Episode 2: Mark Pernice
When I spoke with Mark in January, he was setting out for upstate New York to buy a motorcycle, his most recent means of forced meditation — but we’ll get to that.
Mark Pernice is a designer, illustrator, surfer, and native New Yorker with a studio, Out of Office, located in Brooklyn, a hop skip to the waves of Rockaway Beach. His design and illustration work has been featured by the New York Times, The New Yorker, Apple, and Vans. He’s a friend of our office too. We’ve worked with Mark on a number of client-facing and passion projects, including design for Go Name Yourself by Eli Altman and Rose Linke.
I feel the need to tell you that the interview with Mark was just shy of two solid hours so please enjoy this considerably abridged version of our wandering conversation.
First of all, how and when did you start surfing?
I started later than most surfers. I feel like California surfers start really young and Hawaiians are just born surfing out of the womb. I was about 14ish when I started. I was doing the skateboarding thing and then just being by the ocean, it was a natural progression. We would go to the beach all the time on the weekends with the family and boogie board, then one of my friends got a surfboard and we were all borrowing it. Eventually, I begged my parents for one.
I still remember my first used board from the ’90s. I still occasionally try and track it down. I wish I could find it. It had this sunset spray with black and white striped rails that looked like zebra print. It was ridiculous but awesome. Very ’90s. Then there was a stint after college when I didn’t really surf that much.
I was playing music and went to art school, and it just wasn’t cool to be super tan and play in a shoegaze band. You know?
But in 2008, I picked it up again and had to start from scratch pretty much. When I was growing up people were riding these tiny tissue-paper-thin boards. I was surfing terribly for the first part of my surfing life because I just didn’t have the proper equipment. Finally I bought an 8’ mid-length, went out to Montauk, and got hooked again.
I’m interested to hear about this split between art, music, and surfing. Do you still think those things are at odds?
It’s only at odds with my time, I guess. I feel like figuratively and symbolically, it’s all connected. It’s all threaded together.
Like design feels like it comes from a different part of my brain. I need a lot of mental gas in the tank to do any sort of art or design. It requires initial concentration but then I can let myself go and get into a state — that flow state sort of thing. You still have the creative spirit but it’s more like a form of dance.
It’s one of those things where the more you talk about it, the less you should probably talk about it. It’s like forced meditation. There’s no overthinking at that moment on a wave. There’s no running through it. There’s no questioning your choices while design is a lot of that.
And I think music is in between those two things. Art and surfing are at opposite ends of the spectrum and music is in the middle. So, for me, all three of those things strike a perfect balance.
Do you feel like graphic design and art require in-the-moment revisions and editing while surfing doesn’t?
Yeah, exactly. With surfing, you’re making little calculations but don’t really think about what is actually happening at the time. It’s all on autopilot basically, which is, I guess, the beauty of it. Design is more laborious terrain. I’ll get that focus when I’m really getting in there but the first hour or so, I have to really focus and be like let me try everything.
I guess that’s maybe the purpose of it. It’s a little more like a science experiment. It’s like let’s rule everything out to get to the decision, whereas surfing there’s none of that. Just commitments, tiny little commitments that you’re always making in an instant.
Do those two worlds cross over in other ways?
I think so. I’m susceptible to what is happening and trends and influences and, of course, surfing. So I think it is going to influence my work. Not directly though. I don’t want the surfing thing to become my work’s identity. It’s fine if it stands apart, so I don’t need to put it in there in an obvious way. If it influences me, that’s fine but it’s also okay if it’s just for me. I don’t need to make it completely apparent, whereas the way I dress or something it’s obvious. If someone saw me on the street they’d be like, “Oh, that dude’s a surfer.”
Plus design is not exactly for me. Design work, especially client-based work, is for a specific end. It’s like you want a client’s personality to come out of it, not mine. Or maybe a little bit. That’s why they hire you, to get a little bit of you in there.
The illustration work can be a little more personal, where I can bring a little bit of myself in there. Last year, Jim Datz, the New York Times art director, hired me to do my first editorial illustration on surfing during the pandemic and I was like, “Amazing. I finally get to thread these interests together. My work and my passion for surfing, I can finally put them together.” So, that was a really nice thrill for me.
I was going to ask about your dream project but that seems like that might have been close to it.
I’ve been pretty lucky with what’s been coming my way. I’m just interested in being surprised right now. It’s hard to say, “Oh, I want to work with Patagonia” because that’s the culture that I identify the most with or something.
I like that you were saying those two worlds don’t have to align. I imagine a lot of people would say their dream would be to marry surfing and creativity, but maybe it might hurt you rather than help you.
Yeah. I think that there are people who are just embedded in that culture. It just sounds like a terrible business plan not to specialize in one thing for one kind of culture. I just can’t do it. For the most part, that philosophy has been working out for me and my design studio, Out of Office. I run it with Elana Schlenker and I think she’s of the same mindset. We don’t want to press too hard on personal interests but if it comes our way, then great.
I do think I would like to do some more music stuff though. We did the last Paul Simon record and that was such a thrill. I was able to put some more gas in the tank because it was such a nice experience. Then I thought, “Oh, I’d love to do some more music stuff.” Now it’s just: do we wait for more of it? Do we go after it? I don’t really know.
More gas in your tank? Were you feeling burnt out?
When you do one type of project for so long you’re going to wonder: is this it? But it’s not a personal thing. It’s completely natural. If you don’t get tired and burnt out and question what you’re doing after a number of years, then it feels like you’re an anomaly of some sort.
So how did you start?
It was a lot of years of floundering around. There’s a good portion of me just not knowing what the hell I was supposed to be doing and getting into. I was designing movie posters and stuff right out of college but I was also doing the music thing. Then I had a nightmare job situation because my boss would yell and scream all the time. Throwing tantrums. So, I was like, “I’m never getting a real job.” Then it took years of being broke. Really, the first few years I was not working a lot. I wouldn’t call it freelancing. I would call it unemployment.
What changed?
Actually, I could tell you. The pivotal moment was when I moved to Philly and I was freelancing and working part time for this web development company that somehow allowed me to work two days a week. It allowed me to do a little freelance. But the freelance wasn’t really coming in at all. I thought, “Shit. I got to find a full time job.” I was looking around, I was going to interviews. I had some time between two interviews and I came across Stefan Sagmeister’s book. At the time, he was a total rock star. Really hot shit. But I had no idea who he was because I didn’t actually come from the design world. But I saw his book.
His work was impressive but what really impressed me was that people were getting paid to do this type of work and having more artful contributions to the design world than just turning out shitty movie posters. It seemed like true art direction and I had no idea that was actually out there. It was like a light bulb went off. I didn’t even go on my second interview. I saw his email address was in the book and I emailed him and said, “I’ll come work for you for free. I’m like 30 but I don’t care.” He actually responded and said something like, “Yeah, right. There are like 200 students waiting for an internship” or whatever.
I think I sent him a life-size sticker of me after that. Then a couple months later, he sent me an email and said they had an opening and asked if I wanted to come intern. I took it and then spent some months doing that.
Anyway, long story short, that ended. He went to Bali for a year and shut down the studio. I thought, “Shit. I’m out of a job. Where do I go from here? This is the top. This is this place everyone wants to be.” From there I just freelanced at Pentagram for a summer and absolutely hated it. It was the opposite kind of environment where I wanted to be. It’s just a big place with all these young people trying to prove themselves, and you can sense the fear. Everyone was super scared of all these partners there. It was not my thing. After that, I figured, “I guess I have to try and freelance or start my own studio.” So, that’s how that came about. I just didn’t know where to go so it felt like the most natural progression for me. Basically, fear was the driver. Fear of failure is the biggest motivation.
Whoa, that’s a great story. So who are your influences?
Sometimes a good sandwich is an influence but I’ll play along. Tibor Kalman, Daniel Eatock, William Finnegan, and Alain Aspect. Actual surfers? Maybe, stylistically, Kepa Acero and Mikey February.
What’s under your feet right now? I know you’re a big fan of Ryan Lovelace and Trimcraft boards?
Dang, I ride whatever the wave is calling for. I guess my three favorites right now are a 5’7" Josh Peterson twinny with trailer, a 6’8" Lovelace FM, and a 5’10" Eye Symmetry BCN. And I just ordered a 6’4" Peterson twin for bigger days.
Last question — what’s up with the motorcycle?
Oh, yeah. I have a lot of family members and cousins who ride but I guess it’s all part of the forced meditation thing, especially during COVID times. It’s something that I always thought about and feels like another way to surf when there are no waves. Shut your brain off and just go. Freedom.
