Did you have any criteria for what to include in your assortment of wooden A’s?
I bought most of these A‘s at different times. But I have no favorites — they are all loved equally. Before my wife and I had kids, we would haunt the flea markets and second hand/antique shops. Many vendors sold old California Job cases as tchotchke wall-holders. They didn’t much care about the type, so near the empty cases there would always be a small basket with leftover wood letters for a buck each. The metal type they threw away or sold as scrap metal.
Where did you get your “Most Abused A”? Or should I call it your “Most Anguished A”?
A few years back, when every piece of “underdeveloped” property was coveted for its potential as a site for “luxury condominiums,” a furniture warehouse a block from the studio closed down. Mounted high on an exterior wall was a large letter A in their now-defunct name. Before the building was torn down, I went through proper channels to get the letter, talking with the demolition foreman about my request. He mumbled, “Come by Tuesday morning, when we’re scheduled to work on that area.” On Tuesday, running behind, they were working on the other side of the lot. I returned Wednesday morning and still no luck. When I returned on Wednesday evening to talk with the foreman, the wall and lettering had already been reduced to rubble by a crane and ’dozer earning overtime pay. That night, I squeezed through a break in the perimeter fencing to retrieve a few letters lying twisted and battered. I’ve given several away to friends, and others were just too mangled to keep. But this A survived and now sits on a bookshelf in my office.
What about the one that to me looks like it’s cut out of sandpaper — or multigrain toast?
This is one of my favorite A’s. It is actually covered in hundreds of glittery, sparkly bits. I bought it not too long ago at the local branch of a chain store that carries interesting vintage curios to supplement their bigger-ticket items. They had a basket of them for a few bucks each. I’m guessing they were used for a theatre marquee.
As an afterthought: Do you have any A rubber stamps?
Believe it or not, I don’t. Working with the two-dimensional kind all day probably pushed me to collecting these three-dimensional versions … less pressure on perfection of form and more of an emphasis on sculptural presence or novelty.
You can see some of Studio A’s work for publishers and museums right here. Antonio Alcalá has taught thesis projects for Graphic Design BFA students at the Corcoran College of Art + Design for more than 20 years. He has been a member of the design subcommittee of the Citizens Stamp Advisory Committee since 2010.
An absolutely authentic and alliterative aside: Alyson Kuhn first met Antonio Alcalá at a lunch in Washington, D.C. They ate at Acadiana.
