Saying goodbye to a friend

Earlier this week I heard some incredibly sad news. A young and talented designer I knew, Alex Ciccui/Arpaillange, passed away last weekend. It has emerged that he had an underlying heart condition, which I think he may even have been unaware of himself. For the last few days I've been struggling how to write about it here, partly because by putting it off, it was a way to stop it being true.

But true it is, and it seems that tragically, Alex is no longer with us. I met him at Jon Burgerman's 55DSL exhibition in Soho, way back in 2004. That seems like so long ago now, and actually I think Alex would only have been 17 or 18 at the time (I was 26 or 27), as he was doing a foundation at St. Martins. There was a busy crowd both inside and outside the Newburgh Street store, but we bumped into eachother on the street (Alex was with someone else I knew) and immediately hit it off. I remember Alex was an avid Pixelsurgeon fan and had read some of my reviews. He was a huge fan of videogames, and amongst other things, I remember talking to him about how cool Ninja Gaiden was, which we were both playing on the Xbox at the time.

After that, we seemed to bump into each other quite frequently, at various exhibitions and events, and had started to talk quite a bit on instant messenger, and occasionally on the 'phone. We liked to chat about the side projects we were working on, and Alex was always so passionate about all the things he was hoping to do himself, or hoping to do with others. For someone his age, it really was quite remarkable how focused he was, and how intensely he wanted to be part of, and to collaborate with the design community. I remember for a time he would always call me when he was particularly excited about a new idea or venture. To say his enthusiasm was infectious would be a huge understatement.

One of the projects we talked about was Wallpaper, where he was hoping to collaborate with ( I think) 100 artists and designers. Each artist would produce a square foot of artwork, and then the next artist would overlap the previous piece slightly before carrying on in a continuous stream. I remember when he had the piece featured in Computer Arts he was absolutely over the moon, and I was so happy that he was starting to take his enthusiasm into the design world more directly. There was no doubt that amazing things were ahead of him. As well as the collaborations he wanted to do, he was a very talented designer in his own right. He was always experimenting with different things, from 3D motion work, to logo and web design. Sadly Wallpaper never saw the light of day, partly because the overlapping artwork was to be created in serial, and was going to take time, but he was starting to grow in confidence, and had new things on his mind.

Alex would often ask me for advice, and I remember telling him he just needed to keep doing his thing, and it would all start to make sense for him. It was very sweet, but I also found it amusing, as when I was twenty I was obsessed with Karate, and had little notion of the design community, let alone how to launch a solo career in it. The reality was that I felt inspired when talking with him, and whilst he was seeking direction to some extent, he was helping me to get my own ideas into place too.

Of course it all seems so strange now. We talked about so many collaborations, and sadly, while we never seemed to get round to them, this was only because there was always another new idea round the corner. It seemed inevitable that we were going to do something together at some point. I don't believe in having regrets, but if ever I need a reason to seize a moment and make something happen, I'll think of Alex.

As far as I can tell, perhaps the thing he was most proud of was his clothing label, We Are Phi, a set of tee shirt designs based on the Golden Ratio, which I posted for him on Computerlove. Actually this is a really good example of how he was someone who just made opportunities happen. It's like that Samuel Goldwyn quote: "The harder I work, the luckier I get". When series 3 of Graham Linehan's The IT Crowd was being made, somehow Alex arranged to visit the set, and gave his tee shirts to the cast. Seeing his beaming face in those photos on Facebook, I remember feeling so happy for him. When he started to sell the t-shirts he would practically be updating me with every single sale that came in, and they seemed to be doing well.

I've since learned that Alex also suffered from bouts of depression. I feel sad that I didn't know him well enough to know about this other side to him. He did have a tendency to disappear for weeks and sometime months at a time, but then he would always be back with a new idea or a new game to talk about with me. It always just seemed like he was away thinking about the next big thing. Even now I find it hard to imagine him ever having been in a different frame of mind. I only knew him as a beacon of light, and that's how I shall always think of him. He came to my 30th birthday even though I don't think he knew any of my other friends at the time. He was a generous soul and would never think twice about helping you out.

I remember how jealous I was when his local Argos branch sold Halo 3 early, and he managed to get a copy. I remember how, he was so good at Guitar Hero, then when playing it at Game On, Activision offered to pay him £200 a day to demonstrate it at trade shows. I remember so many things.

Alex, you were so cool. You were relentlessly enthusiastic. You were amazing.

Five years wasn't enough, but I feel privileged to have known you, even if we were going to know each other better.

Thank you so much, and sorry you had to leave us so soon. I will never forget you.