Storm Watch

So I never told you about the Storm show last weekend. This was a big event for me, finally getting a chance to meet a real hero of mine, an artist who has created some of the most indelible, and recognizable, images in pop culture history. When he first arrived, I was walking back from lunch near Union Square, a tooth pick in hand, and suddenly I see this figure getting out of a car right in front of the gallery. My boss was already there, along with the other owner, and I just joined the pack, figuring I'd get the introductions out of the way early. Well, Storm reached his hand out (which was also holding his cane) and said, "Nice to meet you, Rob. I've got to pee."

An hour later, I dropped in on Storm and a few of the sales staff and asked if anybody wanted coffee. (This was the time of my daily Starbucks run.) Storm, who had been a little grumpy after a long drive from Santa Barbara, quickly said, "Now you're talking, Rob!" He ordered an espresso and an almond croissant, and insisted that I find a real "cake shop" - which to another Brit would seem perfectly reasonable, but to me, was a bit eccentric.

That evening, as I was on my way home, I gave Storm a copy of my book. At first I chickened out and asked my boss to do it for me, but he said, "Give it to him yourself," and when I turned around, the whole room had gone silent. So I handed it to him, explaining - with a red face - what it was, and how, for the next book, I wanted to hire him to design the cover. Storm studied it for a few minutes, and then asked me to put it in his bag.

Friday, after another croissant run, Storm asked me to help hang the show. (Since he has some trouble walking, he would just sit in the middle of the room and tell people where he wanted things.) Quickly he went from this kind, humorous man to a tyrant, barking orders and snapping at everyone in the vicinity. He has this way about him where he asks you a question, and while trying to craft an answer that doesn't upset him, he leans into you, and then chuckles when the answer seems stupid. Most of my co-workers just laughed it off, dismissing it as the price of dealing with genius, which I did in the beginning, especially during one exchange where he asked what picture was on the wall in the next room. I told him Led Zeppelin's Presence, and then held the print up, just so he could visualize things. Storm immediately said, "Don't show me, Rob. I know what it looks like - I made it!" which, in the context of how he said it, with this dry British humor, was quite funny.

At other times, though, his constant shit-talking got to be annoying. By late that next afternoon, I was over the whole "meeting a hero" thing, and when he called me downstairs to get the status of a print job, one that I stopped everything to assist him with, I yelled back, "If you hadn't made me walk all the way down here to tell you, I would have been done with it by now!" Several of the sales staff looked at me like I was crazy, but Storm started to laugh and said, "Okay, Rob. Please hurry up."

We had several more of these little exchanges, where he seemed to be testing me, or maybe just fucking with my head (even though he treated everyone this way), and when I stood up for myself - and talked back to him, he began to like me in a strange way, or at least he respected me more for having the balls to put him in his place.

Saturday afternoon, the day of the show, I had to get out of bed - really hung-over after a crazy night partying with Serg and Todd - to finish a print job Storm had assigned to me, which basically consisted of blowing up this logo at Kinko's. Anyway, I was grumpy that I had to go into work on a Saturday, and I was frustrated that Storm had turned me into his little errand boy, so when I showed up at the gallery and discovered that someone else had already done the same thing I had just finished, I was furious. Storm said something about, he didn't know, for sure, if I was going to do it. At that point, right in front of the gallery, I was like, "Fuck Storm! If I say I'm going to do something I'm going to do it!" and he said, "Well, Rob, don't get mad. Let's see what your logo looks like." He ended up liking mine better because it was bigger than the others, and he thanked me profusely on my way out. He even yelled down the block, twice, saying "Hey Rob!" and when I turned around, "Thanks, Rob!" which was nice, because he finally made it clear that he appreciated the effort.

The show itself was a lot of fun. Over 200 people showed up, many first discovering the exhibition after seeing ads I designed in the Chronicle and the Examiner (which was exciting to see, particularly the full-page one in the Friday papers). Right before Storm left, my boss arranged for the two of us to have a photo taken (where he pointed at me in his signature way and said "This is the man right here!"), and when I shook his hand at the end, he very quietly said, "Take care of yourself, Rob" and tapped me on the shoulder. He then asked me where Rupert was (Rupert was one of the photographers from his studio) and I told him, "He's coming right now." Storm then smiled and said, "Well, tell him to get a fucking move on it!"

It's weird to meet someone who you think so highly of, and it's even more bizarre to then butt heads for a little while, but in the end I came away with a memory I will always cherish, and I see now why his images are so brilliant - every little detail has to be just right, and he's not going to stop until his vision is realized. That's something important to apply to my own work, this obsession with the little things, and ultimately, making sure everything is in its right place.