The Art Department

We’re a small, independent lab exploring the art of human-guided intelligence.

Our belief is simple: AI is not a science project — it’s a new medium.

Here we treat engineering as design, design as psychology, and psychology as communication.

Every discipline meets here: code, cognition, craft and care.

Our first work, MagneticMatch, reimagines how humans and machines learn from one another.

It’s not just a product — it’s a canvas for exploring memory, trust and meaning in the digital age.

But this ain’t my first rodeo.

I was lucky enough to work at the two most innovative newspapers of all time: The Morning Call, in Allentown, PA and The Virginian-Pilot in Norfolk, VA.

Led by the visionary Robert Lockwood, my professor of 3-dimensional design at the Philadelphia College of Art, I learned newspaper design from the ground up — before it even was a “thing” — with a bunch of talented pioneers: Jeff Lindemuth and Richard “Sheidy” Scheidler and Marian Wachter and Maureen Decker and Jerry Sealy and Linda Shankweiler and Nanette Bisher and Randy Cox & Joany Carlin and Walt Harrington and Mark Fineman and Gale Maleskey and Len Witt — whose children, Stephen and Emily, are talented and accomplished journalists in their own right. They both write for The New Yorker. THE NEW YORKER!

Then, in 1984, at the urging of AME/Photography Bob Lynn (the most beloved manager I’ve ever met) Carol Wood took a chance on a photographer who had only designed a dozen pages in his life. Then Sandy Rowe, only the second woman to lead a newsroom in America, gave me the opportunity of a lifetime: to completely redesign not one newspaper, but two.

According to Wikipedia, “At The Virginian-Pilot and The Oregonian, Rowe was known for building a newsroom of talented and ambitious reporters and editors, raising journalistic and ethical standards, for inspiring leadership and mentoring of journalists.”

My first redesign took me 18 months. At the end we had dozens of prototype pages and a 100-page stylebook, which was my weak attempt to copy the brilliant work of Rob Covey at The Seattle Times. Rob saw newspaper design in a novel way: as a system. That really resonated with me.

At the end of that 18 months, Sandy met with her 11 assistant managing editors, and asked, “What do we do with Alan?”

One person raised his hand. “I’ll take him.” That was Nelson Brown. He ran the newsroom — and Sports — at night. A Section, B Section, C Section — 3/4 of the newspaper.

I’ve worked in newsrooms, large and small, on five continents. He’s still the best newsman I’ve ever met. And that’s saying a lot because I’ve had a 15-minute, face-to-face, one-on-one interview with Ben Bradlee in the office formerly occupied by Katharine Graham at 1150 15th Street, NW.

I learned news judgment from Nelson. He judged a story by three criteria: was it compelling, relevant or interesting? And if it didn’t feel close enough for the Pilot’s readers he would say, “You can’t get there on Piedmont.”

I left the Pilot in 1992. Then Eric Seidman came along and took the Pilot’s design to the next level.

Eric and I collaborated on some of my projects for BrassTacksDesign. We argued about picas and points as if they mattered. Because to us, they did.

He showed me a level of New-York-Times sophistication and elegance that I will never match. But I’ve gotten closer than I would have any other way.

He single-handedly changed the face of Classified Advertising with his brilliant solution for the Hartford Courant. And his over-the-top rendering of The Californian was just that: over the top.

And it was at the Pilot that I met Sam Hundley — one of the two certifiable geniuses I’ve ever met.

And it was all because of Sandy Rowe, who knew how to spot talent and manage it.

One time, I pissed her off so badly that she sent a letter to my home and accused me of “hubris.” That was in 1985. I still have that letter as a reminder — to never be so disrespectful again.

Which is one of the reasons I chose the name The Art Department, because it feels humble. It’s also interdisciplinary and quietly subversive — exactly the energy of the original Skunk Works. It evokes creativity, not bureaucracy; craftsmanship, not hype.

And, it’s because that’s the way Maureen Decker answered the phone in the art department at The Morning Call in 1978. I can still hear her flat, midwestern, Buffalo accent: “Art Department.”

The Art Department: Where all the arts come together.