Showing posts with label gym. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gym. Show all posts

Thursday, July 23, 2020

LIFT; DOWN.


I wrote about my 26 year relationship recently with my local gym, John’s Gym as it was then, now known as Empire Fitness, in my blog ‘Two Habits.

I’ve been going to this gym for more than half my life, and it feels like a second home. Over the years it’s had many logos, and looks, and changed names of course, but it’s been Joe’s gym rather than John’s for almost two years now, so when it was forced into closure by The C That Shall Not Be Named, it was an excellent chance to rebrand.

Owner Joe seized on the notion of several weeks (we didn’t know it would actually be months) of closed doors to reorganise the rooms, build new spaces, clear out old kit and invest in new. He's hung new lights, got little electrical jobs sorted, reconfigured the reception and catering spaces, re-thought the pathways through the various workout areas, grouped kit together in ways that make more sense, repainted, and installed all the necessary new distancing and health and safety measures.

I’d always wanted to rebrand the gym. The existing logo of a roaring lion, though I could always see its intention, never really felt like a good fit for the area’s largest and most down to earth gym, set up over 30 years ago for those serious about lifting heavy lumps of iron. Though it’s always had cardio spaces and, eventually, classes, coffee, saunas and a supplements area, it was always the gym for people who are less interested in lycra selfies and Instagram and more focussed on the grunt and face-contortion of Heavy Lifting and Doing The Work. With personal training and advice on tap, should you want it. It’s a no-nonsense, businesslike, inclusive space for all genders, shapes and sizes, housed poetically in the building of one of Hinckley's many old hosiery manufacturers. 

Set in the epicentre of the Druid Quarter, you could in fact say it's a proper fitness factory - you're there to work! - and no-one will try and sell you a subscription or a discounted T shirt with an 'inspirational' quote on it as you walk in the door (though you can get a nice free coffee after your workout).




We think (though are not 100% sure) that Puffer's Factory became the home of Empire Fitness. We think this because the iron columns and the shape and styling of the windows match exactly. The Druid Quarter, in which we live, had a great many factories like this!


So setting aside that little advert for the gym itself, when Joe asked me to create the logo I immediately felt the weight of pressure; the kind of pressure I put on myself when I’ve wanted to do a job so much I’ve freaked myself out when it actually comes to doing it. It’s the kind of specific pressure I feel when a friend or family member asks me to do something. After all, I knew this gym inside and out - was I too close to the subject to do it justice?

I originally wanted a particular, non-verbal logo  which I'd been visualising for weeks, taking the emphasis off the word ‘Empire’, which the owner wanted to keep. I've not shown it here, but try as I might I couldn’t make that route work, so had to set back and re-think.











Though I did really like this one with its prominent weight belt and sneaky kettle bell (sketch + Procreate work-up):







A lettered solution in the end was the answer. I played with calligraphic, spiky letters, a little bit on the Goth/metal side, which would work as just a simple 'E' too:




These weren't popular with anybody except me, but these ones, taking inspiration from the dumbell-wielding strongmen of old, the big top of the circus and the flex and stretch of muscles themselves, were.

Not a font or even derived from one, the letters were hand-drawn one at a time (sketch + Procreate work-up again):










Originally it was suggested with what was going to be a multi-purpose dumbell-holding hand in the centre over the top. However, a fist of triumph at finally deadlifting your own bodyweight, or defeating the grappler, or losing that final half stone, is still a fist, and with all its attendant suggestions of power, rage, protest or politics, we decided to leave it out.

Drawn in Illustrator from the original sketch, here’s the final:






The final logo is clean and robust and I’ve since painted it as large as possible on the reception wall, and is gradually being rolled out across their stationery, website and gear. It will eventually go on the outside of the gym too - but that’s for down the line!









The finished thing. I know I'm gonna be asked 2 questions: 1) is it vinyl and 2) what font did you use? :D


Previous wall and mural work includes this one for Hilton's Canopy Hotel chain in the US - during which we worked for a week in Baltimore city centre, having been flown 3000 miles at ten days' notice and just a week to design the piece, which was still being finished on the plane and in the client's office on arrival.

You can also see the largest piece we've ever done, on retail design kings' Briggs Hiller's wall - a 15m mural created in the studio but painted on a scaffold in a half-finished building with no power. Generators and bags of chips ahoy!

Seven Stories, aka The National Centre for Children's Books, in Newcastle, asked us to paint a wall piece in their café too - for which we lived in the next-door B&B and drank exquisite coffee from the roastery across the rover.

Finally, if you fancy viewing something more local, we designed and painted the brand new logo for the re-opened Bounty pub in Hinckley, as well as gilded details for the interior.

As you can see - we like to paint on walls!









Thursday, April 21, 2016

Non-illustration Leisure Time: goodbye to bricks and mortar.


 ~ The iconic yellow type of the Lei(s)ure Centre, set in Cooper Black ~

I've always gone out of my way to use my body, ever since the day post-graduation that I realised I would no longer a) be walking miles into college carrying stuff or b) riding a bike to my boyfriend's house up several hills, now that I had acquired a yellow Citroen 2CV in lieu of a debt.

That's meant a lifelong gym habit, the acquisition of yoga, a taste for running and in the last couple of years, a twice-weekly early morning swimming routine. When you sit down drawing and thinking and typing all day, if you don't get off your ass now and again it will literally be the death of you. My body might sometimes feel like it's just a thing to carry my head around, but I'll be damned if I let my job do me in.

So me and my Mum and Dad go to Hinckley's defiantly 70s Leisure Centre two mornings a week to smash out as many lengths as we can, then get changed in the no-longer-fashionable open-plan changing rooms, where everyone stands around discussing husbands, politics, jobs and telly in various stages of stark-bollockness. It's reassuring, grounding, and completely delightful.

All that's about to change as the Leisure Centre I watched being built with my Dad, as a small child in 1978, will close on Sunday and be demolished two weeks later. It was never quite right, its construction dogged by controversy - the pool was never big enough, there were alleged shortcuts taken all over the structure, and the concrete was meant to be poorly. But I always liked its awkwardness and slightly heroic feel. It's stood there serving my town for nearly 40 years, ugly, dingy and angular as it is, and this morning was my last ever swim there.

I spent some time in the building today recording details ahead of its destruction. As I walked through what used to be the café I remembered that I once went for a part time job there, in the kitchens, and being asked 'if I could cook'. When I replied 'you mean can I flip greasy burgers and lower chips into a fryer', I was most assuredly not going to be given the job.

As we sat outside in the mossy 'Al Fresco' area I also remembered locking up my bike one night and being groped out of the blue by a mystery man whose face I never did see, because he ran off before I could even shout 'oi, perv!'

And my best mate at the time, Dawn, now deceased, who laughed at the story and told me with fabulous logic 'it's OK Colehole, he probably thought you were a bloke'.

Ah the memories!

Here are some of my photographs from this morning. They show both the wear and tear that are the reasons for its replacement, and the efforts of the staff to keep the place going. The Leisure Centre is Dead! Long Live the Leisure Centre!

The strange red building has always had a beautiful front garden:




Stand here and hear the hum of the mysteriously scary pool machinery below:










The diving pool with its 'moveable floor', the idea of which used to really freak me out. 
It stopped moving a long time ago, and the diving boards were removed years ago. 






Those angles! The place is full of 'em.



SO much concrete.





All quiet.




The last post-swim breakfast, in the outside eating area. 
As far as we know, we are the only people to have sat here in all the time we've been going!


Not about to be repaired any time soon.












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