Get your copy at offscreenmag.com.
It’s here: Offscreen Magazine Issue No1!
I can hardly describe the feeling of finally being able to share (with the three people that read this blog) the results of what I’ve been working on in the last 4-6 months.
When I started my journey of becoming a magazine publisher/designer, I was told that it’s a massive undertaking. And hell, were they right. I think I’ve never before spent more waking hours in front of a glowing screen, and when my eyes weren’t fixated to pixels I was usually questioning worrying whether it was all worth it.
Fast forward a few months and I can not be more happy with the decision I made. Flipping through a real magazine, feeling the texture of the paper and smelling the ink provides an experience of accomplishment I hardly get from anything produced digitally. As a first issue it’s not 100% perfect and there are several things I want to improve with future issues, but for now, I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. So, allow me to introduce to you: Offscreen Magazine, Issue No1.
I might write a more extensive blog post in the coming days or weeks about the making of, but for now you should head over to the newly launched Offscreen website and order your very own copy. The number is (naturally) limited, so be quick! Make sure you follow Offscreen on Twitter or Facebook for updates, invitations to contribute and details on the upcoming issue no 2.
Oh, before you ask: no, it’s not available as an e-book. Why? Because the name says so. ;-)
What’s next for Offscreen Magazine?
You might have heard of Offscreen Magazine through my last post. We are nearing the end of our Kickstarter campaign and it looks like we won’t reach our funding goal. No biggie: we are still going ahead with our first issue!
If you like the idea of Offscreen, please have a read of our update on Kickstarter and then follow Offscreen on Twitter or Facebook for future news.
Hello Offscreen Magazine!
My hiatus over the last two months helped me take a step back and reflect on our industry.
It’s such an encouraging and exciting one to be in! Once again, my travels have led me to meet some really interesting individuals that have a lot to contribute to this maturing trade. It’s truly inspiring to know that the decisions of a few creative individuals can have a real impact on literally millions of people at the click of a button.
What seems to bother me is the personal relationship (or lack thereof) that I have with my own work. Whatever I produce on Monday, is online Tuesday, popular on Wednesday, overhauled on Thursday and by the end of the week it has completely disappeared into the vastness that is the Internet. Looking back at the past 8 years or so of my career, there are merely a handful of (still functional) remnants left of what once used to be the crown jewels of my portfolio.
As a digital designer I have a hard time producing something I can look back at and feel a sense of accomplishment. Not only because of the ephemerality of the matter, but also because we are constantly bombarded with examples of other people’s work that often seems so much better than what we just produced.
That (kinda) led me to the idea of Offscreen.
Against all odds, I’d like to venture out into the print world and produce a real, physical product. If successfully funded, it will explore the human stories that hide inside apps, websites and other digital products. It’s a tribute to the art and craft of developing interfaces.
I want to take the time for in-depth interviews and behind the scene photography. It should be something people buy and collect because it gives them a real, physical experience. Touch it, open it, smell the ink, feel the texture. It’s the kind of experience I’m currently missing from my own work.
In spite of what people say about print, there is still a place for high-quality niche magazines. Sure, it might fail (I’ll find out soon enough) and I’m sure a lot of most people would question the need for a physical magazine, especially considering the very fact that its content is all about the triumph of digital.
However, by putting these stories on real paper, they will exist beyond next week. They might be read in 5 years or 25 years, when few remember iPhone apps or this blog post. Someone might find a lost copy on a bus or stumble across it at a friend’s home office. It’s material evidence of an intangible world. If nothing else, it will give us as creators and innovators the longevity and appreciation I believe we deserve.
If you like my idea, please support Offscreen and pre-order your copy through Kickstarter.
Pointing and Calling.
While on the train from Nagoya to Takayama and also today from Kyoto to Nara I had a chance to observe Japanese train drivers at work. More entertaining than the pretty view you get from sitting in the front row of the first carriage are the gestures of the guy operating the beast.
Throughout the journey, in about 20-30 seconds frequencies, the driver made abrupt, energetic gestures, pointing forward at something on the tracks and occasionally at a print-out or the display in front of him. While I couldn’t hear him, I saw that his gestures were accompanied by what seemed like some sort of instructions or commands he gave himself.
I loved watching him. He was 100% focused. The pointing gestures had a touch of military drills. He was clearly in charge and took every second of his job seriously. Though, admittedly, it looked a little silly to a stranger like me. (See what I’m talking about?)
So, what was he doing? Some research reveals that the technique of “Pointing and Calling” is a widely used method in Japan to lower the error rate in industrial processes. The idea is to point at important signals and messages and then repeat them out loud to stay alert. According to some studies this helps reduce mistakes by up to 85%.
When I was younger, I was allowed to join a family-friend for a day at work - he is a train driver in Germany. The control panel had several large, red buttons placed at various spots in the driver’s cabin. An annoying beeping sound would go off roughly every 30 seconds that could only be silenced by pressing one of those buttons. If it wasn’t pressed within 5 seconds or so, the emergency brakes would kick in and the whole train would come to an abrupt halt.
Apparently the Japanese pointing and calling method wasn’t accepted in the West, because people felt silly talking to themselves and pointing at the obvious. So, they went for a deafening beep. Sure, the beeping prevents fatigue-related accidents more reliably, but I definitely prefer the gestures, if only for the joy of watching them. :)
(Also happening on bullet trains).
