Ryan Marx

Marx Design

Not quite good enough to be a pro skateboarder Ryan cut his teeth on band flyers, posters and album covers for mates —  some of whom became pretty big artists in Aotearoa. We chat through having to sell camping gear just to pay the mortgage through to the time a Russian client he’d never met putting a lot of money in his bank account before the job had even begun. 

Ryan is the Founder of Marx Design and has built a reputation for bold packaging, identity systems, and consumer-brand storytelling, particularly in food, beverage, and lifestyle sectors.

Q. What was family life like as a kid, and was creativity encouraged?
Ryan

Yeah. My mum ran ceramic classes as a hobby, and I’ve got two older brothers who were obsessed with drawing. My dad created a bespoke drawing room in a wardrobe for one of my brothers: a space for just drawing stuff. I was really inspired by British comics like Beano, Buster and Whizzer & Chips, and used to create a lot of comics myself even though I couldn’t really draw that well. My friend and I would make them, photocopy them, and sell them when we were about 11.

From there, I started really getting into skateboarding and skate art in a big way: Jim Phillips, who was the Santa Cruz artist, Powell Peralta [a skateboard company with a strong visual aesthetic], and all that kind of stuff. From the age of seven to 25, that’s basically all I did: skateboarding, it was my life. I tried to become good at it, competed a little bit, and realised I was good — but not quite good enough.

I kind of followed that later with an exhibition in 2007 that travelled the country called Hit the Deck (such a bad name). I contacted people like the illustrator Evan Hecox and Michael Leon, who was the art director of Patagonia, Levi’s and, more recently, Sonos; I sent them boards, and they sent them back with art on them. They just did the most unusual things with them and it was incredible — I’ve got such a great collection.

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Q. I remember I had a similar skating bent. In the Seventh Form in Nelson, kids would bring me their blank skateboards, and for $15 I would paint whatever they wanted from a page in a skate magazine. It took me about a month to do each one.
Ryan

Skateboarding was my main focus — it was like everything I did! But I actually went into a boat-building apprenticeship when I left school, as I was quite handy  at that kind of stuff (hard to believe now) and was good at woodwork, but I eventually ended up at Whitcliffe College

had a year-one introduction course that was basically just drawing people — like life drawing. At the time, all my friends were doing video filming and editing, and I saw them having so much fun while I was stuck in an apprenticeship, and realised this was my time to have fun, too. My friends encouraged me, said I was really good at drawing, and I should join the course. I became a student and had the time of my life. I was very inspired, design-wise, by Transworld [Skateboarding] magazine and David Carson — everything really revolved around skateboarding.

I then went to AUT, and, to be honest, I had to try really hard because my wiring wasn’t quite right for study. The year above me had some great designers who are still designing to this day, but in some way my class seemed not quite as good. The tutors were great, and we’ve hired students in the past from AUT who have been quite incredible and very creative. I just think it was my year really, but I was in a bit of a hurry, too. I needed to find some work really quickly when I left: I used to do commercial cleaning at night, as well as scanning court documents until two o’clock in the morning, just to pay the bills.

I ended up doing a whole lot of flyers, reading loads of books, and I used to do a whole lot of publication work for a place called Eon Design, which was a designer homeware store in Auckland that Simon James and Al Keating from Coffee Supreme came up through, too.

Then a woman from Parachute Music randomly approached me and said Hey, I’ve seen all your flyers and stuff, and would you like a job?’ I was like Hell yeah’, so I used to design all their festival stuff starting in 2002, and carried on for years building up quite a strange portfolio. 

When I decided I wanted to be in a real agency, I wrote Paul Dashwood a letter, and he said, Wow, I love your initiative. Come in and show me your portfolio.’ I had this big board of posters and weird things I’d done, and he seemed to find it really interesting and gave me a job. It was hard, really hard, we were doing identities for Sir Edmund Hillary and also had the Frucor account. Back then it was all about basically showing the client how much work you’d done. For Sir Edmund Hillary’s 50th anniversary I did about 200 logos and we used to sell it as a massive workbook.

I had been at Dashwood Design for a while when a friend, Tim Checkley, said we should start a design company. He’s a great designer, very technical; he works with Serato now. He’s the most genius kind of character with an outrageously creative brain — I’ve never really met anyone like him. So we started a company and wanted the name to be the most anti kind of design name ever, so we called it Eagle Graphics. We got a studio in Kingsland, in Auckland, and started doing just nuts and bolts stuff for friends.

I became art director for Traffick, which was a skateboard company run by Justin Watene. It was quite big back in the day, and we got to do some really wacky stuff. That led to working with Kog Transmissions [a collective of musicians, composers and producers] and Midium Records who were all based in Kingsland, too; it felt like a real grassroots community. Askew One, the graffiti artist, wanted to do a publication called Disrupt Magazine, so we designed the first two of those with him in our studio. It led to getting more exposure, and we did the Hip Hop Summit with DJ Sir-Vere, created packaging for Primo, and we did a game! We actually made heaps of money and we didn’t know what to do because we never had money, so we just bought a whole lot of plants and stuff. We’d been poor for so long and didn’t have a mortgage or kids, just living in a one-bedroom flat in Mount Albert. It felt like we were on holiday all the time just doing what we wanted, and it was actually really weirdly successful

Q. So you're having a lot of fun and it wasn't really planned — but was it sustainable, and what you thought you would be doing forever?
Ryan

We were connected with all these artists, and I remember sitting in a park in Kingsland and thinking We’re just being outrageous; we’re just designing because we think it’s cool. Where’s the substance behind it?’ And I realised I needed some help and to get a bit more serious. I got a call from a guy I had met at a previous agency who was leaving Coates Design for the UK, and he said I should check them out. Initially, I wasn’t interested, but he convinced me to pay them a visit. It was very different to previous agencies — freakishly different. It was very warm and a real family environment with Rob Coates, who was a big personality and a really good guy. I remember after being there for a month I asked for a chat with Rob, because I thought the design industry was really ruthless and I didn’t know how long I’d be there, so I wanted to check in. He thought I was asking for a pay rise, but I was just wanting to make sure everything was cool. He said Of course it’s cool’, and just told me to relax.

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Q. What was the main sort of work you’re doing there? Rob Coats has done some amazing work, and I hear his approach was very tactile?
Ryan

He really put me through the paces and did some incredible work. He did the Rodd & Gunn logo and so many great, iconic brands. We had the Bell Tea account, and he used to do everything by hand — he’d draw stuff with pencils. They had this photo of a glass of tea, and you could see the colour and the pour, and he wanted me to Photoshop it all: that was my first job. It was really intense, so I said, I’m just going to stay back tonight for a little bit and work it out.’ And I was actually there until four o’clock in the morning, and I really feel like it was a bit of a test to see if I could do it, and it all worked out.

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Q. So you’d used Photoshop and stuff before? Or was this a trial by fire?
Ryan

For sure, I was very capable at that. I’ve got weird ways of using it, but I can totally do it. I make a real effort to be very curious about technology, but I’m not as good as the new guys at all. I’m slow and I’m probably better on paper. I tend to do it all on paper so the mind and the hand can kind of connect. It helps me like a roadmap, and then I go and build it.

Q. Do you find the younger hires like that way of working? Or are they more directly focused on the computer for initial inspiration?
Ryan

No, they’re great. We get everything out on the wall, even if it’s just the initial thought, so we can call it at the front end, see what we’re trying to achieve. We tend to just interrogate and talk and think, see how we can stretch it and pull it. Heaps of Blu Tack and big Post-it notes. I’m working in the garage at the moment, and I’ve got this big wall, and I can get everything up there, so when you sit back and look at stuff. You see the bigger picture — I like that.

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Q. Was the music work still a big part of your life? How did you marry this with the commercial world of Coates?
Ryan

Callum August and Peter P‑Money’ Wadams from Kog Transmissions asked me to design the artwork for Scribe’s new album. I wasn’t interested, as I was getting really serious about design now and didn’t want to do this kind of work. They thought I was crazy as they were convinced it was going to be really big. But then they came back and said How about we put it through Coates?’ I didn’t think that would work, and they encouraged me to moonlight, and I started doing heaps at night. I would work until around six at Coates, have dinner, and work until one in the morning, and just keep doing that every night — album covers. And the work kept on coming. Warner Music got in touch and wanted me to do compilations for various artists. Then I did Tiki Taane’s album Past, Present, Future, and Scribe’s second album with a pencil and CD case — join-the-dots kind of stuff — and other acts like Betchadupa and Concord Dawn.

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Q. And it was just you solo? How did you keep the stamina and energy up with a full-time job?
Ryan

Yeah, just me — working myself blind basically. It was a lot of self-discovery, because it was so stimulating and exciting. It was never about making a lot of money, and it was more to pay the bills to a certain degree. You know you want to do certain kinds of work, but you don’t know how; you can’t quite get there. So I was figuring out the way my mind works and what creates something really great. I was obsessed with Hipgnosis — the British design firm founded by Storm Thorgerson and Aubrey Powell — and going deep on album covers.

I was doing heaps with mirrors, building models, and working out how it could work in this world. A lot of people thought I was crazy, and wondered why go to all the effort. There was this album by Frontline called Borrowed Time, and I went to the studio and got a whole lot of mirrors to demonstrate time in a visual way. Creating work like that makes you feel alive, and I wanted to do that in my spare time.

I was working with amazing photographers like Charles Howells. I’d scamp it all, sketch it, sell the idea, and get the okay, and then we would start building it.

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Q. What pushed you to make the jump to leave Coats and start up Marx?
Ryan

I loved Coats, but there was a lot of brand and packaging for places like Ernest Adams, cake-mix-type things. It was a very pragmatic design approach — you show a cake, keep it simple — and I wanted to be more creative. I had all of these exciting projects on the side with the albums, the budgets were really good, and doing more of that work made sense to me. I had a lot of demand and was just working so much: my eyes went pretty bad at one point, and I just needed to chill out. It was a good five years of doing that every night, so I needed to make a move and focus. 

When I left, Rob was really cool. I was doing  a lot of work for GSK [GlaxoSmithKline] Australasia, who was a really big client for Coates, so Rob let me go down to four days because I could work pretty fast. It was really hard to leave because they’re such great people, but I just had to do it, so I started Marx at one day a week.

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Q. What was Marx like at the start?
Ryan

Terrible. I went to The Pond, a freelance agency, and did a bit of stuff through them at the start. I’d be like the guy that goes into FCB [advertising agency] helping on a pitch and working the weekend, like 74 hours in three days kind of stuff. It was really hard financially, and I remember having to sell camping gear just to pay the mortgage — it was way harder than I had thought it would be. Then I had my first employee, Alan Hughes, and it was really helpful for me to be working with someone else — the left hand helping the right hand type thing. He was a really important part of Marx at the start. Then the Fracture Studio guys called us up as they had a lot of identity and print and stuff, and they asked us to share their studio with them on Beach Road in Parnell. They had all these projects lined up, and it was really consistent. I think it’s where we really cut our teeth with those guys. This was 2009 and it was all boys: just dirty and gross, but awesome.

We started doing packaging work for a Fijian company called Vonu Beer and worked on that for about a year consistently. They built a brewery in Fiji and eventually sold it to Coca-Cola, so we saw how you could add value to a brand through good design. We did a pop-up book around the story of the beer, and stuff like that. It led to a Samoan water brand, and we won some awards through Graphics magazine. We did an Indian alcohol spirit called Feni, in Goa, and had to study Mahena and Indian culture.

But there’s probably one key piece of work which really helped Marx, and I think it was the turning point. It was with Fracture, in 2001 or so, for Living Earth. It was really showcasing the product benefit and the narrative around it, and I had always wanted to create something like that which would really engage with a customer. The whole idea was doing a Jack and the Beanstalk type approach and bringing that story to the work. What do people want to do when they grow vegetables? They want to grow the biggest vegetables, so it’s a scale thing. We created this illustrated character, and it was all about his battles with growing the garden in a clean way, and we wrote copy around this. We were very influenced by Flight of the Conchords’ dumb humour, and it won a Gold at Best Awards and got covered on lots of blogs. And then the phone started ringing. People in Australia had seen the stuff and thought it was quite radical for the genre. (It’s not so radical now, but it was then.) The guys from StrangeLove called and asked if we could do stuff for them, and this Melbourne focus kind of happened for us. The Gold at Best Awards really helped spearhead it.

And then there is the Papua New Guinea story. This Russian dude called out of the blue, as he had seen the Vonu Beer stuff, and asked if we’d design some brands for him and asked for an estimate. It was a lot of work, probably around $400k worth over a long period of time, so we sent the estimate. He called back straight away and said Check your bank’ — and all the money was in our account before we’d started the work! And he goes You have to come to Papua New Guinea’, so I went to Port Moresby. Anyway, it was crazy in the end — kind of like mafia stuff — but we had money to hire, so it was incredible.

Marx really found its feet in 2013, and we got on some blogs like BP&O [Branding, Packaging and Opinion], and we tried to push our stuff hard to be noticed. We kind of figured out what we could do for people and approached work with a similar formula. We suddenly knew we needed to grow up a little. Janine Bickerton joined us (our general manager), bringing knowledge and business acumen: she set us up with systems, back-of-house support and general guidance. Janine has our back, and has always encouraged and empowered me. 

This turning point allowed us to bring Tristan O’Shannessy on board — he was at Milk before this, and we always wanted to work together. He’s such a good guy, with a great temperament, and a great designer. He got into design a little bit later, like an older student, and we were still feeling like we had a lot to prove, and were very excited about everything. It meant there were always two senior people on the jobs, and it was a lot of fun.

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Q. How do you deal with conflict between the two of you? Being mates and having fun — do you disagree on things?
Ryan

We know each other’s weaknesses and each other’s superpowers, and it’s a respectful relationship. The more you work together, the better you are. It’s kind of like being in a band: getting lost in the work is the best thing, and trying to find the magic together.

Q. Has the design community in Auckland been important for growth as well? And keeping connected to other studios?
Ryan

It’s been good. You have to network in a certain way, and how you do that depends on your personality. I remember sitting in Studio the Venue on K Road and getting the Best Awards book, and seeing Designworks stuff — and they were on fire. They did a honey project, beautiful typography that looked really drippy, and it just seemed like there was so much energy in their work. I found it very inspiring and it made me think How the hell am I going to do anything like this?’ I was blown away. It just made me really curious to work out how I could create something like that.

Q. How much has luck played a part in all this? Right place, right time?
Ryan

It definitely has. People, timing, the types of projects that just drop at the right moment. If it was a year later, it wouldn’t be quite right … Yeah, it’s a real moment in time type thing.

Q. Has the master plan worked out for Marx? And what are the plans going forward?
Ryan

It’s very organic. You work with some great small companies: they grow and you grow with them. You’re servicing them, and you have to get bigger as they do. We never had a master plan’, just the desire to do great design, and to continue to do that we are growing in other offshore markets 

We look after such a varied range of clients, including some pretty big companies, and it has just grown from there. It has been a lot of fun, and still is.

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Timeline

Creating comics
Skateboarding
Boat building apprenticeship
Whitecliffe
AUT
Dashwood Design
Eagle graphics
Traffick magazine
Coats design
Freelance
Marx
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