Studio Visit: Jim Phillips Written by Andreas Trolf Monday, 12 March 2007
By Andreas Trolf
You know what’s great? People who “used to skate,” because that designation covers pretty much every American male from the ages of 18 to 40. Everyone relates. Every time I skate down the street, someone is sure to be thinking (or vocalizing to me), “oh man, I remember how much fun I had on my Rob Roskopp in, like, 1988. That sure was great. Hey, can I see your board?”
You guys know how that goes, right? Nothing important ever belongs strictly to you, it’s always shared and divided and sub-divided and its meaning gets lost in countless mall stores and Mtv shows and summer music tours. But it’s not just skateboarding—it’s the same with just about everything. No matter how personal it is, it will eventually be parceled out and imbued with a meaning you never meant for it to have. Everything truly good inevitably becomes part of a larger unconscious, and suddenly that thing (the curb you and your 12 year old friends would session for hours, your swimming hole, or maybe your first band in your pal’s garage) belongs to the world and you’re left struggling to hold on to that little spark it ignited in your chest at the very beginning. Don’t worry too much, though, because that’s just how it is. Invariably, that thing that made you you, will have made countless other people who they are as well. That’s just how it goes, so it’s best just to acknowledge it and move on and, hopefully, retain a bit of that childlike innocence and infatuation with all that the world can be and still holds in store.
So yeah, like I said, for me that thing was skateboarding. How unoriginal, right? Of course. There’s nothing new under the sun. Who was it that said that? According to the Google box it was in the Bible, in Ecclesiastes, actually. Go figure. I’m espousing biblical wisdom. Who would have thought? Holy crap, I’ve gone off on a tangent again. I don’t know how these things happen, but they do. What was my point here? Oh yeah, skateboarding. And why did I bring up skateboarding? Right. Skateboard graphics. Jim Phillips. All right, I’m getting back on track here. Not too fan out too much, but Jim Phillips is the man responsible for pretty much all of the most recognizable and iconic skateboard graphics pretty much ever. So you might be able to imagine a tiny bit how stoked I was when we got to visit Jim’s house and studio in Santa Cruz last week.
This is what we saw on the beach on our way down there. How “California” is that? Jeremy Fish and I made the drive along with Daniel and Jurgen, the German dudes who run the Skateboard Fieber museum in Stuttgart.
Here’s some historical perspective: When I first started skating in the late 80s the most awesome company was Santa Cruz, and this was due in large part to Jim sitting at the helm of the art department. Along with V. Courtland Johnson and Pushead, Jim defined the aesthetics of skateboarding of the era. Whereas Johnson drew bold, emblematic skulls and snakes, and Pushead pushed over the top gory pointillism—both of them seminal artists—it was Phillips who established a true graphic lexicon. His graphics were not only synonymous with Santa Cruz but managed to become the visual identity of the pro—something notably absent from the majority of skateboard graphics, Mark Gonzalez and Neil Blender notwithstanding. Aside from doing surf and skateboard graphics for well over 30 years, Jim has produced a ton of rock posters for a slew of amazing bands. We pulled up to Jim’s house and were greeted by old rusted out Ford trucks strewn about the property. Not in a haphazard way, but deliberately. This was our first time meeting Jim, and we couldn’t have asked for a more accommodating and gracious host. He introduced us to his wife, Dolly, and their two grandkids. Then the fanning-out began. Jim basically walked us through the history of skateboard art link, to which his entire house is more or less dedicated.
Jim Phillips studio tour...
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