Mega Screen Productions

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Journey into the Craft Shop

admin — Thu, 14 Oct 2010 21:32:21 +0000

I wasn’t sure what to expect when I pulled up to Mega Screen Productions, a local Victoria design shop. “He’s super friendly,” said my contact who had asked me to interview Marc Bolli, the company’s owner, “I think you’ll find him really fun, a bit out of the norm.”
The shop was deep in Victoria’s industrial area, a place where micro-breweries and welders can be found rubbing shoulders with antique restorers and high tech video technicians. It’s truly a haven for creative shops of all kinds, a Canadian version of the Middle Eastern bazaar.
And there was Mega Screen Productions, a bright purple building inset from the street.
I entered the shop and found myself completely surprised. I had the image of a regular bleak office in mind, but discovered, as I passed through the doors, a wall-sized canvas of two sunbathing women hung behind a desk full of life. A woman with blonde hair and a warm smile greeted me as she headed into the back room. I followed her and before I knew what I bumped into, I found myself deep in a handshake. A man with a huge smile and a bright orange shirt with a dog silk screened on the front stood like a sentinel before his shop door, the sounds of machines cranking and booming behind him.
“Bad timing,” said the man, “my Japanese in-laws showed up. Give me just a moment.”
I wandered back into the front room to wait for Marc. He did seem friendly and perhaps a bit out of the norm, just as my contact had said. I wanted to get back into the shop and see all the action, but for the time being I amused myself by looking through the shirts and coats that lined the walls ready for silk screening. I was surprised by the quality of these products. They were all top name brands and were of excellent design. Flipping through some of the finished products, I caught myself wondering how a freelance writer could use a bulk order of silk screened jackets.
Marc ploughed back into the room and greeted me warmly once more. We chatted for a bit. I asked him questions about his shop and services. Perhaps it was his passion for art, but I found myself getting sucked into his words. I couldn’t write fast enough and I saw that Marc was itching to show me. “Do you want to see the shop?” he finally asked.
“You bet!”
To picture what the shop floor looks like at Mega Screen Media, you have to re-imagine yourself back in your high school art room, but on an industrial level. Great machines pound away splashing paints on shirts that soar through giant ovens on treadmills. Rows of multi-coloured spools whirl on needles that pull long strings of crimson and indigo across the room. Flashes of busy workers rush by with tattooed arms and long hair, shadow boxing in the air or racing by with great tubs of ink. This is not a factory, but an artist’s den.
Marc took me to the back where the screening took place. He picked up a rubber brush, thick with bright red ink and spread it skilfully over a silk cloth. The inverse of a logo could be seen first transparent to the light, then red, and then Marc grabbed a handle and pulled the whole thing down on a shirt. When he lifted it again, the shirt was transformed, inky red and ready for the ovens.
He took me to a row of shelves where ink pots lined the walls like a Florentine craft shop. All the paints were open to the air, overflowing onto the wooden shelves. “The paints never dry,” he said with a wink, “until they’re cooked.”
I kept asking him about the process, about the design, trying to probe deeper. He finally shook his head and said, more to himself, “it’s time to meet him.”
I followed Marc to a set of stairs jutting out from the wall, an ominous black portal at the top. As he led me up the stairs, he turned and warned me, “he’s a bit quiet.” We entered a room that looked more like a large loft. It had paintings on every wall. “This is our designer,” said Marc with some noted pride in his voice, “he’s the brains behind this operation.”
I sat down with the designer and he swivelled slightly from his computer as if prepared to jump back into his world at any moment. He was older and had a beard I thought rather more from convenience than from style. He was pale and recluse, answering questions with long pauses and quiet bursts of trembling words. Soon I found his eyes shifting restlessly to his computer. I rose and thanked him for his time.
Marc and I sat in the front room, chatting about his business and what it meant to him. He’d been working for 25 years as a printer. Although he was an expert in his field, I soon realized that his real talent lay in people. He was a man who inspired those around him, who could bring an idea to life and who knew how to keep it secure. He was the anchor around which this business, this band of wild and brilliant artists, swayed. Without him hooking them into the bedrock and holding them fast against the storms of economics, his fleet of artists would drift aimlessly into the sea.
And yet, despite all this strength of character gained from the stress of responsibility, he had such a light and humorous air. He laughed and talked about his favourite beer, his dog and how he wanted to get back to the woods for his next big adventure.
I left Mega Screen Productions with a renewed sense of excitement. How could I make my own business thrive like his? How could I show such a calm and friendly leadership when under the heavy strains of taxes and recessions?
I suppose I’ll have to wait another 25 years to find out.

Blue on the Silk Road

admin — Thu, 14 Oct 2010 21:25:07 +0000

When you visit one of the great cathedrals of Europe, you may be forgiven for assuming the medieval mind was full of gloom. The cathedral often appears as a dark place with terrifying gargoyles and dangerously barbed capitals. The towering columns were to the Romantic tourist reminiscent of a forest from a nightmare. They called these cathedrals Gothic in honour of the barbarians who destroyed Rome.
But cathedrals were far from gloomy in their own day. The whole point of them was to bring a celestial light into a space so brilliant that it would awe a being into a state of grace. Architecture became increasingly light. Flying buttresses moved the weight outside so that windows could be expanded. Huge rose windows threw multi-coloured light into the massive space below.
And the walls were painted.
Much of the paint in these sometimes thousand year old cathedrals has dimmed or even disappeared. But in their time, we know artists adorned the walls and columns with the brightest paints in the world. These paints were so bright that some even called them gaudy in their own day.
By far the most impressive of all these paints was aquamarine blue. It was the brightest, purest, most lavish colour in the medieval repertoire. And it was expensive!
Aquamarine blue came from Afghanistan. It was found in a stone in the mountains that had to be ground by hand. The powder was then placed in leather sacks and wrapped around the hump of a camel. It travelled down through the valleys where Alexander marked his furthest border, down into the great Umayyad Empire where Islam was just taking hold. Then this powder moved along the ancient King’s Highway all the way to the Levant where it was shipped to Constantinople, Venice and Marseille.
By the time they reached the cathedrals of Europe, these powders had travelled the entire known world of the medieval mind. They were worth more than gold.
When the artist nervously dipped his brush into this paint, he knew that only the most important parts of the cathedral were to be touched—the robes of Mary, the cloth of Jesus. A cathedral as large as a city having taken over a hundred years to build would have one focal point, one simple place that took no longer than a day to paint.
This was the finishing touch, a brush stroke that would give the soul a glimpse of heaven.
When looking into the paint jars at Mega Screen Media, it’s interesting to see a color like aquamarine blue. It was once so important that it would form the centerpiece of a cathedral. But now it’s just one color in a sea of paints ready to be silk screened onto a cotton shirt.
Not bad.

Slide 1

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