one of my favorite friends and collaborators over the years. This was the first of three films that we’ve now done together, and I can’t wait to work with him again. What he did on Lean on Pete was incredible. I remember when we were shooting I couldn’t believe how little he needed to light. His setups were so simple and careful. When I started to see how he lit, I was so impressed. I remember looking at some of the scenes and feeling like they looked like paintings. He doesn’t overdo things or overlight, and, in doing so, things feel so natural and real. I’m forever grateful for how he shot our sets. He’s such an incredible artist.

 

Ryan, your next film is about Anthony Bourdain, starring Dominic Sessa, whom we loved so much in The Holdovers. What places will you take us to?

I’m so excited to work with Dom again. He’s such a talented actor and a good friend. Will be an honor to create him sets to work within. This film takes place in 1975 Provincetown, Massachusetts. It’s the summer Anthony Bourdain got his first job as a dishwasher in a restaurant, and found his calling. So we will be showing Cape Cod, and also New Jersey where Bourdain grew up. So excited!

 

I am looking forward to seeing the story set in the Cape Cod of those years, a place that has exerted its power over so many artists, writers and creatives in time. And New Jersey, too. And I hope that means another great conversation with you about making movies!

I hope so too, Ada! Thanks so much for your continued interest in my work. It truly means the world to me.

The feeling is mutual. Thank you, Ryan!

 

ryanwarrensmith.com

 
 

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8 March 2025

The many stories and lives of the fisherman’s classic knitwear and Catherine Deneuve in “À nous deux”

Catherine Deneuve in “À nous deux”, 1979. Les Films 13, Cinévidéo

 

Cast Out with Love is a wonderful, poetic short visual story written by Lauren Williams, and directed by Greg Dennis, revealing the beauty, history and craft hidden in a traditional hand-knitted Cornish Gansey jumper. It is part of what and who local fishermen are, it is part of a community and its identity. It’s not just a simple garment, it’s every generation woven in its tweaks.

Watching it recently rekindled my fascination with style pieces that have their own storied past, that are pieces of menswear history – that’s often the case when fashion is born of utility, and that’s usually when you can put an equal mark between fashion and style. And just like the Gansey (or Guernsey after the island by the same name) jumper, the history of the Aran sweater is just as beautiful and intricate as the rich array of stitch techniques that goes into its hand-knitting.

The garment has been worn by the fishermen of the Aran Islands (its birth place), off the western coast of Ireland, for hundreds of years. Not only has it kept generations of Irish fishermen warm trough their harsh and unforgiving winters, but it is a distinctive item, a work of local art and a reflection of the islanders’ lives and families. Each region and clan developed its own knitting pattern, carefully constructed (and guarded – rather memorised than written down, passed from generation to generation) and which can contain any combination of stitches, none of them incidental. They carried important information and had seafaring connections. The sweater was a badge of belonging to specific fishing communities and could be used to identify a specific member of a crew drowned at sea. The stich designs are inspired by Celtic art, architecture and design, and each stich conveys a unique meaning. The cable stitch is a symbol of the fisherman’s ropes and represents luck and safety at sea; the diamond depicts, some say, the small stonewalled fields of the island or, according to others, the fishing net mesh, and is a wish of success and wealth; the zig zag stitch represents the twisting cliff paths, while the tree of life is one of the original stitches of the fisherman sweater and it symbolises the importance of the clan and unity within. As for the traditional cream hue, it comes from the undyed, 100 percent virgin wool the authentic Aran sweater is made of. Every single design detail represents a story in itself.

Fair Isle, part of the northern Scottish Shetland Islands, came with its own distinctive patterning for knitwear, which is said to have come from Spain, with the seamen stranded after the breakup of the Spanish Armada in 1588. Along with these design influences, particular sheep breeds and natural dyes local to the landscape have also contributed to the distinctive look of Fair Isle knits. They continue to be produced by hand on Fair Isle today.

It’s easy to understand why this storied garment translates well in movies.

In Les Aventuriers, Alain Delon, Lino Ventura and Joanna Shimkus all master the navy nautical sweater while out at sea. They need garments that stand up to the task. The sweater, navy, classic, with a terrific texture, does that. It’s an item so much part of a sailor’s life or of someone who lives by the sea that we also get to see it on the little boy, Laetitia’s cousin, on his shore expeditions. It’s weighty and tight enough to shield the brisk air and sea water, intuiting at a harsh life by the sea, but also keeping him comfortable and free to play and dream of adventures. And maybe these youthful practicality will cast the most light on his own style when he grows up.

 

Catherine Deneuve and Jacques Dutronc in “À nous deux”, 1979. Les Films 13, Cinévidéo

 

In Claude Lelouch’s 1979 film À nous deux (Us Two), Simon (Jacques Dutronc) and Françoise (Catherine Deneuve) are both in hiding in the countryside, in Provence. He, the son of a criminal, has himself just broken out of prison. She comes from bourgeoisie but is also wanted by the police, having her own troubled past she is trying to leave behind. Together they will try to make it to the other side of the Atlantic, to Quebec and then New York. The notion of linear time is left behind in exchange of a meandering narration and it is actually the characters’ costumes that inform us on the story timeline. We know, when we see Catherine in her chunky knitted cardigan with buttons atop a turtleneck atop a crew-neck jersey and in her corduroy trousers, all in muted colours, that she is the farthest away she can be from her former bourgeois life. She is in hiding, desperately in want to escape from her past, so her clothes play the part perfectly: they are ambiguous, nothing to attract the attention. The beauty of it all is that she emanates warmth and natural beauty, sans make-up and fancy clothes. We get to see a Deneuve freed from the image and sexuality signaled through clothes and an association with fashion (she wore YSL in Buñuel’s Belle de jour and again in Truffaut’s Mississippi Mermaid), as we had the joy to see in Le sauvage, from 1975.

The other sweater Carherine wears can hardly be seen in the film. We only get a proper look at it in the photos taken on the movie set, when she is in the boat, as seen in the opening image here. It is modeled on the maritime seafaring standard and the fisherman’s treacherous vocation. Her whole look here is nautical: navy knitted sweater, navy serge trousers, white socks and navy penny loafers. The clothes are all clearly oversize, quite possibly provided by the men on the ship. Every fisherman knows that outerwear is essential, that they are at the mercy of the elements, their lives constantly at stake. Every traveler in hiding knows that waiting is an inconvenience. The call of the sea comes naturally, just as the fisherman’s occupational clothing is purely practical. Françoise’s clothes evoke real people working at maritime jobs, wearing layers of knit sweaters to keep them warm and dry. They most certainly kept Catherine comfortable, too, during the shooting in the freezing cold of Canada. “The best place to live is “a lighthouse or a fisherman’s hut,” Thoreau said almost two centuries ago. Maybe the best place for Françoise to free herself from the past and find herself is at sea.

 

Catherine Deneuve and Jacques Dutronc in “À nous deux”, 1979. Les Films 13, Cinévidéo

 
 

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Posted by classiq in Film, Film costume | | Comments Off on The many stories and lives of the fisherman’s classic knitwear and Catherine Deneuve in “À nous deux”
28 February 2025

February Newsletter: A Complete Unknown, Lean on Pete, and Headoniste

Left: “Lean on Pete” film poster | Right: © Classiq Journal

 

 
 

“The road out would be treacherous,
and I didn’t know where it would lead but I followed it
anyway. It was a strange world ahead that would unfold,
a thunderhead of a world with jagged lightning edges. Many got it
wrong and never did get it right. I went straight into it. It was
wide open. One thing for sure, not only was it not run
by God, but it wasn’t run by the devil either.”

Bob Dylan, Chronicles: Volume One

 
 

Left: “Lean on Pete” film poster | Right: © Classiq Journal

 

Viewing

A Complete Unknown, 2024
James Mangold

Timothée Chalamet’s interpretation of Bob Dylan and his songs is extraordinary, and that is what makes this film so special: it’s not an impersonation, but his own interpretation of the artist. I am not a big fan of biopics, especially the ones that take you through the lives of the main character, from childhood to fame and beyond, but this is different, and, given the fact that it’s about Bob Dylan and still manages to shine beyond that heavy baggage, it’s just proof of a great way to tell this story. What I also liked is that the film focuses on Dylan’s earliest folk music success right until the controversial moment when he started to experiment with electric guitar and rock instruments – “The folk music scene had been like a paradise that I had to leave, like Adam had to leave the garden. It was just too perfect. In a few years’ time a shit storm would be unleashed. Things would begin to burn,” Dylan write about those years in Chronicles Volume One. There is no delving into his past, he is simply thrown into the New York scene and musical scene of the 1960s and the Newport Film Festival, and that keeps this film so intense and fascinating. It truly feels like we are being immersed into those times. For years, Bob Dylan’s albums have been on repeat in our home and in the car, but ever since I watched the film, the soundtrack of this film has been playing repeatedly, too.

 

Lean on Pete, 2017
Andrew Haigh

I first heard about this film when I interviewed production designer Ryan Warren Smith about The Holdovers. He had worked on Lean on Pete, too, and he spoke so fondly about this experience that it made me very curious. We promised to do another interview together to talk about it, but until then, I have finally had the chance to watch the movie. It’s an incredibly moving film, the relationship a 15-year old boy forms with a horse after he loses what was already little left of his family. It’s not about the usual friendship between a boy and his pet, but Charlie finding in Pete what is missing from his life, someone to talk to and someone to take care of, things he is desperately in need of. He’s trying to cope with whatever comes along and you actually feel that the slow pace of the film is telling us that only the passing of time will guide him through it. And although he feels so lost, there’s a strong sense of place in the film, in the small towns and the great vastness (hence the two film posters I chose for the newsletter, and which I find extremely telling and natural in their simplicity, both images from the film), beautifully shot, and I can not wait to discuss everything about location and production design with Ryan.

 

The Player, 1992
Robert Altman

Masterly from the master. A smart, hilarious and very much of its time film about the Hollywood of the 1990s. If you were to know in advance what it takes, you’d not want to watch the movies that come out of the movie studios. Who has the courage to make a film about today’s Hollywood?

 

All the President’s Men, 1976
Alan J. Pakula

Robert Redford was promoting his politically-charged film The Candidate in 1972 when Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein, the two investigative reporters from The Washington Post, broke out the Watergate story and president Nixon resigned. But Redford didn’t want All the President’s Men, to be about Watergate or Nixon. “I wanted to focus on something I thought not many people knew about: How do journalists get the story?” This is one of the best political thrillers ever made, especially that we know the outcome in advance. And that is because what is indeed fascinating about the story is the journalistic part. “We took all the elements of their work — the typewriters, telephones, pens on paper, and kicked up the sound on all of them. Every scene where the typewriter is used, the noise is kicked into high gear so there’s a real bang. What does it sound like? It sounds like weapon.” This is a film that continues to fascinate me, after repetitive views. It’s the perfect film.

 

Left: Photo © Headoniste | Right: © Classiq Journal

 

 

Reading

After I watched the film A Complete Unknown, I wanted to read again Dylan’s Chronicles Volume One, which is largely an evocation of Dylan’s first year in New York City, 1961 (the time of Complete Unknown), with flashbacks to his boyhood in Minnesota, with the chapters in the middle concerning the making of two later albums, switching from one chapter of his life to another in a meandering narrative and yet all wonderfully hanging together. Never divulging too much, not aiming to set the record right or tell the whole story of how things happened. And in spite of that, or maybe because of that, this feels amazingly detailed, because the journey of any artist finding his voice is never simple, never free flowing, never an open book.

 

On the way: the book I’ve been waiting for for some time, Sophy Roberts’ second book A Training School for Elephants. “I’ve worked for 15 years on conservation stories in Africa. But the cliches bothered me, in the way outsider narratives were soaked in Out of Africa, Hollywood sunsets that seemed to write Africans and their oral histories out of the landscape. So when I came across an 1879 expedition to Congo with four Asian elephants — one of King Leopold II of Belgium’s first incursions into the continent — I could see a journey I could follow, which would give me a through-line not only from the Swahili coast to the Great Lakes, but into the story of Europe’s grab for a continent. By retracing the journey, I hope I could start to understand something more of colonialism’s impact.”

Sophy’s first book, The Lost Pianos of Siberia takes us the music, exile and landscape of Siberia. A land generally known for its harshness, terrifying, unimaginable exile stories and primitive life conditions, is shown another face, of poetry, humanity, survival and unique beauty, as Sophy Roberts sets out to track down a piano for a piano player friend of hers, and then to find out how music entered and was cultivated in Siberia throughout its troubled and dark past. This kind of writing and this kind of book could only be possible by the deep understating and deep bond the author, though her repeated trips there and relentless passion and honest interest, had of and formed with this outlandish part of the world and its people, the people’s people. Sophy Roberts is the most outstanding travel writer of today and her passion for a well told story makes you a better listener.

 

Listening

The soundtrack: A Complete Unknown

 

The podcast: Desert Island Discs, the decades-long, perpetually inspiring BBC show.

 

The album: The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan

 

 

Making

Amy Madigan in Streets of Fire, the most vibrant and original character, whose run-down leather baseball cap is part of her uniform of confrontation, suggesting much more than a banal tomboy, but rather a new attitude, being faithful to herself and nobody else, her clothes becoming something aspirational. Robert Shaw in Jaws – everything about the clothing of his character, the rough-edged, old sea dog Quint, suggests that the last thing on his mind is to impersonate a social creature or to belong. He is as anti-social and anti-conventional as one can be. His clothes (his signature long-billed faded cap, blue collar work shirt and fisherman’s jacket) not only signal isolation, but serve one purpose and one purpose only:to be worn. Actually, such transcending status has Quint’s cap achieved in time, that it has become inspiration for other film characters as well – when I interviewed Justine Seymour about her costumes for the tv series The Mosquito Coast, inspired of course by Paul Theroux’s book, first adapted for the big screen by Peter Weir, she told me that part of her costume creation for Allie’s character (Justin Theroux, the writer’s nephew) was finding him a cap, and that cap was a copy of Quint’s cap.

Long story short, I love to see the many lives this simple, basic accessory can have in a film. Enter Headoniste, the French brand that set out to reinvent the iconic baseball cap as an essential accessory for a diverted classic wardrobe, an authentic brand, made locally.

 

On an end note

Lately I’ve seen more and more children and teenagers rummaging through record stores, buying discs with their parents or with their pocket and saved-up money. It feels right and it makes me smile. Maybe they have watched Almost Famous. I wish every teenager would watch this Cameron Crowe film. William Miller (Patrick Fugit) is a 15 year old kid. He is smart and earnest, passionate about music and writing and aspiring to be a rock journalist. And he does get the chance to do a profile on an up-coming band for Rolling Stone magazine (after he lies about his age) and is ushered on tour with Stillwater. It’s his coming-of-age experience. His mother (Frances McDormand) is reluctant to let him go; she is a college professor with fierce values and a strong adversity to rock music (William’s sister rebelled against it and left home, leaving him her rock albums), but William promises he won’t miss his tests. He will miss the tests and won’t even get back in time to attend his graduation, but he has lived the experience that will shape his character and future, he sees not just the rock world (the drugs, the sex and the rock ‘n’ roll), but the real world, with disappointments and darkness and cruelties and hope amidst it all. He is lucky because his mom may be strict, but she is his friend, too. His sister, too. William has another friend, legendary rock critic Lester Bangs (Phillip Seymour Hoffman – his every role is a gift to us the audience) of Creem magazine. Every kid needs a friend like him, who ignores William’s age, trusts his abilities completely, and pushes him to go for it, “be honest and unmerciful”. He is lucky to be able to do what he likes, but that does not mean that it’s easy. It’s hard work to get a good story, and to get it right, especially as a teenager who is a fan of the music and is trying not to make friends with the band you have to objectively write about. But what I really want to say is that so much about this film is about the music and how music can make you feel, how in every song you can find something that feels as if it relates to you and only to you. Every teenager should watch Almost Famous and keep buying records.

 
 

“As far as I knew I didn’t belong to anybody then or now.
I had a wife and children whom I loved more than anything else
in the world. I was trying to provide for them, keep out of trouble,
but the big bugs in the press kept promoting me as the mouthpiece,
spokesman, or even conscience of a generation.

That was funny. All I’d ever done was sing songs that were
dead straight and expressed powerful new realities. I had
very little in common and knew even less about a generation
that I was supposed to be the voice of.”

Bob Dylan, Chronicles: Volume One

 
 

 

The regulars: The interviews, newsletters and podcasts I turn to every week and/or every month because they are that good. Ruthie’s Table 4 with Ruth Rogers. Fashion Neurosis, with Bella Freud. Craig Mod’s newsletters: Roden and Ridgeline. Soundtracking, with Edith Bowman. Alicia Kennedy’s newsletter. Racquet’s Rennae Stubbs tennis podcast. Gone to Timbuktu with Sophy Roberts. Wachstumsversuche, with Sarah Schill. Sirene Journal, Racquet, and Waves & Woods in print.

 

Posted by classiq in Books, Culture, Film, Newsletter | | Comments Off on February Newsletter: A Complete Unknown, Lean on Pete, and Headoniste
14 February 2025

“For Bird, it was essential that he didn’t have that dress coding at all”: In conversation with costume designer Alex Bovaird

Frank Rogowski as Bird in “Bird”, 2024. BBC Films, BFI, MUBI

 

It’s been years since I saw Fish Tank and I still think of it as special and raw, this disarming, intimate family chronicle and unsparing yet humorous and non-judgmental look at working-class Britain. American Honey, too, almost a decade after its release, I vividly recall, this road journey that captured the midland-American youth culture with electrifying energy as it follows a mag crew of kids selling magazines door-to-door. A harsh milieu, characters on the margins of society, social commentaries rooted in the power of the characters. They are realistic, yes, but the stories exhibit insight and humanism. Andrea Arnold’s cinema engages our attention in the most natural and honest way.

In her latest feature film, Bird, 12 year old Bailey lives in a town in Kent, England, with her father, Bug (Barry Keoghan), and her brother. Just like Katie Jarvis, who played Mia in Fish Tank, and Sasha Lane who played Star in American Honey, Nykya Adams is a newcomer, and she inhabits the role with the naturalness of a girl who is just being herself. Bailey has a broken home, an unreliable father, an absent mother, her world is bleak, and confused and chaotic, fueled by poverty, violence and drugs, and she’s defiant and desperate to seek adventure in her brother’s gang. And yet, there is no easy sentiment in portraying Bailey, or any other character. We see a girl struggling to reconcile everyday realities with her teenage angst and uncertainty and a yearning for being understood. It’s when she finds and embraces kindness and a streak of fantasy – when she encounters a mysterious man, Bird (Frank Rogowski) – that you root for her and our own emotions resonate most powerfully. The small gestures of friendship, of connection between Bailey and a stranger become moments of goodness and kindred-ship when she needs it most. This film, equally bitingly realistic and poetic, feels genuinely alive especially when tenderness is sneaking in, and hope seems to arise from nowhere and there is the promise of tomorrow.

Andrea Arnold believes in cinema and in what only cinema can do, and us viewers believe in her visual stories shaped by people of so many crafts that come together to make this whole happen. Costume designer Alex Bovaird (True Detective, Nope, The White Lotus) has worked with Arnold on both American Honey and Bird and I have recently had the privilege to talk to her about making movies.

In our interview, Alex shares her eye-opening experience on working on American Honey, her first collaboration with Andrea Arnold, why she and Andrea both love getting out in the world and being inspired by real people, why sometimes actors are encouraged to wear what they feel is right for them or why she chose to dress Franz Rogowski ambiguously in Bird – it’s all about holding onto the truth of the story.

 

Nykya Adams as Bailey and Barry Keoghan as Bug in “Bird”, 2024. BBC Films, BFI, MUBI

 

First of all, congratulations on your latest feature film, Bird. Can you tell me how did you come to work with director Andrea Arnold on this project?

Thank you! I had worked with Andrea Arnold on her film American Honey and it had been a seminal experience for me as a costume designer and collaborator. Andrea asked me to come to the UK and work on Bird and I was very lucky that the timing worked out.

 

How did you approach costuming the film? Did you follow the script, were there other sources apart from the script that you drew from when developing the looks? Was the director a big part of the costume process or is it more a conversation about characters and their evolution?

I make boards for the world of the story, for the mood of the piece and for each character. The boards are collages of inspirations and looks that I collect from contemporary photography, paintings, movies and a lot of real life observations. I break down the script to digest all the information contained within the writing and to know what situations the characters are in and what they will need practically. Andrea and I both love getting out in the world and being inspired by real people, so I spent a lot of time all over Kent and Essex, gathering things from markets and shops, as well as noticing and photographing the locals.

 

You mention movies as one of your inspirations. Were there any particular movies you watched as research for Bird?

I rewatched all of Andrea’s movies, some Mike Leigh, the most recent series of Top Boy. Tom Wood is a contemporary photographer that I was inspired by.

 
 

”Dressing Bird ambiguously helped us to stay puzzled
about who he is and what his role is for Bailey.”

 
 

Both Bailey and Bird have noticeably androgynous qualities and what they wear are key to that. How did you develop their respective looks?

Nykiya Adams, who plays Bailey, was a schoolgirl cast on the playground by Andrea’s team. She was much more comfortable in tracksuits and basketball shorts than in anything fitted or more typically feminine, so we leaned into that accordingly and it suited Bailey’s rough and tumble life. Bird on the page was mysterious, other worldly and strange – but was also very rooted in a sense of this place, Gravesend, so he couldn’t look too magical. We tried on the skirts in the fitting and it just seemed to click, they gave Franz a way to move that felt ethereal and we kept him in earth tones. Dressing him ambiguously helped us to stay puzzled about who he is and what his role is for Bailey.

 

Has it ever happened that an actor felt that he/she fully got into their character only when they tried on their costume? I am especially thinking of Barry Keoghan’s heavily tattooed Bug. His tattoos are more defining than any piece of clothing.

I think the tattoos speak very loudly and that was intentional – he announces his place in the world and his history is written all over him. I was involved in the research for these along with the make-up artist and Andrea, and the costume was a little bit on the backseat to the tattoos.

 

Barry Keoghan in “Bird”, 2024. BBC Films, BFI, MUBI

 

And where does one start with researching for the creation of a tattoo that is so defining for a character?

I made a board with references on, I looked at British white rappers like Slo Thai and Milkavelli and then visited tattoo shops in South East London like GB TaCoo on Bexley Road in Erith. Bug has been getting tattoos for years, so the idea is that he would have a mix of styles. I handed the research over to the make-up artist who had her own tattoo artist on hand and we hashed it out with Andrea who was the arbiter of making Bug real and not too “hip”.

 
 

“It is always a collaboration between the actor, director and I.”

 
 

Was there anything in particular you felt you needed to insist on because you felt it was important for shaping up a certain character?

I never insist on a costume if it’s in contention; it is always a collaboration between the actor, director and I – but I will put forward my reasons for the choices I made and make the case if I feel they don’t know why it’s in the fitting room. The shoes that Franz wears are Keens hiking shoes and looked slightly like bird claws and would give him nimbleness as well as being purposefully nondescript. Franz really wanted to understand why he would have chosen them and I maintained that for his character it was essential he didn’t have that dress coding at all.

 

Frank Rogowski in “Bird”, 2024. BBC Films, BFI, MUBI

 

And just as important as it is to have a nondescript piece of costume for Bird, having a loud piece of clothing for other characters has its own reasons as well: the bridesmaids’ costumes. Who came up with the idea for them?

That was written in the script – leopard print catsuits. In the end, we made a few versions and the sparkly purple leopard fabric won!

 

Were you on the set every day? How does it usually work, is it different on every project?

Yes, I am there at costume call, which is just before the actors and supporting artists are getting ready, and I stay most of the day, until nothing new is walking on camera and everything is set up and ready for the next day. Some jobs that are longer or contain big action sequences allow me to leave set more often.

 
 

It’s important for Andrea for it to be realistic,
but then to turn up the volume and shine a little.”

 
 

A costume designer’s job is to reinforce the story and help the actor form an identity of his/her character. But what exactly goes into the work of a costume designer today? How much ready-made shopping, how much vintage and how much making did the costumes in Bird involve?

On contemporary projects like this, almost all of the clothing is bought. I got it all locally in Kent and Essex and a good deal was second hand or from local outdoor markets. We did some remaking and a good deal of alterations, but it’s all gleaned from the surroundings of Gravesend – if I could pay someone for the clothes they were wearing, I would! It’s important for Andrea for it to be realistic, but then to turn up the volume and shine a little.

 

Nykya Adams in “Bird”, 2024. BBC Films, BFI, MUBI

 

This realism is one of the reasons we love Andrea Arnold’s films. Nothing is left to chance in a good movie, which reminds me about what everybody’s wearing in the fringes of films. Background players are so important for the look of a film and for its authenticity. How do you address dressing the extras?

We send out notes in advance, but we are hoping that they will look good as “themselves” and maybe spice them up if the scene calls for it, like the wedding scene or when we went to the seaside. We have racks of clothes and usually give them an outfit if they have to play in it again. Both Andrea and I love our background actors and on Bird they were called “locals”, to help them stay true to who they were.

 

All these details are paramount for the immersive experience we live when we watch a film in a cinema. Movies are designed to be seen on the larger screen for many reasons. What does the movie theater experience mean to you?

It’s the most immersive way to see a film and the best way to give it the attention it deserves. Even if I am watching a movie at home on a big screen, I am tempted to do something else at the same time! Our brains are getting used to flitting around on different things… At the cinema, you give yourself to the experience, can fully appreciate all the detail, the sound design, the score and all the other elements so carefully considered for your journey.

 

Alex, at the beginning of the interview you mentioned American Honey, your first collaboration with Andrea Arnold, and a film that captured the midland-American youth culture with electrifying energy. Since it’s been almost a decade since it was released, would you like to share one of the most memorable experiences from working on that film?

Working on American Honey was an unforgettable experience. We lived in the hotels with the cast and travelled the actual road trip route in convoy. It was a real eye opener to the deepest parts of America and its psyche. My most potent memories are of hanging out with the Mag Crew kids and watching them have the experience of being part of a film. Other than Shia LaBeouf and Riley Keough, they were all street cast and I loved shepherding them in and out of costume every night as we moved across this wild and crazy country.

 

Alex, thank you for taking us on this journey with you.

 

Sasha Lane as Star in “American Honey”, 2016. Maven Pictures, BFI

 
 

MORE STORIES

From the period authenticity of Meek’s Cutoff to the contemporary realism of Boys Don’t Cry:
In conversation with costume designer Vicki Farrell

“I’m interested in people”: Interview with photographer Laura Wilson

The Holdovers: In conversation with production designer Ryan Warren Smith

Posted by classiq in Film, Film costume, Interviews | | Comments Off on “For Bird, it was essential that he didn’t have that dress coding at all”: In conversation with costume designer Alex Bovaird
2 February 2025

“I want my work to feel human”: In conversation with designer Juan Miguel Marin

Image courtesy of Juan Miguel Marin

 

Juan Miguel Marin’s extended remit of graphic design, better known as La Moutique, includes film posters, film titles and opening sequences, album art, book covers and cultural organization branding. Simplicity is what usually lies at the heart of his work and is key to the power of image used for his film poster designs. But it is a simplicity, and sincerity, that denotes the work of someone with a refined understanding of what the film is about and what the filmmaker is trying to say. It is a simplicity that also has a certain ambiguity that challenges the viewer. It makes you think. It’s feelings, just as much as skill, that push Juan Miguel Marin’s perceptions of a film to a visible form always appropriate to both the visual and emotional loads the film carries, always true to the film’s content and to its intent: His poster design for 52”, directed by Javier Andrade, presents us the story of a natural disaster through the prism of childhood, connecting the outer world to the inner world of the story in the most emotional and expressive way. In my interview with the artist for Beneficial Shock! magazine, we talk about his formative years in Ecuador, about navigating the very thin line between art and design, and about how everything started with… music.

 

Poster design by La Moutique for “El otro Tom”, directed by Rodrigo Plá and Laura Santullo”

 

I would like to start by asking you: What is your first drawing memory, Juan Miguel?

Memory must be the most powerful faculty of us humans. It is certainly the one that I gravitate to the most when I need to express myself. But my first memory of drawing is a bit fuzzy. I do appreciate this question though, as I have spent too many days, trying to access that particular memory without much luck. Is it possible that someone told me that I wasn’t good at drawing at some point growing up, and that’s why I’ve blocked some of those early memories connected to art making? Very possible… So my final answer is: No actual memories of drawing (formally), but I do remember family vacations on the coast of Ecuador, and finding a strong connection with making marks in the sand, whether it was with an object like a stick, a coconut, or with my body.

 
 

”I find my best and most honest work happening
at the intersection of hand-made, materiality, and playful
experimentation. Embracing accidents, and discovering
unorthodox techniques is where I find a lot of joy.”

 
 

That certainly counts as a first drawing memory. What did you prefer as a child, visual or written stories?

I’ve always been more drawn to stories that included some kind of visual component. And to be totally transparent, I still have a hard time sustaining focus with reading, unless it is a subject I am emotionally invested in. I’ve missed my stop on the train many times for that reason.

 

Process shot and film poster for Javier Andrade’s documentary 52”

 

Could you define the philosophy or approach of your work?

The short answer would be that I want my work to feel human.

And if I have to elaborate on that, I would say that over the years – and because I have a very personal art practice being nurtured in tandem with the work that I produce and publish under the moniker La Moutique – I’ve learned that my most honest, and perhaps my most celebrated works, have been those projects made by working away from the computer as much as possible. In my world, that means experimenting with elements and materiality that is intrinsically connected to the stories I’m designing for, both in fiction or in documentary.

It is important for me to create long-term relationships with the directors I choose to work with, and, for that, I want to create a level of trust that goes beyond connecting once the film is finished and ready for a “poster or titles”. My ideal project starts with directors sharing versions of their scripts with me –before the film is shot– as this opens a wealth of avenues to explore. Not to mention the possibility for me to make sure that they take their time to properly photograph and capture very specific objects, textures, characters, etc… while they are on set. A lot of directors/productions miss this opportunity.

And, of course, watching the actual films is critical. I am crafting a method in which I do a first pass of the film as if I were an audience member trying to absorb the film and not thinking that I have to work on it. Then, I do a second pass where I take meticulous notes about both obvious and completely obscure aspects of the film. Perhaps my discerning sensibility is what makes my work appealing to some people.

You can read the full interview here.

 

 
 

”It is important for me to create long-term relationships
with the directors I choose to work with, and, for that,
I want to create a level of trust that goes beyond connecting
once the film is finished and ready for a “poster or titles”.

 
 

Tribeca Film Festival Identity

 
 

”I wasn’t an art kid at all. Growing up in Ecuador,
I was very much into sports. Knowing what I know now about
myself, it was the performative aspect of sports that kept me engaged.”

 
 

”My dad ran a small movie rental store. The ‘be kind and rewind’ type. So movies, movie posters and covers were very much part of my environment as a kid.” Image: Juan Miguel and his brother in their father’s movie rental shop.
Photo published with permission.

 
 

MORE STORIES

“I’m still learning, which keeps it fresh”: Interview with film still photographer JoJo Whilden

Les vacances d’Irina is all my vulnerabilities, all my beliefs and all my dreams”:
In conversation with Irina Moroșanu

“The process is the same: You build the character!”:
Interview with costume designer Deborah L. Scott

Posted by classiq in Film, Interviews | | Comments Off on “I want my work to feel human”: In conversation with designer Juan Miguel Marin