Tag Archives: paper


yellow pages

We couldn’t find a lot of interesting books around, lately. No wonder the publishing industry is in deep ‘sheet’.  The majority of publishers seems to have developed a certain taste for crap wrapped in a glossy dustjacket. To make things worse, talented writers with something to say are disappearing, just like happened to big reptiles and alcohol-free beer. Good books, very good books, are rarer than astatine. The rest, and we are talking about 1 million titles every year, is just trees sacrificed for no reason. If, to all of the above, you add the fact there are more writers than readers, and that readers mostly read what they write, you get the whole picture. The Brandpowder Team, in a drastic attempt to instill a sense of pride in the publishing industry and to push good writers to abandon Harry Potterism and type some goddam’ good stories, would like to introduce you to the top worst books of 2013. We personally published these books at our own expenses,  as a no-profit experiment to provoke publishers, writers, readers and, why not? hopefully also analphabets, to do something about it.

Opening Picture: The Not So Yellow Pages are a guide to imprecise listing. You can browse them, let’s say, when you are not looking for something in particular and you just jerk around thinking life is about getting lost somewhere, nowhere. Fakebook (below) is a novel talking about demotivation, failure, depression, solitude, despair, staging an anxious, over-perspirating guy with smelly armpits. It sold just one copy, bought by the author.


Below: This opus in two volumes, which comes in a lavishly hardcover leather-bound edition, is a meditation about nothing to say. The 240 empty pages are a masterpiece on silence and creative white out. A must non-read for whoever feels  blocked or simply overwhelmed by data overflow. Mostly unsold.


This book (below) is highly recommended for the daring investor who’s always looking ahead for new opportunities. Unfortunately, also this one didn’t sell a single copy (out of the 50 we printed). We were shocked, since Mars is the next frontier. Not to mention KitKat and Bounty.

unreal estate

save money

The worst-best seller on our list is this rather imposing, meek-looking book with a challenging title aimed to the disobedient. We didn’t find a single customer willing to pay 20 bucks for its precious insight. The cause may be people are much better off than we think, or they are simply convinced they know better?

This project, as many others developed buy the Brandpowder Team, was a complete fiasco. Indirectly, it was a success. It proved our point. Thank you for your attention.



We wish we could have used Chris Gilmour’s cardboard typewriter to write this post. Words would have come out more softly, gently adapting to this humble medium. Chris has chosen a simple but meaningful material for his work: in first place because corrugated cardboard is usually employed to pack and ship the artist’s work, rather than physically representing the oeuvre itself (the container, in this case, becomes the content). Even more interesting is the gap between the cheap, discarded material and the height of the final output. It’s an elegant operation that goes beyond the usual theme of recycling, and underlines the role of the modern artist as a new ‘artisan virtuoso’, at ease with the industrial material as much as the icons of an industrial culture. The end result is a “fragile perfection”, a sober refelction on our own world, where the value of beauty is too often misunderstood with its price.

All of Chris Gilmour’s super-detailed works are lifesize and don’t use metal frames or wiring as a support. Every piece is just made of cardboard, and glue. That’s probably why we can’t take our eyes away from his simple masterpieces.

This article was written by Monica Turlot, senior writer, artist and critic at Brandpowder, after a couple of Dry Martini and a bowl of black olives.


Welcome to the paper version of yourself. This is a particular kind of anatomy,  made of Japanese mulberry paper and using the gilded edges of old books. They are constructed by a technique of rolling and shaping narrow strips of paper called quilling, or paper filigree. Quilling was first practiced by Renaissance nuns and monks who made artistic use of the gilded edges of worn out bibles, and later by 18th century ladies who made artistic use of lots of free time (good on them!). Lisa Nilsson finds quilling exquisitely satisfying for rendering the densely squished and lovely internal landscape of the human body in cross section. Her work opens the doors to a more relaxed inspection of our flesh and bones. It’s also a way to appreciate the skills of an artist who has literally elected an old technique for a new form of art. Lisa introduces us to the wonderful perfection of nature, its complicated creativity and silent inventiveness. On the other hand, it’s a sharp representation of our colorful fragility. We are really volatile. This post is in praise of Lisa’s unique and inspiring work.








You might call it a Poetic Movement for the Liberation of Photographs. But it’s something much more simple: cutouts from fashion magazines. The blade traces a surgical line around the body’s contour to free not the flesh (it’s paper, remember!) but the soul. The model rises from her printed destiny, ready to leave the page and do something with her life. We should do the same, actually. Trapped in the two dimensions of daily life, we often forget how beautiful it is to escape, to tear off  the tired outlines of our routine and breathe some fresh air. The Brandpowder Team is currently working at some more adventures. Sorry for not posting new stuff every day. You might think this is due to Our Accurate Selection of Contents, and we’d like to believe so, too. Truth is, we are a bunch of laid back people. Thank you for following us, anyway!

Do We Know Each Other?

I’m Not One Of Your Slaves!


Gimme Two Minutes…

Many thanks to Vogue Italy for the pictures we took the liberty to cut out. Special thanks to Alessandro Dell’Acqua and Eres, and Steven Meisel for his always outstanding work. The Brandpowder Team


What happens when you realize your life is going nowhere, while days pile up like shallow pages? What happens when you end up being trapped into their glassy, glossy surface?  While you think about an answer, we are going to tell you a story about a brave spirit who – in search of adventure – fought to come out, literally, from the immobility of a picture.

With light foot, the Fornarina Girl (we took her nickname from the brand she was advertising) has been running through the Vogue pages. On her way she came across several beautiful personalities populating the sleek world of fashion: most of them tried to dissuade her from the purpose, but to no avail. In the end our heroine finds a way out, only to realize she can’t really leave a clichè without falling into another one.

Concept and Art Direction: Carlo Muttoni / Hand Lettering: Monica Turlot / Photography: Bob Lesiem / Post Production: Brandpowder Team.

Special thanks to: Vogue Italy, Fornarina, Calzedonia, Dolce & Gabbana, Ralph Lauren, Dior, Gucci, Missoni, Catherine Denevue shot by Steven Meisel and the editorial ‘Home Chic’ by Miles Aldridge.