photograph by justin fox burks
Anna at home with Dido (the dog) and Lucky Boots. The painting in the background is by Anna’s great-uncle, Will Insley.
Keen-eyed readers may notice a few changes in our page design this month. It’s not your imagination: The logo on the cover really is a little bigger; the headlines use different typefaces; our feature stories open in a new, two-page format. I’ve commented before that this magazine is a living, breathing container of ideas — and in that spirit, we continue to evolve, sometimes slowly but sometimes more quickly.
Our June issue was the final one designed by Brian Groppe. After a remarkable career, Brian has retired in Chattanooga, where he’s spending more time with family, gardening, playing guitar, making art, and generally being the very cool dude he is. Brian made us look good month after month — he’s a visual magician and a wonderfully patient colleague. (Brian, sorry for all the times we tested the “patient” part. I promise never to ask you for another PDF to review.)
This July issue is the first one designed by Hudd Byard — or, well, his first one this time around. Hudd was our art director before Brian, you see; Brian says he was only keeping the seat warm for Hudd. When we began to think about who we would most want to design the magazine next, Hudd was our first and best thought. He already knows us (good/bad/ugly), he already knows our systems and processes — but he’s been doing work other than this (including teaching graphic design at the University of Mississippi) for long enough to bring a newcomer’s perspective. And indeed, he’s already made his mark. I feel more energized than ever about this magazine.
I referred to a magazine as a container of ideas. In that way, magazines and houses share some similarities. True, you don’t want your house to be made of flimsy paper and glue. Both magazines and houses, though, are constructed around what they’ll hold. Most of us don’t want to own a house just because; we want to have a stable, safe, maybe even beautiful place to shelter our families. We don’t want a magazine on our coffee table because we are just very into clumps of paper; we want to explore the worlds represented within.
Every new family who occupies a house will want to make the place feel like home, with fresh paint and finishes, and every few years they might feel compelled to rearrange the furniture. Well, I guess you could say we’re repainting the house that is Memphis Magazine. One thing won’t change, though: We’re always happy to see you at our door.
