 Photo by Roy Gumpel |
While I give all the Oscar speeches and get to keep all the trophies in a silk-lined case, Chronogram, as one look at the masthead shows, is the product of a far-flung collaborative effort. It represents the collaborative work of approximately 50 people each month. If I could, I'd bring everyone with me on my media-hound rounds, all 50 of us, and we'd stand arm-in-arm like the cast of a Broadway musical and take one graceful bow together.
This month, I'd like to direct the spotlight to Carla Rozman.
Carla started working here in 2000 as a freelance designer, an understudy to our art director at the time, Molly Rubin. Carla took over When Molly left; her first issue as art director was February 2001. Carla was a precocious 24 at the time. Carla is now 28, and this is her last issue as art director. (As intensely creative people eventually do, Carla is leaving us to work on new projects.)
Fifty issues as art director is quite a tenure. Fifty covers chosen. A thousand photographs and illustrations assigned. Fifty 100+ page magazines designed. Fifty deadlines met. Fifty bows not taken. Take a bow, Carla. Take 50 bows—you deserve it.
Back in 2001, Luminary Publishing, Chronogram's corporate parent, was a much smaller company; in fact, for all intents and purposes, Luminary Publishing was Chronogram. There were only five employees, and we all worked in two small rooms. There was no production department, just Carla to design and lay out all the ads, as well as the editorial. There were no systems, just Carla. If it had to be designed, Carla designed it. If it had to go in the magazine, Carla put it there. Until just recently, anything we published—Healthy Living, our custom publishing books, all our promotional materials—was designed by Carla.
As we grew, we took on more staff and created a fledgling production department. There was no structure, however, and the inconsistencies and wildness of the non-system created large potholes in the workflow. The staff meeting that Carla called to establish an ad trafficking system was an unforgettable experience. Carla walked in with a folder full of notes; two hours later we had created a sane, working system. Given the feral nature of our organization at the time, I can only liken it to herding cats.
But Carla's lasting legacy is the aesthetic of the object you hold in your hands, this shapely mass of wood and ink. What Amara Projansky, co-founder and original creative force behind Chronogram, started, and Molly Rubin furthered, Carla has refined, tweaked, redesigned, emboldened, and made new. For every crazy editorial idea I threw at Carla, she created a supple design solution. Every ridiculously late article that came in over word count, Carla patiently designed.
Even I, Chronogram's closest reader, am still surprised by the startling beauty of the magazine that returns from the printer each month.
Carla, you made the magic happen. All our fine words would have fallen flat without you. Thank you for everything you've done here, and for everything you've been to me: co-creator, sounding board, smiling face, editor, singing partner, cheerleader, rock of reliability, comedian, proofreader, friend.
Don't forget to send back postcards from the wide world.
—Brian K. Mahoney