Executive Arts, Inc. (aka EAI) is an Atlanta firm whose work I’ve
been following for years—especially since they had the brilliant
idea of publishing the Seagate annual report as a set of full-page
ads in
The Wall Street Journal. They’ve been very successful, and for
good reason. The work is consistently terrific. So why change?
I could have simply asked them, but it was more fun to see what
the visual system and messaging would tell me. To make it a little
more challenging, I sent this article to the firm’s principal, Tod
Martin. He agreed to “grade” my analysis, and send his comments
to my editor. You’ll find his remarks at the end of the column.
Let’s start with the visual design, and then move on to verbal
messaging. At first glance, this is an elegant piece of high design.
Sophisticated, very confident, but, in an industry that tends to go
for big, bold, and exciting, it’s unusually warm and approachable.
What makes it so?
Consider the palette: warm, organic colors in unusual combinations,
with brown and blue at the foundation and warmed-up pastels
as the accents—a landscape palette. They’ve created a system
of natural harmony. So unboundary may mean “we don’t sort people
into silos: We bring them together.”
The soft, firm, taupe-colored paper is a lovely complement to
the palette. For contrast, they use just a little bit of white—most
notably on little stickers.
One set of stickers consists 1W-inch dots in the full range of
landscape colors with white words on them: hello, concept, strategy,
memo, proposal, estimate, etc., plus a bunch with the firm’s name.
These stickers let them use the same basic letterhead for any document.
Nice economy, that. Notice also that there are more hello
stickers than there are for any other word, which supports the idea
that unboundary brings people together.
The other set is of white, oblong labels printed with the company
name and landscape illustrations made up of little dots. It
takes a second to read them. It takes a lot longer to see what they
mean within the system. This suggests that unboundary expects
its working relationships to last long enough for people to figure
out the meanings.
The company's mission—to help clients find their core stories—is presented in colorful spreads in unboundary's service booklet.
Now let’s take a look at the letterhead. The layout is Modernist
and minimal, but the type is Old Style (with a slight twist)—it’s
simultaneously spacious and comforting. If you look very closely,
you see that four of the sheets carry faint illustrations: a ladder,
a dog, a shuttlecock, and a book. Ladders help you reach things;
dogs are loyal; shuttlecocks bounce back and forth between players;
books contain information. This goes to the idea of bringing
people together, too. Again, they’re all drawn with little dots.
So, all the visual elements are dots, or composites of dots.
There are no lines. No boundaries at all, in fact. Do the dots represent
elements of communications or brand programs? Do the illustrations show that by mixing and matching people with different talents you can develop any solution you want?
Flash cards and a brochure help us pull more meaning from the
visuals. The flash cards tell us why the company is changing its
name. “For 17 years, EAI has helped companies bring their stories
to life … .” On the reverse, there’s a dot-illustration of cherry blossoms
with an icon of a watering can above it. “For 17 years, EAI has
been working to take companies farther” is paired with an illustration
of a road sign and an icon of a chicken. When words work
more efficiently, they print the backs with text. “For 17 years … it
seems our work had been much easier to remember than our name”
is paired with a list of vowels: EAI, EIO, AEI, AEIOU, EI EI O.
It seems EAI really did come to hate their old name. But more
importantly, it also seems they came to understand that their business
was not about delivering brochures. It was about helping companies
understand what their real problems are, then helping to
solve them.
The brochure, “How will you get there?” is a little oblong book
in soft recycled paper that tells the full story. After setting up the
basic problem, it gives the key concept the firm is built around:
“We help leaders define the issues that prevent their companies
from moving forward and relate those issues to a wider perspective.”
A little further on, it says, “We remove the boundaries
between business and creativity to help clients communicate business
direction, position themselves within an industry as well as
on the world stage, build reputation excellence, navigate significant change, and align fragmented corporate cultures.” Toward
the end of the brochure it asks, “What makes Unboundary different?”
and answers, “We serve clients as original thinkers and
agents of change.”
A small aside here: In the identity papers, unboundary is always
all lowercase. In continuous text, it’s set with initial caps. I’m setting
the name lowercase in this text to point out their preference
for the more unassuming, non-proper-noun setting.
Notice also that I’ve said nothing about the design of the brochure.
It’s lively, well organized, well paced, and beautiful. The
portfolio section is truly charming—I love the fact that objects are
held up for display by people’s hands and photographed outside in
the sunshine. But the design is not what really matters.