Nuevo uniforme de ron Santa Teresa

“Premium”, “elegancia”, “equilibrio”, “excelencia”, son las palabras más destacadas en el discurso de lanzamiento de la nueva imagen de Ron Santa Teresa, así como las más acordes para describir el “nuevo uniforme” de los dos productos bandera “Gran Reserva” y “Linaje”.

Una empresa con más de 200 años de trayectoria, presencia en más de 160 países y primera productora de Ron Venezolano, se embarca a iniciar el atrevido y arduo proceso de renovar su diseño hace aproximadamente 6 años, dando como resultado un total de 5 características fundamentales, que conjugan “historia, compromiso, propósito, modernidad y futuro”.

1.- Se agregó un monograma o emblema, con las iniciales ST en la etiqueta que aparece justo debajo de la tapa de la botella. Estas iniciales identifican en conjunto a la hacienda, a la fundación y al ron que se produce.

2.- La esencia del logo principal se mantiene, pero se incorporaron aires de modernismo, así como en su parte inferior se le agregó la denominada línea del tiempo: Mientras más larga sea la línea, más son los años de añejamiento.

3.- Se incluyó también una roseta renovada que significa y ejemplifica un símbolo que ha acompañado a la hacienda desde su fundación. Esta roseta rememora la Rosa de los Vientos de la familia cuando vino de Alemania, justamente después de la guerra de independencia, además de ser el logo del equipo de rugby Santa Teresa, como pilar del proyecto Alcatraz, el programa de reinserción social que busca transformar el entorno y la reinserción social a través del rugby penitenciario y que lleva en marcha la compañía desde el año 2003.

4.- La parte inferior de las botellas contarán con la fecha de fundación de la hacienda (1796) y justo debajo de las mismas se incluyó una cruz, que representa la Cruz de Aragua, en señal a los orígenes, recordando la historia bicentenaria de la empresa.

5.- También el esqueleto de las botellas fue modificado, el diseño ahora tiene los “hombros más altos, sacando el pecho, que representan la valentía y fuerza de los venezolanos”.

Para Santa Teresa “Gran Reserva” se  inclinó por el binomio de color negro y blanco. Una apuesta discreta y efectiva a la que se añade el rojo en la tipografía para lograr el contraste del logotipo.

En el caso de Santa Teresa “Linaje” se juega con dos tonos de azul noche que igualmente resultan equilibrados y sobrios. En este caso, el logotipo se aplica en un cobre metalizado que le da un brillo elegante y colonial a la vez.

Además del “nuevo uniforme” diseñado por la agencia Superunion, para los dos principales productos de Ron Santa Teresa, sale al mercado una línea de merchandising aunado al territorio principal de la marca, el rugby. Utilizando franjas horizontales que hace alusión a los uniformes del equipo, como un recurso sencillo y elegante a la vez, resaltado gracias a la paleta de colores que muestra su carácter “premium”.

“Utiliza la historia de la empresa y su aportación social a través del rugby para crear un mundo propio sin grandes estridencias y sin obviedades, pero con un equilibrio y discreción que consiguen llamar la atención.”

María Luque, Argentinean illustrator

"I like the narrative possibilities of scenes full of people".

For years, Argentinean illustrator María Luque had an artwork by the 19th Century painter Cándido López hanging above her bed. Her great great grandfather Teodosio had served alongside the artist in The Paraguayan War. When Cándido was injured very badly, Teodosio, who was a doctor, had to amputate his right hand – the one he used to paint with – to save his life.

Learning to use his left hand, Cándido was able to paint many of the sketches he‘d made of the war , artworks he became well-known for. “He painted incredible, huge scenes full of tiny soldiers preparing food on the camp or washing their clothes,” María says. “I first saw them when I was a kid and they got stuck in my mind’s eye.”

The scenes she paints herself are also inhabited by people made small by their surroundings. “I like the narrative possibilities of scenes full of people, a lot of things can happen at the same time.”

For her first graphic novel La Mano Del Pintor (The Hand of the Painter) María imagined an extended version of Cándido’s story. In the book the artist asks for her help to finish his paintings and they become friends. He tells her about his experience of war and teaches her how to paint with oils, in return she shows him how to make a fanzine and introduces him to ice cream.

María draws as if she’s a little bit possessed. “I like it to be intuitive, to feel that my hand is drawing by itself, not letting the head think about every movement.” As soon as she starts she already knows whether a drawing is going to work out. She never prepares sketches and goes straight to paper with her pencils or paints.

Fascinated with art history, María spends a lot of her time in museums hosting drawing workshops, watching people and painting other artists’ masterpieces. “I love everything about museums,” she says, “the silence, the cozy seats in the middle of the rooms, listening to guides, watching people taking pictures and of course the art pieces.”

She’s currently on an artist residency in St Petersburg, Russia where the guards of the museums are “the cutest old ladies, they all have adorable hats or scarves and they smile when you pass by,” she says. “I adore them.”

"I realized that making replicas of other artists’ paintings was an amazing way to learn how to paint".

In one of her museum-inspired projects María painted a series of small watercolors set in art museums where things were going considerably pear-shaped. She imagined a calamity at a Marina Abramović retrospective and an accident at the opening of a Basquiat show. The detailed paintings are full of hidden stories, like “a woman in shock looking at The origin of the world during a Courbet exhibition, or a museum worker falling from a ladder while trying to hang a Matisse painting.”

For each one she had to paint minuscule forgeries of the artists’ celebrated works. “It was really funny working on these paintings,” she says. “I realized that making replicas of other artists’ paintings was an amazing way to learn how to paint.”

"I love to imagine tiny moments, like Manet taking a nap on a sofa after painting Le Déjeuner sur l'Herbe".

After this she became occupied with painting famous artists enjoying some down time inside their studios. Tracey Emin lies nude on a rug, while Diego Rivera reads a book. “I love to imagine tiny moments, like Manet taking a nap on a sofa after painting Le Déjeuner sur l’Herbe or David Hockney smoking a cigarette surrounded by his pets,” she says.

The detail in María’s works is astounding: in her drawing of an overflowing newsstand, the shelves are packed tight with her recreations of magazine covers. A drawing of a rug shop is layered with sophisticated pattern-clashing.

A nomad of sorts, María doesn’t paint from a studio, instead she sets her paints down in different public spaces like coffee shops or libraries. “I started doing this when I realized that I really didn’t like spending all day in my house,” she says.

“I used to get distracted really easily. When I’m working in public spaces I’m alone but at the same time I can see other people, listen to their conversations, watch them walk by through the windows.”

Words by Alix-Rose Cowie

Source: Wetransfer