Oh hi, Kyle here. I’m one of the designers at Compose, and the guy responsible for our recent logo refresh. You can see it up there in the top left corner of your browser. Let’s call it “Compose Logo 1.5”, because it’s a cleanup of what was already there, more or less.
The biggest change, which you can quickly surmise from the comparison image above, is the typeface. We went from Archer, an interesting slab serif, to a slightly modified version of Proxima Nova, the same geometric sans you’ll find throughout our site. You’ll also notice our tetromino is a bit more detailed with refined dimensions.
Why bother?
Most people would look at our old logo and consider it fine as-is. And those people, good reader, are not designers. Just as developers enjoy refactoring code, designers enjoy refactoring design. Unfortunately, client opinions, budget constraints, or time constraints often prevent that from happening.
Not so at Compose. We get to choose our own projects. Which, to be completely honest, is the sexiest proposition you can offer someone pushing pixels for a living. And in this particular instance, I set out to improve what was already there. Several Composers had requested a new typeface to replace Archer, and I agreed that it needed some love. I got to work – Cloak and Dagger style.
Our new logo was born between active projects, and once I was satisfied, I pushed it into production on a Friday. Unbeknownst to anyone else on the team, of course. A risky move? Sure, but it worked. I followed Grace Hopper’s sage advice and it paid off in spades.
“It’s easier to ask forgiveness than it is to get permission.”
– Grace Hopper
The following Monday I got pinged on Slack for a job well done. Everyone loved it. Brandon, the other designer on our team, had me walk him through several iterations of the logo for peace of mind. The conclusion? What I’d come up with was the best option. And It felt good. We left it on the site and immediately began folding it into our social media channels and collateral.
A wild hare
So why am I telling you all this? Because something like this never happens. This is a designer’s Cinderella story. The best case scenario that’s only talked about longingly, and is rarely (if ever) experienced. Here are the acts to this drama:
You want to change something.
You do it.
You get a pat on the back.
No discovery. No client brief. No meetings to schedule more meetings. Just the pure, unadulterated joy of creation. I chased my wild hare and caught it.
Let’s talk about trust
At any other company I’d probably be reprimanded for such a cowboy move. I’d be told to revert my changes, and there would be a meeting to determine the appropriate level of discipline. At Compose? “Good jorb, Kyle!” I smile just thinking about it. And how can I get away with something like this? Trust.
“What is the point of hiring smart people, we asked, if you don’t empower them to fix what’s broken?”
– Ed Catmull, Creativity, Inc.
Every Composer is a meticulous craftsperson, and is given the freedom to improve and explore our product(s) from Day One. I trust our infrastructure team to architect the best product possible. They trust our marketing team to pluck our name from the aether and place it firmly in peoples’ vernacular. And they trust me to design and build the hell out of everything that hits my desk.
We steal liberally from Github, Pixar, and any other company that believes you should hire good people and do your best to get out of their way. Our founders recognized early on that with freedom comes loyalty, fellowship, and a product built with care.
So yeah, we have a new logo. It's marginally better than our old one. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did creating it. Here’s a cookie.
Photo Source: Kyle Foster