I must admit, I’m not a ‘visuals-first’ person. I see colours and paint worlds when listening to music or reading a collection of prose. That is my space of comfort – sounds and words (in that order). It’s quite ironic because images play a significant role in my day job. I’ve spent many years in communications and creative production roles, where (visual) branding often serves as the silent storyteller.
While visuals may not be the protagonist in my personal story, I’m not denying their importance. When done well, images can shape collective narratives and change perspectives. Movie posters, album covers, book sleeves - these things aren’t just accessories or for aesthetics. The logos, colours, fonts, emojis (yes), and the way we use bold, and italics are all careful choices that help determine whether a message lands or falls flat.
There’s a long list of visual works and artists, whose messages have left a deep imprint on my memory. Here are a few recent ones:
If you’re familiar with LAGO’s collaborations, you won’t be surprised to see information designer Federica Fragapane and data artist Tiziana Alocci mentioned here. When I engage with their work I am not forced to battle between images, words, numbers or sounds. There are no lines or borders between the artforms they work with. Take Federica’s project, Shapes of Inequality which was recently opened to the public for Triennale Milano’s 24th International Exhibition. Or Tiziana’s Frequencies of Belonging, a site-specific generative installation that takes over the top of the Torre Piacentini, the tallest building in Genoa, Italy. They demonstrate how visuals can communicate without needing to fit into one box.
Last year, I met Sama Kai, a photographer who exhibited his work and shared reflections at LAGO’s Beauty of Movement event. I’ve been in awe of his photography for a long time, but to see it on 14ft tall x 8ft wide screens was special. I consider Sama an artist. The photos of his native Freetown share a personal archive of the people, the food, the fashion, the space; even though I’ve never been to Sierra Leone, the lens connects me to his home.
Recently, my feed was filled with blue. Ocean with David Attenborough was everywhere and rightly so. The visuals of the film and film-posters narrated the reality of the state of our oceans. The images created a stark realisation: the disconnect between ‘us’- the people and ‘them’ - nature, felt both sad and ridiculous. That moment of pause is what great visuals can do; they force us to reconsider what we think we know and remember what we may have forgotten.
The list goes on.
When I think about some of the most memorable visual works I’ve encountered, it almost feels silly that I’m not a ‘visuals-first’ person. After all, images have a way of speaking to us and shaping our thoughts. So, I guess this is a thank you to all of you who are ‘visuals-first’ people - for showing me how much more there is to see.