WN07: Freya Macleod on pride in Civic Spaces
Designing for Place: Freya Macleod on Island Roots and Community Storytelling
I’ve been looking forward to sharing this episode for a while now. If you’ve been following the journey of this studio, you’ll know that names and places mean a lot to me. We recently went through our own big shift, moving from LOOM to Wiselove, and a big part of that was about reconnecting with the "why" behind what I do.
In this episode of WiseNoise, I sat down with Freya Macleod. Freya is a designer whose work I’ve admired and had the pleasure of working alongside for years. She’s originally from Stornoway, and like many of us who grew up in the islands, her creative DNA is deeply intertwined with the landscape, the community, and a certain kind of "island logic."
We talked about everything from her early days hanging out at An Lanntair to her current work in Glasgow, and why she believes being a "generalist" is actually a superpower in today’s design world.
From Stornoway to the Studio
Freya and I go back to the days of my previous studio, Lume. She was an integral part of the team there, and it was fascinating to hear her reflect on how growing up in Lewis shaped her perspective. For anyone who doesn’t know, Stornoway has this incredible cultural hub called An Lanntair. For a creative kid, that place is a lifeline.
Freya described it as a "third space": somewhere between home and school where you could just be creative without the pressure of a grade or a commercial outcome. That early exposure to exhibitions, music, and local art clearly planted a seed. It wasn’t just about making things look pretty; it was about how art and design can anchor a community.
When we talk about graphic design services, we often get bogged down in the technicalities of software. But Freya’s journey reminds us that the best designers are often the best observers. Growing up in a place where everyone knows everyone else, you learn how to tell stories that resonate on a personal level.
Capturing the essence of the islands: Freya reflects on how her upbringing in Stornoway influences her design aesthetic today.
The Museum of Here: Repurposing the Past
One of the most inspiring parts of our chat was hearing about Freya’s "Museum of Here" project. During her time studying in Dundee, she took on a project involving an old rope factory. Instead of just suggesting a typical gallery or a retail space, she leaned into the idea of a community-led archive.
The "Museum of Here" wasn’t about dusty artifacts behind glass. It was about creating a space where the people of Dundee could contribute their own stories and objects, effectively curating their own history. It’s a perfect example of how visual identity design extends far beyond a logo. It’s about the environment, the atmosphere, and the "vibe" of a place.
She spoke about the tactile nature of that project: thinking about the physical materials of the factory and how to honor the industrial heritage while making it feel welcoming for the future. It’s that bridge between the old and the new that really defines her work.
The Specialist vs. Generalist Debate
We hit on a topic that I think every designer struggles with at some point: should you niche down or stay broad?
In a world that often demands you pick one lane: whether that’s strictly vector illustration or high-end web dev: Freya is a staunch advocate for the generalist approach. And I have to say, I’m with her on this one.
"I think being a generalist allows you to see the bigger picture," she mentioned during the podcast. When you’re working on a campaign design, you need to understand how the print pieces interact with the digital assets, and how the physical space informs the visual language. If you only know one thing, you’re looking at the world through a very narrow straw.
Freya’s transition from Lume to her current role at Lateral North is a testament to this. Lateral North is a studio that sits at the intersection of architecture, research, and design. They do deep dives into regional identity, and Freya’s ability to jump between 3D model making, mapping, and traditional graphic design makes her an invaluable asset to their team.
The messy, beautiful process of being a generalist: Freya’s desk is often a mix of digital sketches and physical prototypes.
The Shinty Story: Exhibition Design and Storytelling
One of the projects Freya is currently working on at Lateral North is the "Shinty Story" exhibition. For the uninitiated, Shinty is a massive part of Scottish Highland culture. It’s more than just a sport; it’s a shared history.
Designing for an exhibition like this is a masterclass in storytelling. You aren’t just creating a one-off poster; you’re building a narrative that people walk through. Freya talked about the challenge of taking a "niche" subject and making it engaging for everyone, while still respecting the deep roots it has within the local communities.
It reminded me of some of the work we’ve done here at Wiselove, like the Harrison Makes project or our involvement with HebCelt. When you’re designing for your own people, the stakes feel higher, but the rewards are much deeper.
Seeking "Analog Magic"
We spent a good chunk of time talking about the danger of getting "stuck in the screen." We’ve all been there: staring at a glowing rectangle for eight hours, moving pixels around until they lose all meaning.
Freya’s antidote to "screen fatigue" is what she calls "Analog Magic." Whether it’s screen printing, physical model making, or just sketching with a chunky charcoal stick, she finds that getting her hands dirty is essential for her creative process.
She mentioned the work of Annie Atkins, the designer famous for creating the graphic props for Wes Anderson films. Atkins’ work is a beautiful reminder of the tactile nature of design. Every telegram, passport, and pastry box in those films is a physical object that was researched and handcrafted.
There’s a soul in analog work that’s hard to replicate purely in software. Even when I’m working on a crisp vector illustration, I try to start with a pen and paper. There’s a friction there that sparks better ideas.
Analog tools in a digital world: Why stepping away from the computer is the best thing you can do for your creativity.
Recommendations and Inspiration
To wrap up the episode, I asked Freya for a few things that are fueling her creativity lately.
Film: She recommended the film "I Swear". She was struck by the cinematography and the way it captured a sense of place: something that obviously resonates with her own work.
Tactile Design: We circled back to Annie Atkins. If you haven't seen her book Fake Love Letters, Forged Telegrams, and Prison Maps, go buy it now. It’s a masterclass in how much detail can go into a single piece of "background" design.
Local Connection: She continues to be inspired by the people she meets through her community projects. There’s nothing quite like a real-world conversation to break a creative block.
Why This Matters
Talking to Freya reminded me of why I started WiseNoise in the first place. It’s easy to think of design as a solitary act: one person at one desk making one logo. But design is actually a conversation. It’s a bridge between where we come from and where we’re going.
Freya is a designer who hasn’t forgotten her roots. She’s taken the "island logic" of Stornoway and applied it to the urban landscape of Glasgow and Dundee, creating work that feels grounded, intentional, and human.
Whether you’re a fellow designer or a business owner looking for graphic design services, I hope Freya’s story inspires you to look a little closer at the "place" you’re designing for. What are the stories hiding in the floorboards? What does the community actually need?
If you want to hear the full conversation (and I highly recommend you do), you can find the episode on all the usual podcast platforms. It’s a great listen for your next commute or screen-printing session.
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Thanks for stopping by. If this chat sparked any ideas or if you’ve got your own "Analog Magic" routines, I’d love to hear them. Drop me a line and let’s keep the conversation going.
Stay creative,
Pearse
