ART 1013 / 2D Digital Design / Fall 2011 Instructor: Monique Rogers
exercise 5: movie poster
Five new movies are going to be released next year. The titles of the movies are:
•
I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings
•
The Raven
•
O Captain! My Captain!
•
Where the Sidewalk Ends
•
A Poison Tree
Not surprisingly, each of these new movies is based off a famous poem. You have been hired to design a movie poster
that will promote one of these new films.
The challenge is for you to interpret and visualize the essence of the poem you choose. Now remember, the movies are
only BASED off of the poems... you get to decide how the poem could be adapted to the silver screen.
limitations
You must use Photoshop (although you can use Illustrator for parts of your poster, as long as it all ends up in Photoshop)
You must incorporate some of the poem in the poster. This could be as little as one line from the poem or as much as
the entire poem.
You must at least include the title, a tagline, 3 actors or actresses, and the opening date. You are not allowed to use
photos of actors or actresses.
You must use at least 3 original images (meaning you take the photos with a digital camera). Any additional photos can
be obtained from http://sxc.hu, a free stock photography website.
process
Choose one poem to work with. Read through it as many times as it takes to understand the meaning of the poem.
Poetry is known for having many layers of meaning... can your poem be read on a deeper level? What is the poet trying
to express by writing this? What emotions do you feel as your read the poem? What is the poem’s tone? Use these
questions to think about what the poem is communicating. Write your thoughts and ideas down in your sketchbook.
After you understand the poem, think about what kind of movie could work with it. Think about and research different
film genres (comedy, horror, adventure, drama, etc.). Choose a genre to go with the poem.
Also spend a little time researching movie poster design. This link may be of some use, but I expect you to look further
into movie poster design than just this: http://justcreativedesign.com/2008/05/13/how-to-design-a-movie-poster-withan-example/
Start brainstorming and sketching visual ideas of how the poster could depict the poem and the genre you chose.
This is where your creativity comes in to play. Don’t limit yourself, don’t think any idea is stupid, just sketch and think
and analyze your ideas until you arrive at something that you are excited about. Remember, the movie is based off the
poem, so there is room for interpretation and adaptation if you want it.
Think about how the words on the poster will be integrated into the design from the beginning of the brainstorming
process. Strive to achieve an intelligent interaction between word and image. This includes both type placement and
type style.
After you have a fully realized visual idea in your sketchbook, the next step is to photograph and obtain the images
that will be combined in Photoshop to create the poster. Once the photos are gathered, you can design the poster in
Photoshop.
You should periodically take a step back from your work (literally... walk away and view the screen from a distance) to
analyze the design as a whole. Does anything stand out to you that needs to be revised? Is the composition balanced?
Does you image communicate everything you want it to?
I also highly recommend exploring different poster layouts using the same design elements. Perhaps a certain
arrangement of text and image is visually stronger than another. You won’t know until you try!
After the poster is finished, take a minute to review the file submission guidelines before submitting to make sure
you’ve done everything you’re supposed to.
ART 1013 / 2D Digital Design / Fall 2011 Instructor: Monique Rogers
file submission
1 zipped folder titled ‘Firstname Lastname’ (example: Monique Rogers) containing:
• 1 Photoshop file
17x22” portrait, with layers, 300ppi resolution, CMYK
All text layers rasterized
Save file as firstnamelastname-art1013-f11-secX-ex5.psd (ex: moniquerogers-art1013-f11-sec3-ex5.psd)
• 1 Flattened PDF file
Flatten layers in Photoshop, then SAVE AS .pdf. DO NOT SAVE OVER ORIGINAL PSD FILE!!
Save file as firstnamelastname-art1013-f11-secX-ex5.pdf
• Folder titled ‘sketches’ containing scanned sketches
• Folder titled ‘original images’ containing all original images used in poster
• Scanned sketchbook pages saved as lastname-ex5-sketchbook-page#.jpg
grading: 50 points total
due date
Composition + Concept: 30 points
• Does the movie poster relate to the poem somehow?
• Does the style of the movie poster relate to the chosen film
genre?
• Is the text thoughtfully integrated into the poster design?
• Is there an intelligent interaction between text and image?
• Is the typography appropriate?
• Is some or all of the actual poem incorporated into the
movie poster?
• Is the movie poster a balanced and unified composition?
• Is the overall poster a strong and effective design?
Digital files uploaded to drop box on art server
-ORhanded in on flash drive
Craftsmanship: 25 points
• Is the final composition well executed?
• Are the images successfully integrated, or is it obvious they
are from different sources?
• Do the images match in terms of value, hue, and saturation?
• Is the perspective and placement of images realistic and
accurate?
• Do the light sources match? Are highlights and shadows
falling where they should?
• Are layer masks, filters, blending modes, etc., used
appropriately?
• Are selections crisp and clean and well-blended and wellintegrated into other images?
Requirements: 5 points
• Did you follow the exercise directions?
Sec 3 due Mon. Dec 5 at beginning of class
Sec 5 due Tues. Dec 6 at beginning of class
ART 1013 / 2D Digital Design / Fall 2011 Instructor: Monique Rogers
A Poison Tree
by William Blake
I know why the caged bird sings
by Maya Angelou
I was angry with my friend;
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.
A free bird leaps on the back
Of the wind and floats downstream
Till the current ends and dips his wing
In the orange suns rays
And dares to claim the sky.
And I waterd it in fears,
Night & morning with my tears:
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.
And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine.
And into my garden stole.
When the night had veiled the pole;
In the morning glad I see,
My foe outstretchd beneath the tree.
Where the Sidewalk Ends
by Shel Silverstein
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we’ll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we’ll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
But a BIRD that stalks down his narrow cage
Can seldom see through his bars of rage
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
Of things unknown but longed for still
And his tune is heard on the distant hill for
The caged bird sings of freedom.
The free bird thinks of another breeze
And the trade winds soft through
The sighing trees
And the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright
Lawn and he names the sky his own.
But a caged BIRD stands on the grave of dreams
His shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with
A fearful trill of things unknown
But longed for still and his
Tune is heard on the distant hill
For the caged bird sings of freedom.
ART 1013 / 2D Digital Design / Fall 2011 The Raven
by Edgar Allan Poe
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door Only this, and nothing more.”
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
“’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; This it is, and nothing more.”
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you”- here I opened wide the door; Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!” Merely this, and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
“Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice:
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; ‘Tis the wind and nothing more.”
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.
Instructor: Monique Rogers
ART 1013 / 2D Digital Design / Fall 2011 “Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning- little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as “Nevermore.”
But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered- not a feather then he fluttered Till I scarcely more than muttered, “other friends have flown before On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.”
Then the bird said, “Nevermore.”
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of ‘Never - nevermore’.”
But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o’er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o’er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
“Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore:
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted On this home by horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
Instructor: Monique Rogers
ART 1013 / 2D Digital Design / Fall 2011 “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
“Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend,” I shrieked, upstarting “Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!- quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamplight o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!
O Captain! My Captain!
by Walt Whitman
1
O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
2
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up-for you the flag is flung-for you the bugle trills;
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths-for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head;
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.
3
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
Instructor: Monique Rogers